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emjayewrites · 11 days

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Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic)(6/15)

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @mitruscity @burberryfilms @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @pharaohanubis0 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @motheroffae @hrlzy @eugene-emt-roe @perfecttrashface

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

Flashback to October 2018, Manhattan

A few days had passed since that fateful encounter at the SoHo House bar, but Rorie hadn't been able to get the devilishly handsome Brit out of her mind. His cockiness should have been an instant turn-off, and yet… there was an undeniable allure to Lewis Hamilton that she couldn't quite shake.

Perhaps that's why, despite her better judgment, she had agreed to meet him again - this time at a trendy ice cream parlor in the Village. Rorie settled into a corner booth, idly scrolling through her phone as she awaited his arrival. She had to admit, she was more than a little curious about what Lewis did for a living beyond his coy "I work with cars" admission.

The tinkling of the shop's front bell announced his entrance. Rorie glanced up to find Lewis cutting an effortlessly stylish figure in a fitted shirt and smoldering gaze that zeroed in on her instantly. A shiver of awareness danced down her spine as he approached with that trademark confident swagger.

"You're looking lovely today, Rorie," Lewis said with an easy grin as he slid into the booth across from her.

Rorie fought back an eyeroll at his obvious attempt to flatter her. "Charming as ever, I see," she drawled.

Lewis simply chuckled, undeterred. "I'm just being honest. That color really suits you."

"If you say so." Rorie shrugged one shoulder dismissively, determined not to let his flirtatious remarks get under her skin. Though she had to admit, he did cut an unfairly attractive form.

As the waitress came to take their order, Lewis made sure to give Rorie an exaggerated once-over. "I'll have whatever she's having," he purred with a wink.

Rorie's perfectly arched brows drew together in a frown. "Down, boy," she chided, though the corners of her mouth twitched with laughter she refused to let escape.

Once the waitress departed, their conversation flowed and she finally got around to asking about the mysteriousness he had around his job. For this, Lewis leaned in slightly. "You know, I actually race cars for a living. Formula One, to be exact." He said it casually, but his gaze never left hers, gauging her reaction.

To his surprise, Rorie didn't look overly impressed. "Is that so? Well, aren't you just a big deal then?"

Lewis grinned at her dry sarcasm. Most women would be fawning all over him by now, but not this one. He had to respect her unaffected air. "The biggest," he boasted with a wink.

Rorie simply rolled her eyes, though he didn't miss the subtle curl of her lips that betrayed her amusement.

Undaunted, Lewis pressed on. "You know, I've got a big race coming up in Austin this weekend. You should come as my guest - let me show you how I handle the car."

The blatant innuendo finally succeeded in cracking Rorie's aloof facade as a laugh bubbled up. "Is that what you wanna play it?"

Lewis held her laughing gaze as a slow, wicked grin curved his mouth. "Among other things. So what do you say? Care to join me?"

For a long moment, Rorie simply studied him appraisingly, then she finally opened her mouth: "I suppose I could clear my schedule..."

Lewis's grin widened with satisfaction. He would tear down those defensive walls yet.

Rorie's phone was a frenzy of buzzing notifications, the barrage of calls and texts showing no signs of letting up. Her vision blurred as she stared at the damning Sun headline again, those horrible words screaming back at her like a vicious slap.

Invasion of privacy. Defamation. Lawyers were already strategizing, determined to make the trashy tabloid pay for their unforgivable breach. But in that moment, Rorie could scarcely focus on legal retaliation.

All she wanted was to go home, to shut out the world and its cruelties. To curl up in bed with her precious son and lose herself in the sweet innocence of his tiny embraces, his babbling laugh that made everything else seem so utterly insignificant.

But Rorie knew she couldn't wallow, as tempting as it was. She was stronger than that - she had to be, for Lyric's sake. For Lewis. For their little family that some vile human had seen fit to violate in the most horrific way.

While the internet descended into a frenzy of unsolicited opinions and absurd conspiracy theories about the meaning behind their son's name, Rorie knew she couldn't afford to get mired in such distractions.

She had too much to focus on - an upcoming cover for L'Officiel Italia, fittings, and events around Paris Fashion Week, not to mention the looming legal battle against The Sun.

The shrill ringing of her phone cut through the cacophony of buzzes and chimes. Rorie's breath caught when she saw the caller ID - it was Lewis, calling from Singapore where he was preparing for that Grand Prix race weekend.

In the chaos of getting their lawyers mobilized with the assistance of Penni and Yael, they hadn't properly spoken in days, yet the second she heard that deep, familiar timbre of "Hey baby..." a wave of relief washed over Rorie.

"Hey yourself," she replied, sinking onto the hotel sofa as the tension bled from her shoulders. "God, it's so good to hear your voice."

A low chuckle filtered through the line. "Miss me already, love? Can't say I blame you."

Rorie rolled her eyes at his playful arrogance, yet couldn't quite suppress her grin. "You wish. We've just been...preoccupied is all."

"I know, I know." His tone sobered somewhat. "But you know me - I've got this handled, Rorie. We're going to make them pay for what they did."

"I have no doubt," she said softly. "If anyone can take down a media empire, it's you and your crazy squad of lawyers and fixers."

"Damn right." The cocky bravado returned. "I figure maybe a couple mill ought to shut them up, yeah?"

Rorie couldn't help but laugh at that, the first genuine sound of mirth she'd experienced in days. "You're terrible, you know that?"

"Maybe so," Lewis agreed easily. "But I also know the sound of your laugh is the best music these ears could ask for."

A warm flush crept into Rorie's cheeks at his words. "You've got a way with words, Mr. Hamilton, I'll give you that."

"Just one of my many talents, Mrs. Hamilton." His voice had dropped an octave, taking on that silky, suggestive tone he knew drove her wild.

Rorie bit her lip, feeling desire start to unfurl low in her belly. "Is that so? Do go on then..."

The heated moment was interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. Rorie sighed. "That'll be my makeup team. Raincheck on playing 'show and tell', hmm?"

Lewis chuckled richly. "You're an absolute menace, you know that? But you've got a deal, my love. I'll leave you to prepare for your princessly duties."

"Duty always calls. And Lewis?" Rorie paused, feeling a sudden upwelling of emotion. "Thank you...for everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," he stated simply. "That's a promise."

As Rorie disconnected the call, she pushed back the tears that stung her eyes and began mentally cataloging her next steps. She would get to the bottom of this disgusting leak, no matter what it took. And she would make the perpetrators pay with every last weapon in her arsenal.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, Rorie lifted her chin with grim determination. They had poked a lioness - and by god, were they going to feel her claws.

After an emotionally charged few days in New York dealing with the fallout from The Sun's despicable article, Rorie was relieved to be reunited with her son Lyric in Paris. As she prepared for her whirlwind of fashion week commitments, she savored every moment with her happy, energetic little boy.

"Mama's got to go work now, my love," Rorie murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to Lyric's downy curls as the nanny waited nearby. "But I'll be back before you know it, okay?"

"Ma Ma," Lyric whined, pudgy hands grasping at Rorie's face as if to keep her there.

She chuckled, peppering his chubby cheeks with more kisses until he was a squealing bundle of giggles. "Be good for Nina. I love you."

With one last nuzzle, Rorie tore herself away and headed for the door of her luxurious Ritz Carlton suite. Taking a fortifying breath, she signaled to her bodyguard that she was ready.

The instant she stepped outside, a barrage of flashing bulbs assaulted her. Rorie kept her chin high as she strode forward, bodyguards forming a protective phalanx around her as the paparazzi shouted question after insistent question.

"Mrs. Hamilton, is it true your son was born via surrogate?" "What about the claims he's not Lewis' child?" "Are you worried Lewis will leave you for a newer model?"

Rorie said nothing, keeping her gaze ahead and jaw clenched until they reached the waiting car. Only when the tinted windows shielded her from the frenzy did she allow herself to exhale shakily.

This was her life now, it seemed - a constant gauntlet of salacious rumors and vicious lies. But she wouldn't be cowed, not when she had truth and love on her side.

Rorie soon arrived at the posh Le Costes restaurant. She was immediately pulled into a warm embrace by her dear friend Law Roach.

"There she is, my vision!" he crowed, pecking air kisses to both her cheeks. "Are you ready for the lions' den, mama?"

Rorie laughed as more of their glamorous friend group swarmed her - Zendaya, Hailey Bieber, Lucien Laviscount, Taylor Russell and Lori Harvey. She found herself engulfed in a mass hug, lifting her spirits immeasurably.

"If anyone can handle it, it's our Rorie," Hailey said with a wink as they settled into their plush semi-circular booth.

Zendaya's doe eyes were serious. "But for real, you good? Cuz that Sun shit was foul."

Rorie waved a hand. "I'll be even better once we bury those bastards in legal fees and public humiliation." She smirked. "Did you see the latest? Apparently, I'm about to reveal Lyric's secret father."

A raucous burst of laughter went around the table, Lucien nearly choking on his wine.

"As if anyone doesn't already know that that's Lewis' twin!" Taylor gasped through her giggles.

"That's what I'm saying. I was simply a vessel for Lyric and they gonna have the balls to ask me if he's Lewis' child. Kindly, go to hell."

The group howled with renewed mirth at that. Lori clutched a stitch in her side as she laughed, "Rorie, you're absolutely foul!"

"What can I say?" Rorie smirked unrepentantly. "My husband loves me just the way I am - wicked tongue and all." She punctuated the suggestive statement with a salacious wink.

As the laughter finally subsided to sporadic chuckles, Rorie pulled up photos and videos of Lyric on her phone. Her face was alight with maternal adoration as she eagerly shared the latest glimpses into her son's life - chubby fists swinging as he "walked", joyful shrieks as he played chase with their bulldog Roscoe.

"He's getting so big," Lori cooed in awe. "And absolutely gorgeous, just like his mama."

"You know you're going to have your hands full keeping the girls away in another few years," Hailey joked.

Eventually the conversation turned to lighter topics - upcoming projects and events, the fashion buzz rippling through Paris. Rorie basked in the lively energy of her friends, her worries momentarily forgotten.

The following morning, she strode the white carpet outside the Acne Studios show. Blinding flashes from photographers' cameras sparked as she posed in the plunging tailored suit. Despite the sea of shouted questions, she kept her composure with a serene smile.

Up next was an exclusive event hosted by Lancome, one of the brands she represented as an ambassador. Rorie hurried back to her hotel suite to get ready, finding an exquisite jewelry case waiting for her.

"Something special from Mr. Hamilton, madam," the handler stated, handing it over with great ceremony.

Nestled inside was a breathtaking diamond necklace - a scattered array of brilliant white and rosy pink stones. Rorie's fingers trembled as she lifted it from its nest of silk. "This man…" she murmured, a soft smile blooming.

The Lancome x Louvre event was pure decadence - champagne flowing, candles glittering from every surface within the iconic museum's gilded halls. Rorie worked the room like the pro she was, greeting fellow ambassadors and brand reps with warm hugs and air kisses.

"This necklace is heavenly," gushed Sabrina Carpenter, admiring the delicate sparkle at Rorie's throat.

"Isn't it though?" Rorie agreed fondly. "I got it this afternoon from Lewis."

As magical as the evening was, Rorie found herself increasingly eager to get back to her precious boy, to scoop him up and drink in his sweet baby scent. She was just gathering her things when her phone pinged with a new message - from an unknown number.

The hairs prickled on the back of her neck as she read the ominous words:

I hope this lawsuit is worth it because the truth always comes out eventually. I already have someone ready to reveal the identity of your biological father.

For a beat, Rorie could only stare at the screen, icy tendrils of dread licking through her veins. Then a blaze of fury ignited within her core. How dare they try to rattle her with such empty, pathetic threats? Didn't they realize by now that she was utterly unshakable when it came to protecting her family?

With a few deft taps, Rorie fired off a text to her lead attorney, Julian Pierce:

They're getting bolder, which means it's time we go for the jugular. Take down the whole fucking company if you have to - I want The Sun left as ashes and rubble when we're through.

The reply was almost instantaneous: I'll have my team trace the number and investigate. In the meantime, we need to push forward aggressively. They awoke the lioness, and we're going to ensure they'll never make that mistake again.

Shoving her phone back into her purse, Rorie lifted her chin and strode out into the Parisian night, radiating confidence and poise. If these fools thought they could make her fear the truth, they were dreadfully mistaken.

Now they were going to taste her wrath in all its untamed, merciless glory.

The anticipation of reuniting with Lewis in Japan made Rorie's heart flutter. Despite the challenges of traveling with a rambunctious 14-month-old, she couldn't wait to be back in her husband's arms after the tumultuous events stirred by The Sun's scathing article.

The red-eye flight from Paris to Tokyo was a test of endurance. Lyric, their energetic son, seemed determined to showcase his vocal prowess to the entire cabin. Rorie did her best to soothe him, but the combination of jet lag and confinement proved too much for the little one's patience.

"Shh, little one, it's sleepy time," Rorie cooed, rocking him gently as he let out another ear-piercing shriek. She shot an apologetic look at the passengers nearby.

An elderly woman smiled kindly. "Don't fret, dear. We've all been there."

As the hours ticked by, Rorie tried every trick in the book - walking the aisles, reading stories, offering snacks. Finally, just as the first rays of dawn peeked through the windows, Lyric drifted off to sleep, his tiny rosebud mouth parted.

Rorie stroked his braids, relieved yet utterly drained. But the thought of reuniting with Lewis gave her a surge of energy.

As they disembarked at Narita Airport, Rorie felt a wave of relief wash over her. Lewis was waiting for them, his eyes lighting up the moment he spotted his family. He scooped Lyric into his arms, peppering the giggling boy with kisses, before enveloping Rorie in a tender embrace.

"I've missed you both so much," Lewis murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Rorie melted into his embrace, savoring the familiar warmth and strength of his arms. "We've missed you too," she whispered, her worries momentarily dissipating.

That evening, Lewis had arranged for an intimate dinner with his closest friends – Miles, Spinz, Timmy, and Andrew. The group had been through thick and thin together, and their bond was unbreakable. The private dining room at Kozue, one of Tokyo's most exclusive restaurants, exuded a warm, inviting ambiance. Rich wood tones and soft lighting created an intimate atmosphere as the group settled around the circular table.

Rorie felt at ease among these men who had become like brothers to Lewis. They treated her with affection and respect, welcoming her into their tight-knit circle without hesitation.

"This place is incredible," Andrew remarked, running an appreciative hand along the handcrafted furniture. "You really went all out, Lewis."

Lewis grinned. "Only the best for my crew."

Lyric immediately charmed the group, babbling happily and waving his chubby little hands.

"There's my favorite little guy!" Spinz cooed, scooping up Lyric and playfully tossing him in the air, eliciting a squeal of delight. "Look at you, growing like a weed!"

Timmy grinned, offering Lyric an origami crane he had deftly folded. "Here you go, little man."

Lyric grasped it delightedly, immediately trying to cram it into his mouth. The group chuckled affectionately.

"Uh oh, better watch out," Andrew teased. "That kid's trying to eat your handiwork, man."

As the sushi preparation began, a reverent hush fell over the room, broken only by the deft slicing of the blade against the wood cutting board. Each nigiri was a delicate, artful creation placed before them.

Between savored bites, Miles raised his sake cup. "To family - the most priceless victory of all."

They murmured in agreement, clinking their cups together as Lyric giggled merrily, blissfully unaware of the profound sentiment behind the toast.

After dinner, Lewis surprised them all with plans to visit the renowned Team Labs exhibition, an immersive digital art experience that had captivated audiences worldwide. As they wandered through the mesmerizing installations, Rorie marveled at the seamless blend of technology and creativity, her hand intertwined with Lewis's, oohing and ahhing like awestruck children.

"This is incredible," Spinz murmured.

"Babe, we need to get one of these for the house," Rorie murmured, reaching out to seemingly disrupt a swirling vortex of light.

"Anything for you, my love," he replied, pulling her close for a lingering kiss.

Andrew made a show of covering Lyric's eyes. "Keep it PG, you two!"

"Mind your business, man," Lewis murmured against Rorie's lips, causing a soft giggle to escape her. Emboldened, he kissed her more fiercely this time.

"C'mon now, before you guys traumatize my poor nephew," Miles chuckled, scooping up the giggling toddler. "You guys gonna mess around and make another one."

"That's kinda the point, Miles," Lewis clarified with a sly grin, wrapping a protective arm around his wife.

The group's jaws dropped in unison, eyes widening comically.

"Oh, so it's like that then?" Miles sputtered. "Baby LH-squared, huh?"

Lewis's grin stretched wider as he gazed at Rorie adoringly. "Trying to be," he confirmed with a wink. "But people doing wack shit are trying to fuck up our plans."

Rorie squeezed his hand reassuringly. "That's why we're suing, Pookie. And burning them to the ground."

"Damn straight," Lewis agreed, a newfound fierceness flashing in his eyes. "No one messes with our family."

An awed hush fell over the group, their usual jovial banter momentarily stunned into silence by the steely determination radiating from the couple.

Finally, Spinz let out a low whistle. "Well, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that lawsuit..."

The tension broke as they all dissolved into laughter once more, rallying around Lewis and Rorie's unshakable united front. The detractors didn't stand a chance against their bond.

As they settled back into their hotel room, Lyric was already fast asleep. Lewis gently lifted the drowsy toddler from Rorie's arms and placed him in the plush crib, tucking him in securely.

Turning back to his wife, Lewis pulled Rorie close, his eyes shining with fierce determination. "Tomorrow, I race for you and our family," he vowed, his voice thick with conviction.

Rorie smiled up at him, her heart swelling with pride and love for this man who was her partner, her soul mate, her everything. She traced the contours of his chiseled jawline tenderly. "And we'll be right there cheering you on, baby. Like always."

Lewis covered her hand with his, turning to press his lips to her palm in a gesture of devotion. "With you two in my corner, I'm unstoppable."

No words were needed as their lips met in a searing kiss, a promise to face whatever storm awaited shoulder-to-shoulder. The vile tabloid articles, the hurtful rumors - none of it could touch the sanctity of their family united.

The dim lighting of the seedy bar cast furtive shadows across their corner table, providing a veil of secrecy for their clandestine meeting. A world away from the bright lights of Japan, this dingy New York establishment was the perfect den of deception.

"This is all I could get my hands on," the hooded woman whispered, sliding a manila envelope across the table. "I'm lucky Rorie hasn't suspected me yet."

Alexander pursed his lips, rifling through the documents with a measured gaze. "And you're sure this information is legitimate?"

She nodded curtly. "I may have been cut off, but I still have my sources."

Arching a brow, Alexander fixed her with an appraising look. "I have to ask...why are you doing this? Surely your friendship with Rorie meant something once."

The woman's laugh was brittle, laced with bitterness. "That's just it - it meant everything to me. Until she threw me away like yesterday's garbage." Her eyes hardened to flints of obsidian. "I can't let her get away with that."

Alexander said nothing, simply pocketing the envelope with a calculating nod. Betrayal came in many shades, but few burned quite as bright as the scorching flame of a fallen friendship.

TO BE CONTINUED........

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#emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black oc #f1 x black!reader #f1 x oc #private landing

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asdfghjklmals · 11 months

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MILESTONES✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 6.0k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, dadtobe!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple. a lil' jealous!oc.

SYNOPSIS: a compilation of short stories about the stages of pregnancy with oc gojo girlfriend and satoru. AUTHOR'S NOTE: please make sure to read 'accidents' before milestones. i couldn't have you guys miss out on oc gojo girlfriend and satoru's pregnancy journey. it was so fun to write this. a lot of research went into the baby gojo chronicles, i honestly think my fbi agent thinks i'm pregnant. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

8 weeks: the first pre-natal appointment

it has been two weeks since you and satoru decided that you were going to keep the baby. this week was your first pre-natal appointment to "meet" baby gojo. you couldn't tell who was more nervous, you or satoru.

during your appointment, satoru sat in the exam room as the nurse drew your blood to perform tests and to confirm the pregnancy. the nurse also performed a pap smear, which freaked satoru out after he saw what a speculum looked like. he said it looked like a 'torture chamber tool' and you wholeheartedly agreed with him.

you exchanged soft smiles with satoru multiple times throughout your appointment. satoru was engrossed with the entire process. his curiousness was adorable in your eyes as he asked your nurse questions about all the procedures and tests she was performing. about an hour later after receiving the results of your blood tests, your doctor entered the room.

“well, first things first, congratulations on your pregnancy (y/n)! your blood test came back positive with hcg.” your doctor began, “now let’s talk about some upcoming lifestyle changes you'll have to make.”

“wait, when do we get to see the baby?” satoru interrupted. you glared at him, dark green eyes telling him ‘shut up, satoru’.

“we’ll perform the ultrasound after this, satoru.” your doctor chimed. “(y/n), i want you to start taking a pre-natal. stop eating raw fish, deli meats, and eat thoroughly cooked meats for now.”

you blinked twice. that meant no sushi for you. your heart sank a little. satoru noticed the disappointment shift in your mood. he felt a little guilty.

"so that's why you had me cook your steak well-done..." satoru whispered to himself. you scoffed at his sudden realization from two weeks ago. (read ‘accidents’ here)

“do you or satoru have any pre-existing medical conditions in either families?”

“no. but he might be pre-diabetic by the time he’s 40.” you snorted.

satoru chuckled and reported back, “there’s nothing on my side of the family to note.”

“that’s great to hear. just be aware of gestational diabetes, (y/n). i know you love your chocolate ice cream so watch your intake.” your doctor typed some notes in your patient profile, “your due date is looking close to october 14th. any other questions?”

“can the baby come earlier?” satoru quickly asked.

your doctor smiled at the both of you, “i wouldn’t necessary call it early, but babies are considered full term at 37 weeks. it would be good for the baby to be born around or after that time.”

“uhm, do you think i’ll be able to give birth vaginally?” you asked next. your sister-in-law had to have c-sections, so that worried you. her recovery was a journey for her and honestly, it scared you. but you were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure baby gojo arrived safely.

“as long as there aren’t any complications, of course. we can plan on that. we'll just have to monitor how your pregnancy is going.” your doctor picked up on yours and satoru’s quiet and awkward social queues, "and yes, you can still have sex while you're pregnant.

"oh, thank god." satoru sighed in relief as you smacked him with the back of your hand. he was so embarrassing.

"please, just ignore him." you looked at your doctor, cheeks cherry red.

she laughed and asked the most important question of the day, “are you guys ready to meet your baby?”

you nodded your head and giggled, “yes. i think satoru’s more excited than i am. he won't shut up about it.”

“i’ve been waiting two weeks for this moment.” satoru said with a sheepish smile, his hand scratching the back of his fresh undercut. his blue eyes peeking through from his sunglasses.

“okay, let’s get started then.” your doctor announced while snapping on her sterile gloves. “we’ll be performing a transabdominal ultrasound today, nothing painful.”

she squeezed a handful of gel to apply to your belly. you jumped in your seat.

“are you okay?” satoru asked, concerned at your sudden movement.

you reassured him, “yeah, the gel is just cold.”

your doctor laughed in amusement and started to rub the wand around your abdomen. you heard a fast thumping noise.

“is that the heartbeat?” you wondered, looking at the black and white screen. satoru smiled from ear-to-ear as he cupped his cheek in his right hand, his left hand squeezing yours. hearing his baby’s heartbeat might take the cake for one of his favorite sounds in the world, next to your laugh.

your doctor reported back, “yup. a healthy 138 bpm. i’m gonna take some pictures now…”

you saw a tiny circle in the middle of the monitor as your doctor clicked away on her computer mouse.

“is that the baby?” satoru asked, squinting at the monitor.

“yes. you see the little image that looks like a bean?” she clicked again, “it’s about half an inch… that’s your baby.”

“it’s so cute. how tiny. a baby bean…” you gushed. you turned to look at satoru. he was itching his eyes.

“satoru gojo, are you crying?” you asked in disbelief.

he quickly defended himself, avoiding all eye contact with you. “no! something just got in my eye.”

he was such a liar. his infinity would never allow anything to touch his precious six eyes.

your doctor laughed at the sweet moment between the two of you. you watched the love of your life stare at the black and white screen in amazement. your heart felt like it was going to burst watching him. you wanted to hold him tightly and never let go.

12 weeks: surprise! we’re pregnant!

it was so hard for you and satoru to keep your pregnancy a secret for the past 6 weeks. the only two people who knew you were pregnant were shoko and megumi.

your doctor had advised you to wait until the end of your first trimester to announce your pregnancy because of the risk of miscarriage. once you made it past the first trimester, you thought about how you were going to tell everyone. of course, you and satoru wanted it to be a surprise. an imaginary lightbulb lit above your head.

“babe, i have an idea.” you said excitedly, grabbing satoru’s arm as he was looking through your office drawers for something sweet to snack on.

“hmmm. what is it, sweetheart?” he asked as he unwrapped a piece of chocolate. you always kept a stash of satoru's favorite chocolates in your desk for him because he loved to hide in your office and avoid his sensei duties.

“you know how we usually take a group picture with the faculty, students, and sister school every year? let's tell principal yaga to schedule it early this year.”

“oh, i like where this is going.” satoru laughed. he read your mind. you high-fived him. he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. couples’ telepathy was really a thing.

*********************************

“and why do we have to be here?” maki complained as she folded her arms. she wanted to train, not take a silly picture.

“come on, maki! it’s tradition to get a picture of all the students and faculty. it’s just that we’re taking the picture earlier than usual this year.” panda said as he patted her back.

“even okkotsu came back from his training to be in the picture. my sister flew in just to be in it too.” megumi said as he watched yuta interact with the students from kyoto. tsumiki was attached to your hip. megumi already knew the real reason why the picture was scheduled so early in the school year and why tsumiki was asked to be in the picture.

“alright! everyone looks great.” yuji cheered as he walked to his assigned spot for the group picture.

principal yaga gathered everyone, “please make your way to the field and get into your assigned spots. satoru will be pressing the button for the camera since he can teleport to his spot quickly.”

you nervously watched as all the students and jujutsu high faculty made their way to their spots, getting ready for the picture.

“okay everyone!” satoru shouted as he prepared himself to teleport next to you and megumi, “i’m pressing the timer!”

satoru appeared by your side as the 10 second timer ticked. satoru sneakily pressed record instead taking of a picture. “everyone say ‘(y/n)-sensei’s pregnant’!”

everyone stopped to look at you and satoru in confusion.

“what?”

“what did he say?”

“huh?!”

“(y/n)-sensei… is pregnant?!”

“wait what?”

“holy shit, (y/n)-sensei is pregnant!”

after a few seconds of questioning, everyone realized what had just happened. you had just announced your pregnancy.

in that moment, you were tackled by tsumiki, megumi, yuji, nobara, and yuta as they cheered around you in a group hug. ijichi, akari, principal yaga, nanami, ino, mei, utahime and shoko were all congratulating satoru. they took turns speaking with the both of you, giving you well wishes on a safe and healthy pregnancy.

“congrats, (y/n)-sensei.” maki said with a soft smile, embarrassed she complained about being here. she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.

panda added, “yes, congratulations! we’re excited to see you and satoru become parents.”

“salmon, salmon!” toge congratulated you in his own words.

“thanks everyone. if you guys aren’t busy, we’re going to have a celebratory dinner tonight at splendid sushi. satoru’s treat.” you winked.

“hey! i heard that!” satoru shouted at you from across the field as he grinned. both you and satoru were thrilled to see everyone’s excitement on the news of baby gojo.

*********************************

“are you nervous to tell my brother you knocked up his little sister?” you teased satoru. you kissed his cheek as he brushed the loose strands of black hair behind your ear.

“nah, i’m sure he wants nieces and nephews for his kids. plus, it was an accident.” he joked as he drummed his fingers on the restaurant table. you and satoru people-watched through the restaurant window, waiting for touya and his wife. (a/n: yeah, touya is married with 2 kids now. his wife’s name is hana. a non-sorcerer. maybe i'll write a wedding fic.)

you smiled as you saw your brother walk into the restaurant, holding the door open for hana. touya’s black hair and golden-yellow eyes beamed when he saw you satoru.

“satoru! how have you been, bro?!” touya greeted his self-proclaimed brother, pulling him in for a bro hug.

“i can’t believe he hugged satoru first.” you looked at hana in disbelief as she giggled, hugging you instead.

“they really are bestfriends now.” hana realized as she sat across from you.

satoru sat back down in his seat next to you, touya sitting across from him. “glad you guys could have lunch with us. it’s been awhile.”

“we have a gift for you guys! a souvenir from our last trip.” you lied to your brother and sister-in-law. you pushed a card and white box towards them.

“open it. it’s special, made especially for you.” satoru urged, touya and hana taking the card to open first.

“what do you get a brother who already has everything?” touya read out loud. hana curiously reading along with him. satoru placed his hand on your thigh. the both of you were grinning from ear-to-ear watching the two open the box. they pulled out a beige baby onesie.

touya read the text on the onesie, “how about the title uncle and auntie…?”

after putting 2+2 together, touya hid his face with his hands, both him and hana were so happy for you and satoru. your eyes started to water watching them. a tearful laugh came out of you.

“congratulations, you two. my baby sis is having a baby...” touya said as he got up to embrace you.

you hugged him tighter, “thanks, touya…” you softly said. the warmth of your brother's love and support making you extremely emotional. these pregnancy hormones were out. of. control.

18 weeks: an important question

"aren't you curious to what the gender is?" shoko asked you and satoru. you asked shoko to join you two for lunch today because you had an important question to ask the amber-eyed doctor in regards to your unborn child.

you took a bite of your chicken katsu before answering, "of course we are. but we decided not to find out because we want it to be a surprise."

“what do you want it to be? a boy or girl?”

“it doesn’t matter. as long as baby gojo is healthy.” satoru stereotypically said as he stretched his arm to rest over your shoulder. he secretly wanted a girl.

you added, “we raised megumi and tsumiki. we already experienced the best of both worlds. so i’m not picky.”

“i guess i’m just being selfish because i want to know the gender.” shoko laughed as she took a sip of her mimosa.

“oh! shoko, we have a present for you.” you said as you put down your chopsticks. you turned to satoru and he grabbed another white box with a card attached do it, similar to the one you gave touya and hana.

“it better be the gender of your baby.” she laughed as she took the present from satoru.

“it’s something even better.” satoru said with his signature shit-eating grin.

shoko opened the card, reading it out loud, “i need an extra pair of hands to help me learn and grow… i know that yours will be the best because mommy and daddy told me so…?” she looked at the card, confused.

you asked her clearly while trying not to laugh, “shoko, will you be baby gojo’s godmother?”

shoko stared at both you and satoru after she realized what you had just asked of her. she started to chuckle as she got out of her seat to hug you. “of course, i will. hopefully your baby won’t grow up to be a little shit like satoru.” she said as she punched the white-haired sorcerer in the arm, satoru completely letting her bypass his infinity to do so.

“there’s another gift in there.” satoru added, pointing at the giant glass.

shoko picked up the pint glass and read the etching, “you drink too much. you smoke too much. and you cheated on your medical exam. we can’t think of anyone more suitable to be baby gojo’s godmother.”

shoko laughed, “okay, this might have been better than finding out the gender of your baby.”

26 weeks: baby gojo’s first (external) kick

megumi came home this weekend to spend time with you, satoru, and tsumiki. normally, he would be spending his free time exploring japan with nobara and yuji, but since you were pregnant and tsumiki was back for her semester break from her study abroad program, he wanted to spend his free time with his family.

you were in the kitchen with tsumiki making dinner while satoru and megumi sat around the living room with his demon dogs, shiro and kuro. catoru was lounging in their cat scratch post and your spirit birds were out on the patio enjoying the weather. you didn’t realize how zoo-like your home was until now... and that wasn't even including all of megumi's shikigami either.

while chopping vegetables, tsumiki updated you on her high school adventures abroad. ever since she started at e.f. academy, she has been non-stop on-the-go with extracurricular activities. she told you about her latest projects, how the weather was in california, about all the friends she made, and even the boy she had a small crush on. (read 'wherever you are' here)

on the couch, megumi spoke with satoru about his shikigami and how he’s been able to tame a majority of them now. this was the first time in awhile those two haven’t bickered in your presence, and it was a sight to behold.

you rested your hands on your belly as you leaned your back against the kitchen counter, listening to your sweet teenager talk about how cute her crush was. you reminisced about your time in high school, how you thought satoru was a complete asshole when you first met him, and how his good looks and horrible personality made up for it. if your 18 year old self could see you now, she wouldn’t believe the sight. (read 'love at first fight' here)

you felt a little tap against your hands. “huh?” you said out loud, realizing what you just felt on your hands.

“(y/n)? are you okay?” tsumiki asked as she put down the chopping knife. satoru and megumi turned around from the couch, all the attention was on you.

“i think baby gojo just kicked my hand.” you announced. only you were able to feel baby gojo kick internally for the past couple weeks, but now, you thought that satoru and the kids would be able to actually feel the kicks from the outside too.

“hurry, come over here!” you said frantically, hoping baby gojo would kick again. satoru dramatically teleported beside you as megumi hopped over the couch ledge to race over to the kitchen, kuro and shiro following him.

you took all three of their hands and placed it on your belly where you thought baby gojo was. the demon dogs sniffed around you, their tails wagging happily. you pursed your lips, waiting for another kick. you felt kuro and shiro licking your hands.

and there it was. another gentle kick from baby gojo.

“i felt it!” tsumiki cheered as she jumped around the kitchen. her bright smile lighting up the room.

satoru hugged you from behind. you both smiled while watching tsumiki and megumi. megumi looked at his hand, and then back at your stomach.

“did you feel it, megumi?” you asked him with a smile.

“yeah, i did.” he said softly. “that was pretty cool.”

“what about you, daddy?” you grinned as you asked satoru.

megumi gagged at satoru’s new title, “gross. i’m leaving.”

you and satoru watched as your moody teenager made his way back to the couch, tsumiki’s attention back on chopping vegetables. satoru’s arms were still wrapped around you, his face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. baby gojo kicked once more.

“i think baby gojo is saying ‘let go of us so mommy can finish cooking’.” you giggled as you turned around to face the white haired sorcerer. you caressed his cheek with your palm. he snuck two kisses on your neck.

“fine… but i expect some alone time later.” he winked at you before kissing the palm of your hand.

you laughed, “sorry, babe, the kids are home this weekend, plus you get me all to yourself next week when we go to mexico for our baby moon.”

30 weeks: a first time parents' class

"babe, get ready. i signed us up for a class."

"what kind of class? it better not be another ‘how to have sex while pregnant’ class." you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous class that satoru signed you up for at the beginning of your pregnancy. you sighed, your belly weighing you down on your very comfortable white couch that you would probably need satoru's help getting out of.

he grinned at you as he grabbed your purse and your shoes. "a first time parents class."

your doctor recommended that you and satoru waited until your third trimester to take a 'first time parent' class. the class would teach new parents about the different kinds of births, pain management strategies, what to do if and when your water breaks, how to time contractions, postpartum care, caring for the baby, and baby first aid.

“do we have to go?” you asked, “i’m tired.” feigning exhaustion as you put the back of your hand over your eyes and forehead.

“of course we have to go!” satoru exclaimed as he sat down next to you. he was always so excited whenever it came to anything related to baby gojo. he slipped on your white sneakers for you, swiftly tying your shoe laces bunny ear style as you sat up on your elbows. you caught yourself smiling at him. he was so doting. you could definitely get used to this.

satoru studied you. you weren't wearing any makeup today, but you had the radiant "pregnancy glow" that everyone talked about. you wore a beige dress under a white crop t-shirt that hugged your belly tightly. “you look beautiful, so no need to change or do your makeup.”

“you just don’t want to be late.” you laughed. this was the first time that satoru gojo was on time for anything.

*********************************

satoru teleported you both to the hospital in tokyo that you go to for your all your doctor appointments. apparently the hospital was hosting the class he signed up for. there were many pregnant women with their significant others, friends, mothers, and mother-in-laws sitting around the small auditorium.

as you entered the room, you heard gasps and whispers about satoru.

“wow! what a good looking guy!”

“he’s a total hottie!”

“that guy is gonna be a dilf for sure!”

“do you see the cutie with the white hair and blue eyes?!”

“where should we sit?” satoru asked as he held your hand. you looped your free arm around his bicep covetously, staking claim to your man as if your very pregnant belly didn't do so already.

“don’t pretend like you don’t hear all the women in this room talking about you.” you hissed at him as you sat down in a seat closer to the front of the auditorium. because this happened everywhere you went with satoru, normally it wouldn't bug you, but for some reason it did today.

“somebody’s a green eyed monster today.” he sang with a smug smile. it was his favorite analogy to use when you were jealous because your green eyes were so fitting. he sat down next to you, draping his left arm around your shoulder, his right elbow perched on the arm rest. after over a decade of being with you, he was unphased by comments from other women. he ate it all up in high school, but satoru gojo became a changed man once he met you.

“am not.” you said under your breath. you stayed quiet for a moment. “babe, i just think it’s funny how—”

satoru's left ear was saved as your 'i think it's funny how' rant was interrupted by the presenter, “good afternoon! and welcome to the first time parents class!”

even though you were jealous and didn’t like how all the other women in the auditorium were drooling over satoru, you couldn’t stay mad. throughout the years, satoru’s beautiful blue eyes have never strayed and he never made you feel unwanted, even when you argued or when you were being difficult and stubborn. he was never bothered by your jealously. you were the only person he chased after since the day he met you at jujutsu high.

throughout the class, satoru took notes on his phone and asked questions during the q&a. it was hard to stay mad at a man as dedicated and involved as satoru gojo. you decided to just ignore the women in the class, however, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t cling to satoru when the class ends.

*********************************

“so, what’d you think about the class?” satoru asked as he placed your go-to order of ice cream in front of you. he sat across from you as you glared at his sweet, handsome, smug face.

“it was fine. we learned a lot of information, don’t you think?” you deferred as you scooped a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

“yeah, and i learned that you still get jealous til’ this day.” satoru poked fun at you. “remember the first time i took you shopping in shibuya? you were soooo jealous of all the girls talking about me and you weren’t even my girlfriend at the time.” he laughed at the memory. (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

you quipped back, “satoru, everyone knows that you’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“true,” he agreed while taking a bite of your ice cream, “but it’s nice to see that side of you every once in awhile. what’s my baby gonna do when she’s not my number one anymore?” he mocked in a playful tone, shooting a bright toothy smile at you.

your emerald green eyes pierced his sapphire blue eyes. “what do you mean by that?”

“baby gojo is gonna be my number one.” satoru said nonchalantly, licking caramel off your spoon.

you took your ice cream away from him. holding the cup closer to you instead of putting it in the middle of the table to share.

satoru chastised you, “that’s not nice, sweetheart.”

“you’re insufferable, babe.” you rolled your eyes at him. “first, you let women drool all over you in front of me, then you tell me that i’m not your number one anymore. what’s next? you don’t love me either?”

“there you go with the theatrics.” satoru sighed, folding his arms. he wouldn't expect anything less from his life partner.

“i learned from the best teacher, i think his name was satoru gojo.” you winked at him.

"it's a good thing i love you." satoru said as he leaned over the table to kiss you on the lips. he tasted just like caramel.

32 weeks: nesting

"this fucking crib is going to be the death of me." satoru muttered under his breath as he struggled putting together the 'smart' crib that he bought. as soon as satoru found out you were pregnant, he spent a whole month researching cribs to decide which one he was going to buy for baby gojo. he decided on the most expensive one, thinking that it would be the best. rich people logic. this crib was called a 'snoo'.

"you didn't have to get such a high tech crib, babe." you said as you sat on the bed folding warm, freshly washed baby clothes and baby bedding for the snoo. you admired how cute and small the onesies were. because you and satoru didn't know the gender of your baby, you bought a lot of neutral colored clothing like beiges, tans, browns, and whites.

"my baby is going to have the best everything." satoru boasted. of course, baby gojo was going to be spoiled. they had you and satoru gojo as their parents.

during the past couple of weeks, you and satoru had bought a handful of important things that new parents would need for a newborn baby such as a crib, stroller, car seat, changing table dresser, and a comfortable lounging chair for your bedroom to put next to baby gojo's crib for the late night feeds.

satoru insisted that everything would be 'nuna' branded. the employee at his favorite department store convinced him after they mentioned that nuna was the "lamborghini of baby strollers and car seats." the matching stroller and car seat system was well over $1,000, you couldn't argue with satoru about how much he was spending because it would be hypocritical of you and your spending habits. so you let him get what he wanted.

after hours of setting up the snoo, putting together the baby stroller, installing the car seat, and building the dresser, satoru sighed, "what a long day." he crawled under the covers to meet you in bed, the back of his hand covering his face in exhaustion.

“it’s a good thing you could just use blue to move the lounge chair from the front door to the bedroom. you probably would've broke your back.” you teased him, knowing satoru gojo doesn’t do manual labor.

“the one easy part about today.” he complained.

while satoru took on his fatherly projects, you were able to deep clean the apartment, put baby clothes and diapers into the newly built dresser, add the clean bedding to the snoo, and re-organize all the drawers in the apartment. you were in the nesting stage of your pregnancy.

you turned to face him, your pregnancy pillow creating a divide between you and the exhausted sorcerer. he flattened your pregnancy pillow with his arm as you took his hand to lace your fingers with.

“you could’ve hired someone to build the snoo and the dresser, satoru.” you said to him, knowing that he normally would’ve.

“yeah, i know, but this is for my baby. i want to make sure everything is perfect.”

your heart melted at the fact that satoru was giving it his all to be involved. deep down, he wanted to be a good father and you could see that. you were proud of him.

"congrats, daddy. you just spent the day nesting with me." you smiled. you knew satoru secretly adored his new title.

the white haired sorcerer laughed, “what the hell is nesting? are we birds?”

“nesting is when couples get their home ready for the baby, satoru.”

“oh yeah? spending hours organizing drawers is nesting? because there’s nothing baby gojo will hate more than the junk drawer we have in the kitchen.” satoru teased.

you kissed the back of your teeth in annoyance, “you have been saying for years that you’d clean out the junk drawer. i found crayons in there from when megumi was in elementary school. he's a high schooler now. it only took me getting knocked up for it to finally be clean.”

you turned your body away from satoru. he moved your pregnancy pillow so he could cling to you (and so that he could be the big spoon).

“i’m just kidding, babe.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the back of your shoulder blade with his soft lips.

“uh huh. go to sleep, satoru.” you replied back to him, attempting to shut your eyes.

“so feisty…” satoru mumbled, still peppering soft kisses along your shoulder blade.

37 weeks: full term

"well... i can give birth at any time now." you said as you read your 'what to expect' app.

satoru placed his free hand on your stomach as he joined you on the white fluffy couch in your living room. you moved satoru's hand to where baby gojo was, using his hand to press firmly into your stomach.

he quickly pulled his hand away from you, afraid that he hurt you and baby gojo, "doesn't that hurt your stomach when you press that hard?" he asked.

"babe, no. give me your hand back. you'll be able to feel baby gojo's feet." you said, reaching for his hand that he reluctantly gave back to you. he leaned over to see what the hard feeling in your stomach was.

"that's baby gojo's feet?" he asked, amazed.

"yeah, baby gojo is literally killing me right now though." you said as you shifted uncomfortably. baby gojo liked to sleep in this position, making you lay on your left side more often.

satoru frowned, he knew you were uncomfortable now more than ever. "i'm sorry, babe."

you squinted at him, "what are you apologizing for?"

"for getting you pregnant."

you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so you nuzzled your head on his chest. he pulled you closer to him, "don't apologize for that. apologize if i'm not able to get an epidural or something." you snickered as you looked up at him, "ready to read week 37?"

satoru nodded and kissed the top of your head as you laid against him.

"baby gojo is as big as a canary melon. estimating 19 inches, and 6 pounds. at 37 weeks, you're 9 months pregnant with the end in sight." you read out loud.

satoru took the phone from you to read his part, "at a glance, if baby gojo was born this week, they'd still be early term. baby gojo is practicing for their grand entrance by inhaling and exhaling amniotic fluid, blinking, and turning from side to side. baby gojo can grab onto things now. baby gojo is likely to be sucking their thumb a lot these days in preparation for feeding sessions."

"it says babies grow about a pound a week. the average fetus weighs about 6 pounds. and that boys are likely to be heavier than girls." you read, "since it's a little crowded in your uterus now, baby gojo may not be kicking as much. instead, they're probably stretching, rolling and wiggling." you laughed because baby gojo was still kicking strong, sometimes it was painful, stopping you in your tracks in the middle of the day.

satoru blue-eyes widened as he read the next paragraph, "here's an interesting fact. at birth, baby gojo's head, which is still growing, will be about the same circumference as their chest."

"i pray to god that baby gojo doesn't have your big head or my vagina is toast." you joked.

satoru glared at you, shaking his head while chuckling. he went back to read through some of the pregnancy symptoms. he noticed that you experienced a majority of the symptoms on the list: the pelvic pain, leg cramps, pregnancy brain, and insomnia.

because you were of small stature, you started experiencing more pressure on your pelvis as the weeks went by. sometimes satoru would hold up your belly for you with his infinity whenever you were close by, and you were thankful for such a helpful cursed technique.

before bed, satoru would feed you bananas and massage your legs to help with the leg cramps. with your breasts and stomach as big as they've ever been, you finally got your stretch marks. for the majority of your pregnancy you were stretch mark-free, they didn't appear until the third trimester. satoru liked to call them your 'tiger stripes' when he would help you apply stretch mark creams and oils to your body. him helping you apply those creams and oils was a form of intimacy you didn't know you needed during this time. satoru always knew how to make you feel confident again.

your pregnancy brain caused you to be a little forgetful, so the acrylic whiteboard in the kitchen was your bestfriend. you left little reminders on the board for yourself, satoru, and megumi throughout your pregnancy.

lastly, it was hard for you to sleep now that you were in the home stretch of your pregnancy. every sleeping position was uncomfortable, and you had to wake up multiple times a night to use the bathroom. you never got a consistent amount of sleep.

even though being pregnant was uncomfortable, you experienced some of the best memories with satoru this year: your trip to mexico gifted from touya, your surprise pregnancy announcement, asking shoko to be baby gojo’s godmother, and all the special intimate moments with satoru. your unborn baby was already so loved by everyone. you couldn't have asked for a better accidental pregnancy.

you and satoru laid on the couch together all afternoon, enjoying each other's presence in this chaotic life for jujutsu sorcerers. catoru purred and slept next to you two on the chaise, your spirit birds perched on their stands as they watched over the apartment. you dozed in and out of sleep throughout the day as sleep was rare for you lately.

you felt satoru's warm hand on your belly again, you held his hand and lifted your head, emerald greens looking towards him.

"babe, i have a serious question." you said softly.

raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, he asked you curiously, "and what's your serious question?"

"are you ready to be a dilf?" you laughed.

"are you ready to be a milf?" he asked you back, chuckling, "cause you are definitely a milf, babe."

you smiled at satoru as he continued to plant soft kisses on your hand, "yeah, i'm ready to evict baby gojo."

little did you and satoru know, baby gojo would break your water next week to make their dramatic entrance into the world. yours and satoru's lives would be forever altered.

satoru and oc gojo girlfriend go on a baby moon from week 27, read the bonus chapter, ‘baby moon’ here.

or are you ready to meet baby gojo? read the next chapter, ‘hello baby’ here.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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problematicbyler · 4 months

Text

an incomplete history of byler sexuality discourse

and how widespread fandom purity culture and homophobia created a flourishing nsfw sub-fandom

some may call me chronically online, but i call myself a fandom historian. i've been a member of some fandom or another since i was about thirteen, and i've always been interested in the rise and fall of fandom discourse. though it's annoying in the moment it's happening, i think it's very interesting and telling to look back at the overall arcs and trends.

so, let's talk about the many times the fandom has cancelled people over byler sexuality, and how each level of "hornygate" has contributed to the growth of the proship/byler smut community.

(i use the term proship in its intended definition, which is to say, not "problematic shipping," but rather being pro-fiction, anti-censorship, and anti-harassment; it is a position of believing the fiction one creates or consumes doesn't reflect a person's real life beliefs or morals.)

i have been a stranger things lover since season 1, a byler shipper since season 2, and an active part of the byler community on tumblr since season 4. i'll mostly be focusing on post-season 4 discourse because that's what i've really been most present for and that was the period that really marked a turning point in the fandom.

seasons 1-3

i wasn't as plugged into fandom discourse back in the day, but the broad strokes of early discourse was mostly thinly veiled homophobia. claiming that it was sexualization to assume will or mike could be queer despite blatant queer coding, implying that analysts were no better than will's bullies to assume his sexuality, etc etc. people were criticized for shipping byler at all because they were so young (but these people naturally had no issue with mileven, so, again, homophobia).

season 4 (may-july 2022)

now, season 4. this is where byler was brought to the attention of a lot more fans, and stranger things' viewership reached wider than ever. the byler fandom on tumblr booms from 4k to 100k over the course of season 4's release.

this brought a lot of new people who have never been in fandoms before, people who never learned don't like don't read or your kink is not my kink and that's okay or ship and let ship.

or, a lot of times, people who had only been in fandoms for celebrities and bands, which tend to have different rules when it comes to shipping and sex, because they're real people. hence a lot of young antis' conflation of character with their actors, but that's a different rant.

so with a rapidly growing fandom, a show ripe for analysis, and the art of media literacy bleeding out on the ground in front of us, the hellscape of the fandom post-season 4 in 2022 followed as such:

august 2022

jo/kendra gate where two extremely popular analysts were called out for "sexualizing" byler while being adults (early to mid 20s). they were dogpiled and harassed because one of them said that will was giving mike "bedroom eyes" (he was) and one of them said mike was checking will out (he was):

pyshiie and moogate. the proship side of byler twitter rose up and started to divide itself. i'll credit my own joining-the-dark-side to pyshiie and moo, formerly barbjeanisms, who were two popular artists called out respectively for sexualizing byler and generally being proship. similarly, people were called out and criticized for even following or interacting with those accounts after this discourse.

september 2022

hosegate is the most famous across the byler fandom, and it's when some users proposed that the scene in the pizzeria uses phallic imagery to imply mike turns will on (or vice versa) and a lot of people thought that was too sexualized, it caused a divide, and more fanpolicing, etc.

october 2022

the artist noodlesandtea was harassed for having liked arguably nsfw bakudeku art (they were shirtless, it wasn't explicit) on the same account where they draw characters who are minors. they also drew byler kissing, which was a problem for some? anyone who defended them was also called a pedo, naturally. noodles also got called out for having drawn fanart of the popular e-rated fanfiction....

the unmarked mixtape. a massively popular sequel to a massively popular fic, the red envelope. for a long time, those were the most widely recommended byler fics, but it very soon became taboo to even admit to reading them because the sequel has explicit sex and the first has them making out.

sonnet116 gate is another fic that was beloved and then rapidly turned on by byler twitter because it had implied, fade to black sex scenes. it was about them hooking up but had no smut. and even the non explicit idea of that was offensive and pedophilic of anyone who dared read it. around this time, another fic was called out for having will moaning into a kiss, because writing a teenager moaning was also offensive and pedophilic.

i'm told i (jana / troublebyler gate?) may have influenced a lot of people joining twitter for byler smut after writing illicit affairs and some other smutty oneshots in rapid succession, seeing a lot of byler shippers moving to the proship side of the fandom just to discuss and write byler smut. i also hosted a little fandom gossip column on my curiouscat where a lot of folks confessed to reading or writing smut while pretending to be "normal" in the "main" fandom. it basically revealed/implied that a large amount of popular authors, artists, and accounts were secretly pro byler smut, and that many proshippers were "undercover" in the "main" fandom.

the blocklist era. around this time the "main" fandom also created a "st twt safety" account on twitter which was basically targeted harassment and mass reporting of proshippers. the account does warn of some genuine bad actors sending gore images via dms, being racist, etc. but by far, the majority of it was simply calling out proshippers for sexualizing byler, sharing screenshots they thought were "gross," which only resulted in spreading nsfw content to unintended audiences of minors that likely never would have seen the nsfw accounts otherwise.

november 2022

practice kissing gate is where a handful of popular fic writers were criticized for writing practice kissing fics (such as undertow), and in fact, any amount of byler making out, because adults "fantasizing" about teenagers kissing was "gross."

the proship corner of st twitter continued to grow a lot thanks to so many lovely fan creators, all of whom i couldn't possibly list but who have done a lot for the community! but we continued to get bombarded with endless callout posts and block lists and witch hunting. people were unabashedly policing people's following lists and likes on twitter to call people out for engaging with any questionable users or content. (if you search byler twitter now you can still see the wreckage of so many witch hunts.)

onward through 2023

over time things have mostly calmed down, or at least enough of the folks on "opposing sides" of the fandom have mutually blocked each other to survive. this is likely also influenced by the hiatus leaving the fandom to quiet down, the collapse of twitter-turned-x having many users migrate their fandom content elsewhere, and the mass exodus of many people from the fandom for political reasons. if i had to guess, the ramp-up to season 5 will see all new conflict as more "casual" fans return to the fandom. but who's to say.

which brings us to now:

spicybylerpolls gate, wherein the byler tag on tumblr collectively had to reckon with the fact that people want byler to have sex and it doesn't make them creeps to vote in silly polls about it. people criticized the blog for being overly sexualized and pure fantasy versus more "acceptable" analysis, with many making sweeping moralizing statements about anyone who dared interact with the blog.

this has kicked off tumblr's own sort of horny revolution in encouraging folks to be more open on here, whereas previously we were confined to our corner of twitter.

so in summary:

people over and over again put fan creators on a pedestal just to turn on them when they're "betrayed" when a person's views did not one-to-one line up to theirs.

teens in the fandom especially were "betrayed" by adults in the fandom they thought were "safe" (and i would argue that self proclaimed "safe" adults in fandom are far more dangerous to real life minors than the proship fans who sexualize fictional characters but dont interact with real teens)

most everything has been fueled by widespread ageism at any fan over the age of 18, widespread homophobia and puritanism in regards to exploring queer sexuality or discussing sex at all

so much hate has been over what are essentially "thought crimes", with people watering down serious accusations like pedophilia into a petty insult over disagreements on fiction

and the cycle repeats itself endlessly until things devolve back into witch hunting and policing peoples following and likes etc

the best part to me is that every single cancellation just resulted in more people flooding to the horny side of the fandom to post more freely and without shame. every time a person on twitter posted screenshots of my account to say how "gross" it was (while simultaneously exposing my 18+ nsfw content to their audience of minors) i had a surge in followers. the more the fandom squeezes, the more people slip from its hold.

but that doesn't make the harassment campaigns okay, and it doesn't mean the fandom didn't do massive amounts of harm to real people in an attempt to protect fictional characters.

my hope going forward is that the fandom can coexist as a community where people don't have to like or agree with certain content to treat the people who create it with respect and dignity. and i hope that, while this side of the fandom might grow more on tumblr, we don't have to relive the same old discourses and go through the same cycles we went through on twitter.

and remember kids, the block button is both free and fun.

#byler #spicy byler #fandom discourse #fandom history #stranger things #proship #profiction #proshipping #anti censorship #purity culture #fandom politics

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georgescitadel · 1 month

Text

George R.R. Martin on the process of creating A Game Of Thrones

You hold in your hands the second volume of A Song of Ice and Fire… but not the second volume as originally intended. Although I wrote the opening of A Game of Thrones back in the summer of 1991, as related in my introduction to the Meisha Merlin edition of that volume, it was not until October of 1993 that I drew up a proposal for my agents to take to publishers. There is no mention of any book titled A Clash of Kings in that proposal. In 1993, I was under the impression that I was writing a trilogy.

Trilogies had been the dominant form in epic fantasy ever since J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings had been broken apart by publishers and released in three volumes. And the story that I wanted to tell divided quite naturally into three parts; much more so, in fact, than The Lord of the Rings, which is actually one fairly seamless narrative, and not a trilogy at all. I planned to title the books A Game of Thrones, A Dance with Dragons, and The Winds of Winter. I knew right from the start that they would all be large books. Huge books, even. But there were to be only three of them, and…and none were to be called A Clash of Kings. Sometimes the author is the last to know.

As I write this, I am halfway through the writing of A Feast for Crows, the fourth volume of my ‘trilogy.’ There is no mention of that title in my 1993 proposal either. These days, when pressed, I confidently assert that A Song of Ice and Fire will ultimately run to six books… but behind my back I know my lady Parris is smiling knowingly and holding up seven fingers. She may be right. Though I may dream of six books, plan for six books, work toward six books, the only thing that truly matters is the story. And the story needs to be as long as the story needs to be.

In Hollywood, the suits will tell you how long that is. A television show has to fit within its allotted time slot, of course, and you cannot beg, borrow, or steal an extra minute, no matter how much the story needs it. Running times are somewhat more flexible for films, though not as much as one might think. For the most part, the studios still want movies to run about two hours, so they look for screenplays of 120 pages or less, and demand cuts in any scripts that come in longer. My own screenplays and teleplays were almost always too long and too expensive in first draft, so in my later drafts, along with addressing the inevitable notes from studio, network, and producers, I was constantly trimming. In the end, I would deliver a shooting script that was the right length and under budget, but it was never a happy process… and I often went away feeling that the earlier drafts were the better ones.

The size of A Song of Ice and Fire was in no small part a reaction to ten years of trimming. I wanted to do something epic in scale, something at once grand and sprawling and complex and subtle, with a cast of thousands, huge battles, mighty castles, gorgeous costume, lavish feast, great rivers, towering mountains, vast fields… all the things I could not do in television. In short. I wanted to make a world. And for that you need a bit of room.

In my original proposal, I estimated that each volume of the trilogy might run as long as 800 pages in manuscript. The novels that I had written during the 70's and 80's, before Hollywood, had generally come in at 400 or 500 pages or thereabouts, so an 800 pages book seemed very lengthy indeed. The three books of the trilogy would be structured around the long, slow seasons of Westeros. A Game of Thrones would be summer’s book, A Dance with Dragons would take us through autumn, and The Winds of Winter… well, the title says it all. Even in the Seven Kingdoms, where a season can last for years, 800 pages ought to give me enough room to reach the end of summer and conclude the part of my tale, I reasoned.

‘Twas a lovely plan of battle… but no plan of battle ever survives contact with the enemy, it has been said. Writers know the truth of that as well as any general, though our wars are fought on blank white sheets of paper and empty computer screens. For the map is not the territory, the blueprint is not the house, the recipe is not the dinner… and the outline is never ever the book.

- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings Limited Edition Introduction (2002)

#Ned Stark #Catelyn Stark #Sansa Stark #Arya Stark #Bran Stark #Jon Snow #Tyrion Lannister #Daenerys Targaryen #The Outline #A Game Of Thrones #George R.R. Martin #ValyrianScrolls #ASOIAF

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iexistforidkwhatreason · 3 months

Text

My experience with Lumii/HoneyStarlightz/Lumiidere/Lumii after dark/KiramekiCookie

I have to get this out of my system because I'm deadass tired of watching this person wander around as if they're innocent when they aren't, and I'm also annoyed because of people not noticing what this person does behind the scenes because it now takes one quick Google Search using the prompt "Luca Wii Sports" to go down the rabbit hole. This is about HoneyStarlightz/Lumii.

Lemme begin with the minor stuff. So you know how Lumii has a massive grudge against me because of most of, if not all the stuff I drew in my DeviantArt account? Almost everything there was drawn when I was a FUCKING MINOR. I am 20 years old as we speak, and most of the drawings Lumii mentions happened BEFORE MY 18TH BIRTHDAY on the 1st of December, 2021, and I'll admit, during most of that time, I was a dumbass, immature, and an edgelord. I then stopped posting anything bloody and/or revealing but continued to post harmless drawings before my 18th birthday happened. October 11th of last year was when I stopped posting on that account all together because I found out that DeviantArt was blaming Hamas and Hamas only for the Palestinian deaths and making it as if the Israel military didn't do a thing to innocent lives in Palestine after Hamas attacked.

Next, we have them making me look like an asshole for shipping Luca with Abby (The one shipart I made of the two apparently traumatized them). Back when I was 17, I decided to draw Abby and Luca, two Miis I'm not a fan of, nor close to, as a couple because I thought shipping the two was a good idea. I then posted the finished product on the 23rd of January, 2021. The drawing was not meant to traumatize anyone. It was JUST. SHIP. ART. OF. ABBY. &. LUCA. The only bad thing about that drawing was that I shoved my opinion of the two Miis down people's throats in the description by asking how the hell do people like them because to me, they're just not fun to play against at all, and even then, it was drawn three to four years ago, and I don't even ship the two anymore. I ship Abby with Wii U Barbara now. Mate, I didn't even know Lumii EXISTED back then, let alone know they had a massive love for Luca.

Next, there's the clear as day hipocrisy that people have yet to notice somehow. So you know how Lumii has "Opinion Bashers" on their DNI list, right? On that same list, they also have people that hate, despise, even dislike Luca, instantly making them a hypocrite because they said they don't want to interact with people who just cannot tolerate others having a different opinion while also saying that if you think Luca is not a good Mii, you're instantly on their shit list. Also, they said no exceptions, meaning you can be the nicest person in the world, but if you dislike Luca, go fuck yourself.

I have several friends that like Luca a lot, some of which are here on Tumblr. I do not like Luca. We get along perfectly fine. I don't understand why they feel like Luca haters and Luca lovers can't co-exist when they clearly can. Just don't be an ass to others when it comes to what you think of the character, mate.

Lastly, we have the fact that they cannot take criticism. They said criticism is prohibited on their DeviantArt profile, which means that you can say anything positive about their art, but if you say anything negative, then nope. Get out. Oh, I'm so sorry I gave you a harmless critique that was just saying what I didn't like and how you can improve. I apologize.

Seriously tho, how sensitive can you be to the point where you prohibit people from critiquing your work? Or is it that they can't criticize you? Or is it both?

Now we go to the bigger stuff, starting with the TRANSPHOBIA ACCUSATIONS and obvious delusion. They said, and I quote "please shut the fuck up for calling him "Lucapoopa", "Boring", "Annoying", "Scum" and "Tedious" for the love of fucking god, he's fucking overhated and y'all are too harsh and transphobic at him, fucking hell".

Luca is not canonically trans. Don't even say he is because of unused data because I did my research, and the only unused data he has is facial hair related. Don't get me wrong, Luca being trans is a HC that I'm completely fine with. If you want to headcanon him as trans, fine by me. Trans rights all the way, mate. Don't fucking call people transphobic just for disliking Luca tho! Luca is not canonically trans, and even if he was, bold of Lumii to assume that someone that hates Luca hates him because he's trans. He appears as an opponent in three games and there's a chance that he might piss you off in all three.

How delusional do you have to be to see someone hate a character that isn't trans outside of your HC and go "Oh, they're transphobic"?

Next, there's fullblown insensitivity. I decided to check on DeviantArt for something, and I get a DM from someone. We had a chat about Lumii, and in that chat, they showed this...

Can you spot the insensitive part? Here, I'll make it easier for ya.

I'm completely fine with people giving dark backstories to Miis in their HC, but there's a line, and you crossed it. Can we not do rape related headcanons, please? I feel like that should go without saying because, oh, I dunno, that shit is OBVIOUSLY IN BAD TASTE!

Lastly, there's something I cannot show here because if I do, I'm going to get in trouble... It has to do with porn...

Lumii has a total of three accounts that I bumped into while looking at Luca images on Google that have porn of Miis on them. They have a Newgrounds account (KiramekiCookie), which has two drawings of Luca porn, a Bluesky account (Lumii after dark), which has twelve, and a Twitter/X account with the same name, which not only has porn of Luca, but of other Miis too... AND THERE'S AN UNGODLY AMOUNT OF IT, MOST OF IT BEING LUCA PORN! TELL ME YOU'RE OBSSESSED WITH OUT TELLING ME YOU'RE OBSSESSED!

I make YOU uncomfortable, Lumii? I make YOU uncomfortable?! You drew Luca laying eggs, you drew a worrying amount of Luca porn, and yet you have the AUDACITY to say I make YOU uncomfortable when you're obviously worse, you fucking hypocrite?! You drew art that is bound to make several people uncomfortable the moment they see it on the THREE ACCOUNTS you have, you falsely accuse people of transphobia, you obssess over Luca an unhealthy and uncomfortable amount, and yet I'M the one in the wrong because I drew ship art of Luca and Abby and art that has blood on it years ago?! I don't get your logic!

BTW, for those who say that this could've been resolved privately, it couldn't because Lumii has blocked me on DeviantArt, and they also blocked me on an old Tumblr account of theirs too, meaning that talking to them was out of the fucking question. They CLEARLY did not want to talk it out. They just wanted to avoid me entirely while also antagonize me for shit I did years ago that wasn't even that bad compared to the crap they did.

Lumii, if you manage to see this, which I know you will because I know you have a Discord and I know someone's gonna send a screenshot to you on there... All of this could've been avoided had you just been a better person.

#miiblr

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bedoballoons · 7 months

Note

Hello I suddenly had a idea since it's October

And thought of the anemo boys finding out that

Reader is a werewolf because of a full moon

Ahhh apologies you didn't get this in october! I hope you still enjoy the idea though because I loved writing it! Thank you for your request! <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Awoooo~༺}

CW: Slight fear in the characters, reader is a werewolf, fluffy in most but angst in Wanderers!! Xiao has a bird form!!

(Includes: Venti, Kazuha, Heizou, Wanderer, and Xiao!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Venti:

"Are...are you okay?" Venti reached a hand out to you, his face pale and body shaking with the cold of the spooky night. He could barely make out your shadow in the light of the full moon, you were groaning in pain...body shifting before his eyes in ways his brain didn't know how to handle. "H-hello?"

Your head turned, no longer that of a humans, but of a ravage beast with almost glowing yellow eyes and sharp teeth. He was petrified in place, unable to move even a inch as you drew closer... you could never hurt him...you wanted him to know it was okay. "I'm...not dangerous...I swear."

He fell to the ground, back against the tree as you closed the distance, gently tapping your nose to his knee and hoping with all your heart.. he'd still accept you after finding out your big bad secret. He closed his eyes tightly, reaching out a shaky hand to touch your soft fur. Once he did he seemed to ease up...still finding the whole situation jarring, but no longer scary and definitely not enough to end what you shared.

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Kazuha was trying his best to stay calm, but seeing you in the bright moonlight with fur that ruffled in the wind and hearing your howl when you caught the look in his eyes...it was alot for him. "W-what's going on? What h-happened to you?" He had goosebumps all over his skin and his heart was pounding so loud that your sensitive ears heard it like a beating drum, but he still kneeled down in front of you...wanting not to run away...but make sure you that you were alright, even though he was scared he still cared about you.

"I'm okay...I promise. I just...don't want you to think I'm going to hurt you, just because I'm like this doesn't make me a monster..."

"I know you won't, I guess my mind got the better of me...no matter if you have claws and sharp teeth or soft hands and sweet smiles, I will always love you."

𑁍༄Heizou:

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"I knew it..."

Those words were anything but what you were expecting...had he really found out your secret before the moon had even been full. "H-how could you possibly have known? I know you're a-a detective but-"

"But I know you and I love you, so obviously I tend to notice things about you more often than you do. I wasn't entirely sure if my hypothesis could be true...I just had a inkling."

"And...do you hate me for it..?"

"Not in the slightest, you're the love of my life and if anything it just makes me all the more curious about you. I want to learn everything."

"W-what are you? Why do you look like that?" Wanderer looked at you...something almost like betrayal painted on his features while you stared back at him with wide yellow eyes,..unable to ease his feelings. "I'm...a werewolf...and I look like this because of the full moon, but I promise it's not bad. I don't want to hurt anyone or be a monster, I didn't even want you to find out..."

"I wish I hadn't."

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao kneeled down in front of you, his eyes meeting yours as he watched you intensely...you were shocked to see him unfazed by your change from the moon. "Xiao...you're not... surprised?" He shook his head, slowly reaching out to touch your fur as he whispered quietly under his breath, "I wouldn't say not surprised... it's more like...I understand."

"What.."

He sighed, pulling away so you could watch in awe as he changed too, his body shrinking into that of a birds and dark teal feathers now taking place of his normal skin...he was more like you than you ever could have known.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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milkb0nny · 8 months

Note

okie dokie i gotta request a sam x fem!reader where shes sams age but hits it off with dean? (strictly platonic between d+r) shes just a lot of fun at a karaoke bar or something? or maybe she beats dean in a game of pool(up to you) but just her flirting till she gets to sam and then she actually enjoys talking to him, they spend the night chatting about everything and anything. (maybe she invites him over to her place but like for a movie cuz dean took some blonde chick back to their motel??) idk up to you❤

Pumpkin Soup

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: While you spent a lovely night at a karaoke bar, playing truth or dare with some people your age, you got to know Dean Winchester. His funny attitude immediately captivated you, wanting you to become closer friends to the chaotic, hot-headed man. Though after a few drinks and games, his brother joined the group. Sam had previously investigated in a current case, decided to enjoy himself afterwards though. That was the moment you met a man who went beyond your expectations. The gentle charm of Sam trapped you in. In order to learn more about Sam, you accepted his offer to cook pumpkin soup at his current place. However, Dean wouldn’t come along the two of you, as he enjoyed the company of another woman. You didn’t mind though…

Note: Thank you for your request! I’m all in for Sam requests, as I really love him a lot. This idea is absolutely wholesome and I decided to throw some autumn vibes into it. After all, it’s October and I love pumpkins. :)

Warnings: implied sexual activity of Dean, reader thinking abt uncomfortable men back in her past

word count: …

As the karaoke bar pulsed with energy on that memorable Friday night, little did you know that a game of truth or dare would lead you to meet two extraordinary men, each with their own captivating charm. You never thought that a harmless party evening could change your life, and especially your view on two specific men.

You had joined a group of people, some of them went to the same college as you and with others you were already familiar. You’re for sure not a mere party girl, but you enjoyed the company of many happy people around you. It wasn’t the alcohol you loved to consume when you went out - it was the exciting thrill of meeting new people who could make your life way more colorful. In all honesty, among all the positive experiences, you crossed paths with uncomfortable men as well. Luckily, this night you got spared with the overly pushy men and instead got blessed by a kind and enthusiastic man.

During a traditional, spirited game of truth or dare, you were more or less forced to flirt with him. Surely, the stranger was handsome, but you didn’t feel any sparkling or tingling sensations while teasing the male. All in all, the atmosphere was electric, filled with a lot of laughter and buzzing music. After about half an hour of people telling others their most embarrassing moments of their lives and participating in surprisingly stupid dares, you decided to grasp some hair. The karaoke bar had a balcony, where you headed with a tequila in your hand. During your hunt for oxygen, a familiar deep voice rang through your ears.

“Hello there, beautiful,” he chimed in, delivering a flirtatious remark that drew a grin from you as you leaned casually on the balcony fence.

“What’s up? Haven’t you got enough of me?” you teased, keeping a watchful eye on him. For a brief moment, you feared he might become pushy, but your concerns were swiftly dispelled by his response.

Dean's striking green eyes traveled up and down your face, revealing a hint of genuine concern that softened his usually confident features.

“No, I haven’t. But in all honesty, I got a little worried since you left the group without telling anyone. Not that anything happens to you”, he replied softly, keeping a respectful distance between you. You were taken aback by his genuine worry, and it made you feel a bit self-conscious, prompting you to avert your gaze from his as you tried to hide your flustered face.

“You don’t have to, I can take care of myself,” you responded, and despite the seemingly cold statement, Dean understood that you valued your independence.

Again, his low voice met your ears, “Your name was y/n, right? You’re hella funny!” Dean changed the topic, offering some comic relief and lightening the atmosphere between you. You quickly picked up on his cues, expressing how his humor had brightened your evening. Your conversation with Dean flowed naturally, and you found his humor and carefree attitude irresistibly magnetic. He had the kind of infectious charisma that could turn any gathering into a wild adventure. Dean Winchester was a captivating mix of chill, cocky, and respectful of boundaries, and it was a rare pleasure to engage in a conversation with no underlying sexual tension. The man’s name was Dean Winchester.

After the private and endearing chat, both of you rejoined the group, which was now deep into the revelry fueled by alcohol and other substances. As the night wore on, a new figure entered the scene, a tall, handsome brunette who immediately gravitated toward you and Dean. He seemed slightly out of place amidst the intoxicated chaos, yet he appeared to find a measure of enjoyment in the surroundings. You quickly learned he was none other than Dean's brother, Sam Winchester. Sam had been previously engrossed in investigating a perplexing case, but now he had decided to take a break and enjoy the evening's festivities. Though he wasn't usually the party type, he occasionally sought a change of pace.

Meeting Sam, you quickly realized he was unlike what you had expected. In stark contrast to his hot-headed and impulsive brother, Sam exuded a gentle charm that immediately captivated you. He spoke thoughtfully, using intriguing vocabulary, and while he seemed a bit reserved and addressed Dean more often, you sensed a hint of shyness in him. His deep, expressive eyes held a sense of mystery, and his warm smile made you feel at ease. Sam was an entirely different kind of captivating, and you couldn't help but want to get to know him better.

„Do you want a drink?“ you inquired, hoping to initiate a connection between the two of you. Dean, ever the flirt, immediately picked up on your subtle intentions and moved on to a new companion who seemed to enjoy his playful company—a blonde woman with a delightful sense of humor. Sam's gaze now lingered on you for a few moments longer than before.

„Sure, I‘m in,“ he replied, a soft smile laced over his lips. You were really beautiful which is why he couldn‘t help but admire your facial features. To Sam, you appeared utterly stunning, surpassing every other woman he had ever come across.

The two of you made your way to the bar, and he ordered his usual: a beer. As you reached for your wallet to pay for your drinks, the courteous man was a step ahead, already covering the tab for both of you. Caught pleasantly off guard, you flashed him a grateful smile. „Thanks. I‘m y/n!“

„My pleasure, call me Sam,“ he inquired, straightening his posture. „Seems like you get along quite well with my brother.“

„Yeah, though he comes off like he only wants that one thing, haha,“ you joked, met by a soft chuckle from Sam‘s side. The corners of his lips curved up as you spoke, and the warmth of his smile sent a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Sam was undeniably handsome

Sam picked his brother up again, replying to your statement, „I get what you mean. He occupies the room more enough when we have to share one.“ he admitted, a hint of amusement in his tone.

„Oh, are you like travelers or something?“ You asked, curious about his life. Sam owned such a special charm that you rarely had met in your life, especially in men. His impeccable manners and pure kindness, devoid of ulterior motives, were refreshingly genuine. You couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

„You could say that, yeah. We’re usually on the road for quite some time and finish a job here and there. Similar to freelancers.“

Sam explained, and your eyes widened with excitement. Traveling and exploring new places was a goal you shared, and the idea of their adventurous lifestyle piqued your curiosity. „Woah, that’s cool. Do you see a lot of exciting stuff on the road?“

While he had indeed witnessed many thrilling experiences—some he wished he hadn't—there were times when he longed for a quieter existence. „Uh, yeah. I appreciate staying at a place for a little longer too though, I must say it can get very tiring.“

„Oh, that’s sad to hear,“ you sympathized. Your mind was struck on Sam and he very much seemed like he enjoyed your conversation. The hours passed as you shared funny stories from your past, confessing to your middle school clumsiness while Sam regaled you with amusing anecdotes about Dean. Sharing embarrassing secrets fostered a connection between you two. Somehow you wanted to stay in his company. You started to love his awkwardness little by little.

Unexpectedly, he suggested you both head back to his place to cook pumpkin soup—a proposition you found both intriguing and charming. It was a far cry from the typical advances you'd encountered in the past, and you couldn't resist the chance to spend more time with this enigmatic man. Unfortunately, Dean stopped by, the lovely woman in his arms.

„Well, who do we have here?“ Dean quipped, grinning at Sam. "I'll be taking this wonderful lady with me tonight, just so you know."

„No, Dean. You can‘t always ignore that I share that room too-,“ Sam began to protest before Dean cut him off with a smirk.

„Sure I can.“ He replied, leaving the karaoke bar accompanied by the woman.

Sam sighed, his offer thwarted by his older brother once again. "I'm sorry, I have to—" he started to explain. But this time, your cheerful voice interjected.

„No worries. We can head to my place. I‘m sure you’ll love it there.“ You invited the tall man to your place. You were touched by his charming smile in response. He nodded and stood up, thanking the bartender for his excellent service before following you.

The evening turned into a relaxing, cozy night with a man you never thought could exist so perfectly. The gentle charm of Sam and the promise of getting to know him on a more personal level made you momentarily forget about Dean's absence. There was something undeniably intriguing about the Winchester brothers, and you were eager to explore the depths of Sam's persona, all while cooking a warm and comforting meal together.

Finally, about 3am in the morning, you shared your usual lonely living room with Sam, eating the most delicious pumpkin soup you ever had.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam x reader #sam x you #supernatural #supernatural dean #supernatural sam #spn fanfic #spn #spnfandom

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suckerforcate · 1 year

Note

hello my favourite fanfiction writer,

i would like to request a larissa x reader, where they are cuddling in bed and are reading a book together (just choose your favourite one, it's up to you) and larissa decides to just read it aloud bc she knows what her voice is doing to reader.

thank you <3

Ride or Die

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Word Count: 1140

Warning: none?

A/n: Thank you!!😭 I loved this so much, hope you do too! I used Wuthering heights for this. This is a mix of fluff/hurt/comfort/angst. Hope this what you wanted! Ly<3

You loved those moments, the most intimate and yet not sexual at all. The way your body felt on her arms and her warmth so close to you. These were the moments of pure trust and love.

Larissa was reading a book, holding you close to her. You had no idea what book she was reading, but that didn't matter to you, you just wanted to hear her voice.

"Read out loud?" Larissa stopped reading and gazed down at you, smiling lovingly. Gently she stroked your arm and placed a kiss on your hair.

"But I'm in the middle of it, you'll understand nothing." You looked at her with so much love in your eyes, smiling adorably.

"I don't care, you know how much I love your voice." It was odd to Larissa, still. How much you loved her, all her life people had made her think she was unlovable. And here you were, loving every little bit of her. Even something so small as her voice, you loved her height, the way her hips looked, the colour of her eyes, her fingers and the way her hair fell over her shoulder, if let loose. She often wondered what she had done to deserve that, how you could be real. With a shaky smile, and blushy cheeks she nodded at you. Turning back to her book, she started to read.

"Summer drew to an end, and early Autumn-it was past Michaelmas, but the harvest was late that year, and a few of our fields were still uncleared."

Larissa's voice was the only noise in the quiet bedroom, making your body fill with warmth. She didn't speak very loud, but her mouth was close to your ear, so you heard her clearly. The feeling of her breath and the words on your skin, made you shiver. Nuzzling deeper into her embrace, you carefully listened to her.

"Mr Linton and his daughter would frequently walk out among the reapers: at the carrying of the last sheaves, they stayed till dusk, and the evening happening to be chill and damp, my master caught a bad cold, that settling obstinately on his lungs, confined him indoors throughout the whole of the winter, nearly without intermission."

Never in your life had you felt so safe, her voice had this magic ability to calm you completely and immediately. Often when your anxiety and panic overwhelmed you, all you needed was her voice. It didn't matter what she said, she could read the operation manual of a vacuum cleaner, and it would help. It brought you this feeling of utter peace.

"Poor Cathy, frightened from her little romance, had been considerably sadder and duller since its abandonment: and her father insisted on her reading less, and taking more exercise. She had his companionship no longer; I esteemed it a duty to supply its lack, as much as possible, with mine; an inefficient substitute, for I could only spare two or three hours, from my numerous diurnal occupations, to follow her footsteps, and then, my society was obviously less desirable than his."

Suddenly you felt like all the love you had in you for her would make you explode. You had the urge to tell her, tell her what she meant to you, tell her how much you loved her and that you wanted to grow old with her and never have her leave your side. But you had never said that, she had neither. You had told her that you loved various parts of her, and she probably knew that you loved her. Just as you knew she loved you, still it was unspoken. Wanting to keep this deep and serious confession for a perfect moment, and this was that moment. It couldn't be better.

"On an afternoon in October, or the beginning of November, a fresh watery afternoon, when the turf and paths were rustling with moist, withered leaves, and the cold, blues sky was half hidden by clouds, dark grey strea-"

"Larissa," she stopped, looking down at you. Seeing the uncertainty and nervousness in your eyes, she immediately placed the book on her night stand and sat up straighter. Yet, never taking her arm away from around you, "I- I love you." Larissa froze, sure she knew you loved her. But saying it aloud was like a real commitment. It was a promise, not to be broken.

She took you by the arms and placed you in front of her. With her hands she cupped your face, and you saw her eyes glistening with freshly forming tears. She brushed a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear, and slowly she leaned in. This kiss was entirely different to any kiss you had shared before. It was like a seal to the promise you had just made. A promise to protect her heart at any cost. And as much as you wanted the kiss to go on forever, you needed to tell her. You needed her to know.

"Larissa, I want to say something." You mumbled between kisses. Larissa immediately pulled away, looking at you concerned. Scared that you'll take it back, her insecurities getting the best of her.

"I love you, Larissa. But I feel like those words don't suffice to say what I feel for you. I don't want you away from me, and I don't mind, if I never love anyone else again, I'm done. You're my ride or die. The love of my life. And I'll protect you, I'll protect your heart at whatever cost." The tears she had tried very hard to keep inside spilled now. Slowly running down her cheek, she didn't know what to say. She sat in front of you, frozen, eyes filled with shock.

Never had she imagined anyone could think like this about her. Your ride or die? How could she be someone's ride or die?

"I-, you-," Larissa's usual eloquence seemed to fail her, "your ride or die?" She chocked out, between sobs.

"My ride or die." You said, pulling her into a hug. You knew her past, the way she had been made fun of all her life. You understood how hard it was for her to grasp your words. Comforting her, stroking her back and playing with her hair you let her sob into your shoulder and whispered reassuring words to her. Telling her how much you loved her over and over.

After she had calmed down, you pulled her into your arms, nuzzling back into the pillow. Picking up the book, from her night stand you started to read.

"dark grey streamers, rapidly mounting from the west, and boding abundant rain; I requested my young lady to forego her ramble because I was certain of showers. She refused; and I unwillingly donned a cloak, and took my umbrella..."

#gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie x reader #wlw #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x you #larissa x reader #wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednsday addams #principle weems #wuthering heights

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thelettergii · 8 months

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The Witches Collection

My take on the Witches of Oz, inspired by the cardinal directions. I drew this back in 2021, but I'm sharing it now to announce that I'm holding a 20% off sticker sale for the month of October!

I've turned some of my original fashion designs into stickers inspired by tarot cards (but mostly Clow Cards tbh). One of my most popular sticker sets is the Witches pack!

Use the code WITCHY2023 to get 20% off anything in my sticker shop! The code expires October 31, 2023 11:59pm PST.

IMPORTANT: All orders made before Oct 5 will be shipped out that week. Any orders made after Oct 5 won’t be shipped until the end of the month. I will be out of town partway through the month, so I can only ship the first and last weeks of the month!

#witchtober #witchcore #tarot stickers #small business #wizard of oz #artings

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emjayewrites · 4 months

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Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic) (3/?)

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @nikki01234 @yeea-nah @sirlew44 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @marzzrambles @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @mitruscity @burberryfilms @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @pharaohanubis0 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @galatially @jasmindaughteroftheworld @laptiteantillaise

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 3: Nowhere to Hide, Baby

Flashback to October 2018, Manhattan

The dim lights of the bar at SoHo House illuminated the room, casting an amber glow onto every surface, and Lewis couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement coursing through his veins. This year marked a turning point in his racing career, he was on the precipice of winning his fifth World Driver's Championship, and he was determined to savor every moment of it.

Seated at the sleek wooden bar, Lewis tapped his fingers aimlessly against the smooth surface, replaying the day's events in his head. From seeing his face plastered across Times Square to back-to-back interviews, it had been a long day full of press obligations. But despite his exhaustion, he couldn't shake off the adrenaline coursing through him for this week's race in Austin, Texas.

And then, amidst the chatter and clinking of glasses, Lewis's gaze landed on her. She stood among her coworkers, her vibrant red midi dress catching his eye like a beacon in the dark. Her mischievous laughter and sparkling eyes drew him in, captivating him completely. The noise of the bar faded into the background as he focused solely on this enchanting woman before him.

His eyes scanned her body hungrily, appreciating every curve and how the color of her dress complemented her deep skin tone. Lewis was known for his love of women, some would say too much as rumors swirled about his revolving door of relationships. But after an eight-year-long relationship, what else was a man to do? His most recent "flavor of the month" was rapper Nicki Minaj - he enjoyed her bold personality and unapologetic confidence, but he knew she wasn't wifey material. They were just casual, so nothing really mattered anyway.

Driven by an irresistible force, Lewis found himself standing up from his seat and striding confidently towards her. As he closed the distance between them, a symphony of emotions stirred within him - excitement, nerves, and vulnerability. He had conquered countless racetracks, but this was uncharted territory.

With each step, Lewis exuded swagger and cockiness. When he reached her side, interrupting her conversation with friends, he mustered all the confidence he had left and extended his hand towards her.

"I'm Lewis," he introduced himself with a charming grin. He watched as her big, brown eyes skimmed over his hand before meeting his gaze. She had an inscrutable expression on her stunning face, but he knew that his usual dazzling smile and flirty batting of eyelashes could make any woman melt at his feet. So surely, she wouldn't be any different, right?

"I couldn't give any fucks," she declared boldly before taking a long sip of her martini. "Isn't it rude to barge into someone's conversation?"

Well damn, excuse me, he thought, taken aback by her brazenness.

He nodded slowly, dropping his hand at his side and biting the inside of his cheek. For the first time in a while, he had met someone who wasn't swayed by his charm. And yet, there was something about her that made him crave her attention and approval. She maintained an air of nonchalance as their eyes locked in a silent standoff.

"My apologies," he responded with a playful smirk, breaking the tension. "Can we start over?"

She chuckled, surprised and intrigued by his audacity. On the other hand, her friends were wide-eyed and nudging her, probably trying to figure out who he was. But despite it all, Lewis couldn't help but admire her confidence and effortless grace. Placing a finger on her chin, she hummed for a moment as if considering his request.

Her voice was low and seductive as she replied, "Sure..." causing him to inwardly cheer. "But only if you buy me another drink."

"Deal," he said quickly, leaning against the bar beside her and signaling the bartender for another round of drinks. "What brings you here tonight?" He couldn't hide his curiosity, his genuine interest shining in his eyes.

She shrugged casually. "Just winding down after a long day at the office," she answered, finishing her martini with a satisfied sigh before setting the empty glass on the counter. "I don't usually frequent bars like this, but my coworkers insisted on celebrating a recent success."

Lewis nodded, mesmerized by the way her eyes danced with mischief when she spoke. He couldn't resist the urge to challenge her. "Well, I'm glad they did," he said smoothly,his thumb lightly caressing her exposed skin. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have had the chance to meet someone as beautiful as you."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his smooth talk. "You must be a real ladies' man," she remarked dryly.

Lewis chuckled. "I have my moments," he admitted with a smirk.

"I'll bet," she replied sarcastically. "So what do you do for a living?"

"I work with cars," Lewis responded casually, keeping his true job as a highly respected Formula One driver a secret, at least for now.

"Oh, a car guy," she said with a smirk of her own. "I guess that explains the cocky attitude."

Lewis couldn't help but laugh at her quick wit. He was intrigued by her and wanted to get to know her better. "What's your name?"

She glanced at him with a sly smile before answering, "Why don't you guess?"

"Hmm…" Lewis pretended to think for a moment before responding with a teasing tone. "Is it Angelina Jolie? Because you're definitely an angel."

She rolled her eyes playfully at his cheesy pick-up line but couldn't hide the small smile forming on her lips.

"Nope, not quite," she replied with a grin. "But nice try. My name is Aurora, but I go by Rorie."

"Rorie," he repeated in a deep voice. Although he was a cocky bastard, she couldn't deny that his British accent was incredibly sexy.

"Yeah," she said, glancing away to search for her friends. With his sexy voice and intense gaze, she felt herself melting, which was unusual because she never cracked under pressure. She quickly spotted her friends in a nearby booth and was about to gesture for them to come back over when he spoke again.

"A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman," he flirted, his hands leaving her forearm to lightly graze the side of her face – something that made her extremely uncomfortable.

"What the hell do you think you're doing—"

"Do you know what would make your name even more beautiful, Aurora?" he interrupted with a smug smile.

Amused, she rolled her eyes and asked, "What?"

"My last name attached to it."

Rorie's fame and influence were rapidly growing, captivating audiences all over the world. The media was obsessed with her, from interviewing her childhood friends to writing detailed pieces about her upbringing in Williamsport. It seemed like everyone couldn't get enough of her.

But with this level of attention came its own set of challenges for Rorie. She was constantly under a microscope, with every aspect of her life scrutinized and analyzed.

Despite their hectic schedules, Rorie and Lewis were determined to make their marriage and family work. However, with both of them immersed in their respective careers, worry crept into Rorie's mind.

Still, she couldn't contain her excitement as she awaited news from Yael about a potential partnership with Lancôme. After a successful meeting with the company, she eagerly waited for more details on the lucrative collaboration. Meanwhile, Lewis was preparing for his upcoming trip to England for the Silverstone race. He made sure to spend quality time with Rorie and Lyric before departing, knowing he would be away for some time.

As was their custom whenever he was home, Lewis and Rorie woke up early to go for a jog through the streets of Monaco. The sun was just starting to rise, casting a golden glow over the picturesque city. They ran side by side, taking in the beautiful views of the ocean and the luxurious yachts docked in the harbor. As they jogged, they talked about their plans for the day and caught up on each other's lives. Rorie couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness knowing that Lewis would soon be leaving for his race in England. She cherished these moments together and wished that they could spend more time as a family, but she also knew that Lewis's career was important to him and she didn't want to hold him back.

She supported him wholeheartedly, just as he did for her.

"You got it, move that ass!" Lewis cheered her on as they ran up a steep hill near their home. He playfully smacked her butt a few times, making her swat his hand away. "You always struggle with this hill, even though we've done it over a thousand times," he teased.

"Shut up," she replied, gasping for breath as she paused to wipe the sweat off her forehead. Staying in shape was important to her, but running up hills was her weakness. She placed her hands on her knees and bent over to catch her breath. Her braids, pulled back into a high ponytail, swung into her face.

"You okay, babe?" asked Lewis as he knelt beside her. Despite the sweat dripping down his face and darkening his gray muscle shirt, he still looked incredibly attractive. She couldn't help but give him a thorough once-over.

"I'm fine," she replied with a smirk. "But don't act like you're not enjoying the view as much as I am."

Lewis clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Here I am trying to check on you and you're already trying to flirt with me. Shameful." He leaned in for a quick kiss before helping her stand back up.

Rorie chuckled, the sound laced with a hint of seduction. "Well, baby," she began, her voice dropping to a sultry tone, "you're just too damn sexy for me not to try and flirt with you." She reached out and ran her fingers through the sweat-dampened hair at the nape of his neck, causing a shiver to ripple down his spine.

Lewis couldn't help but smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh really? And here I thought I was just being a concerned husband."

Rorie stepped closer, the heat between them palpable. "Concerned or not, I know what you're thinking," she whispered, her breath dancing across his lips. "You want me as much as I want you."

Unable to resist any longer, Lewis pulled her into a passionate kiss. Their lips melded together, their tongues dancing in harmony as their bodies pressed against each other. His hands trailed sensually along her curves.

Rorie moaned into his mouth, surrendering to the pleasure coursing through her body, and deepened the kiss, pressing herself even closer to him.

They had been married for four years, but their chemistry was still as intense and intoxicating as it was when they first met. Rorie couldn't help but feel grateful that she had found someone who not only loved and supported her but also lit a fire within her like no one else could.

As they reluctantly broke apart for air, Lewis rested his forehead against hers. "God, I love you," he breathed out.

"I love you too," Rorie replied with a smile.

"What the fuck?" Lewis's eyes flickered behind Rorie, causing her to turn around. "Look over there. Who is that?" Lewis's voice was tense as he pointed to a man near a parked car, taking photos of them.

Rorie tried to appear composed, and she squinted in an attempt to identify him, but all she could make out was a mass of unruly curls that seemed vaguely familiar. "I have no idea," she responded. "Maybe some strange paparazzo?"

"In our neighborhood, babe? When have you ever seen paparazzi? They shouldn't even be out here; it's illegal."

Lewis glanced back at the man, who was now walking away with his camera. "I don't like this," he muttered, pulling Rorie closer to him protectively.

"Me neither," Rorie agreed, her heart racing with unease. "Let's just go home and forget about it."

But as they made their way back to their house, Rorie couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. She kept looking over her shoulder nervously, but there was no sign of the paparazzi or anyone else.

Once they were safely inside their house, Lewis locked all the doors and windows before turning to Rorie with a concerned expression.

"Do you think someone is following us?" he asked, his voice serious.

"I don't know," Rorie replied with a shrug. "But let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe it was just a random guy trying to get some scandalous photos for money."

Lewis didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead, he pulled Rorie into a comforting hug.

"I'll always protect you, no matter what," he whispered into her ear.

Rorie smiled and snuggled closer to him. "I know you will."

But even as she tried to relax in his arms, her mind kept going back to the mysterious man with the camera. Who was he and why was he taking pictures of them? And more importantly, how did he even know where they lived?

Lewis seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and offered a solution. "I'll arrange for extra security at the house while I'm away."

"That would be great," she responded sincerely.

"Actually, why don't you and Lyric join me at Silverstone? It's a safe place, and my parents will also be there."

He gently held her face in his hands and gazed into her eyes with intensity. "And Kaiden and Willow will be there too. It's been too long since Lyric has seen his cousins."

Rorie rolled her eyes playfully. "It's only been two months."

"Exactly, that's too long."

Rorie hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. She trusted Lewis to keep her safe, and she didn't want to deprive Lyric of spending time with his cousins.

"Okay," she said finally. "We'll go."

Lewis grinned. "Thank you."

Rorie navigated through the busy crowds in the Silverstone paddock, where fans were eagerly anticipating the start of the British Grand Prix. The electric atmosphere was a testament to the prestige of this legendary track and its significance in the world of Formula One racing. For Lewis, Silverstone held special memories as the place where he had achieved some of his greatest victories, and she had no doubt he would continue to excel this weekend. This race was crucial for him - not just because it was his home Grand Prix, but also because he aimed to overtake Red Bull and claim P1.

She scanned the sea of helmets on the pit lane and felt a surge of pride as she spotted her husband's iconic helmet design, emblazoned with the number 44. She could see Lewis amidst the chaos, his muscled frame a stark contrast against the sea of mechanics, engineers, and crew members swarming around him. Despite the recent attention on their marriage, she knew that he would always be the same person she fell in love with - determined, passionate, and unwaveringly loyal.

"Mrs. Hamilton!" a lively voice with an Australian lilt chimed in singsong, causing her to shift her attention towards one of her other beloved drivers on the grid - Daniel Ricciardo; his toothy grin and bright brown eyes lighting up the room.

Rorie smiled and hugged him warmly. Her friendship with Daniel went beyond the racing world - they had bonded over their love for music and art, often exchanging playlists and art recommendations.

"How are you, Dan?" she asked as they pulled away from the embrace.

"Can't complain," he replied with a shrug. "How are you? How's my nephew?"

Rorie smiled at the mention of Lyric. "He's doing great, but he's getting to be a pain in my ass. He discovered the word 'no' last weekend so he's been using it quite often."

"Like father, like son," Daniel joked.

Rorie laughed and playfully swatted his arm. "Hey, Lewis is not that bad."

"Oh, I know," Daniel said with a smirk. "But it's always so much fun teasing you about it."

Rorie rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling at their banter. They chatted for a few more minutes before Lewis joined them, dressed in his racing suit and helmet in hand.

"Hey mate," Daniel greeted him with a pat on the back. "Feeling confident for your home race?"

Lewis grinned. "Always."

A swell of admiration coursed through Rorie as she observed her husband seamlessly interact with his fellow racers. Despite their fierce competition on the track, they all shared a deep bond off it - a quality she found endearing about the world of Formula One.

Lewis gave Rorie one last kiss before heading out onto the track for the race. The paparazzi went into a frenzy, their cameras flashing wildly to capture the moment between the famous race car driver and his stunning wife. Rorie then made her way to their private box overlooking the starting grid, where she would watch the race alongside Lewis's family. She greeted Lewis's father, Anthony, with a warm hug and kiss on the cheek before turning to his stepmother, Linda.

"Rorie dear, you look radiant," Linda gushed, grasping her hands in hers. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling great, thank you," Rorie replied with a smile. "Excited for the race."

Linda beamed. "I can't believe this is Lewis's home race. It feels like just yesterday he was just starting in karting."

Rorie nodded in agreement. "Time flies."

Their conversation was interrupted by the excited squeals of Kaiden and Willow as they ran up to them.

"Auntie Rorie!" Willow exclaimed, throwing herself into Rorie's arms for a hug.

Rorie chuckled and hugged her back tightly before ruffling Kaiden's hair.

"Hey there champ," she said with a wink.

Kaiden beamed up at her before running off to Lyric who was playing with his toy cars on the floor.

"You know they adore you," Linda commented with a smile as she watched the children play with Roscoe.

"I adore them too," Rorie replied sincerely.

Nicolas greeted his sister-in-law with a handshake, flashing a grin at her. "Hey sis," he said.

Rorie mirrored his gesture and replied, "Hey bro."

He chuckled. "You still remember our secret handshake, huh?"

"Of course," Rorie laughed. "It's one of those things you never forget."

Rorie settled into her seat next to Linda and Anthony, eagerly anticipating Lewis's race. The air was charged with excitement as the drivers revved their engines on the starting grid. As soon as the lights went out, they shot off down the track in a blur of speed and color.

"He's doing well so far," Anthony remarked, checking the live updates on his phone.

"Of course he is," Rorie replied proudly, her gaze fixed on Lewis's car as it weaved its way through the other racers.

The race was intense and nerve-wracking, but ultimately ended with Lewis securing a third-place finish. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as he crossed the finish line.

It wasn't the place everyone wanted for Lewis, especially at his home race, but at least he made podium. Rorie excused herself and made her way toward the pit lane, where the drivers were being interviewed by the media.

Amid the chaotic scene, Carmen, George's girlfriend, and Lily, Alex Albon's girlfriend, were engaged in conversation near the pit wall. When Rorie approached, Carmen's eyes lit up and she immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. Lily joined in as well, welcoming Rorie with a warm smile.

"Oh my gosh, it's been so long since we've seen you!" Carmen exclaimed with genuine excitement. "We have so much to catch up on!"

She hadn't seen Carmen and Lily in person since the Monaco Grand Prix.

"I know, it's been too long," Rorie replied, hugging them back. "How have you both been?"

"Busy as always," Lily replied with a laugh. "Alex has been training non-stop for this race."

Carmen nodded in agreement. "And George has been working hard too. It's been tough with all the changes in the regulations this season."

Rorie listened intently as they talked about their partners' racing careers and the challenges they faced in the sport.

"How about you?" Lily asked, turning to Rorie. "How's everything with Lewis going?"

Rorie smiled softly at the mention of Lewis. "Everything is great. He's doing well and I'm really proud of him."

"I can imagine," Carmen said with a smile. "I saw the pictures of you attending shows at Paris Fashion Week. You looked stunning."

"Thank you," Rorie responded modestly. "It was all my team. I was just wearing the clothes."

"Well, you were definitely wearing them, Ro," complimented Lily. "That dress for Jean Paul Gaultier is my personal fave."

The conversation then turned to their plans of meeting up for dinner and the possibility of planning a girls' trip. After saying goodbye to Carmen and Lily, Rorie went inside the Mercedes garage where Lewis was still busy debriefing with his engineers.

"Hey babe," Lewis greeted Rorie with a kiss on her cheek as soon as he saw her.

"Hey Pookie," Rorie replied with a grin. "You did amazing out there."

Lewis shrugged nonchalantly. "Could've done better."

Rorie rolled her eyes playfully at his competitive attitude before reminding him about their plans for the evening.

"Oh right, I almost forgot about dinner," Lewis said with a smile. "I'll be done in an hour or two then we can leave to get ready."

Tonight's occasion was not just any ordinary dinner; it was a pre-celebration of Lyric and Rorie's birthday next week with Lewis' family.

"Alright, sounds good."

As promised, an hour and a half later, Lewis emerged from the garage, ready to head back to their hotel.

The dinner was held at a fancy restaurant near Piccadilly Circus in London. As they made their way into the private dining room, Rorie was met with warm hugs and beaming smiles from Lewis' sisters Samantha and Nicola, as well as his mother, Carmen.

"Happy early birthday, babe!" Nicola exclaimed as she handed Rorie a beautifully wrapped package.

Rorie's face lit up with surprise and gratitude as she opened the gift to a personalized photo album filled with memories from their past vacations and family gatherings. Rorie flipped through the pages of the photo album, and she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. Every photo captured a special memory, from their trip to Greece where Lewis proposed to her to their recent family trip to Bali. She couldn't believe how much her life had changed since meeting Lewis.

"Thank you so much," Rorie said, wiping a tear from her eye.

"We had so much fun putting this together," Carmen replied with a smile. "It's not every day that my son meets someone as amazing as you."

Rorie's cheeks warmed at the compliment and hugged Carmen tightly. She was grateful to have such a supportive second family in Lewis' family.

The rest of the night was spent catching up and enjoying each other's company over delicious food and drinks.

Anthony and Linda surprised Lyric with an electric toddler car, causing Lewis to burst into laughter.

"Dad, what is this?" he exclaimed between chuckles as he watched his father place Lyric into the miniature car. "No way! Are you serious?"

Anthony's expression remained serious. "Why are you laughing? I'm just trying to get him ready," he replied, turning to his grandson. "A few more years and we'll have you racing on a track, Lyric."

Lyric babbled out a reply, his small hands fiddling with the steering wheel.

"He can barely talk and you've got my son driving for Merc?" Lewis chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval at his father. "What if he wants to be a footballer or something?"

"Pfft." Anthony gave him a dismissive wave, his fingers already moving deftly over the car's controller. "No way, he's going into the family business."

Rorie and Lewis exchanged a meaningful look, both knowing what the other was thinking. He wanted Lyric to have nothing to do with Formula One, and he knew how passionate his father could get. They had talked about it before, but Lewis was hesitant to bring it up with his father, especially in front of everyone, yet he realized that he had to have that conversation soon.

The low hum of the car's engine filled the air, distracting them both, and Lyric's little fingers held the wheel with determination as the vehicle started to move.

Lewis couldn't help but feel pride as he watched his son confidently sit in the car. "He's a natural," Lewis remarked with a smile.

"Of course, he is," Anthony interjected, "after all, he's a Hamilton."

Rorie and Lewis set off on a short getaway to Ibiza, basking in the warmth of the tropical sun with a group of friends. The island welcomed them with open arms, its crystal clear waters sparkling in the light. They spent their days lounging on a luxurious yacht and their nights engulfed in music, dancing, and laughter.

Amidst the joyful celebration, Rorie received the incredible news from Yael that Lancome had selected her as their newest brand ambassador. As if that wasn't enough, Bustle magazine also reached out for an exclusive interview with her.

But just when she thought things couldn't get any better, it was time for her 30th birthday bash. To celebrate this special milestone, Lewis organized a lavish party at a trendy rooftop bar in London. Rorie's close friends and family, including her mother and sisters, were all in attendance.

As the elevator doors opened to the rooftop bar, Rorie was greeted with an incredible view of the London skyline.

"Happy birthday, my love," Lewis whispered into her ear, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek as they entered the venue.

Rorie's smile stretched from ear to ear as she looked around the room. The party was adorned with an array of flowers and colorful balloons. As she mingled through the well-dressed crowd, Rorie was greeted with numerous hugs and congratulatory messages from her friends and family. She couldn't contain her happiness as she took in the beautiful setting - this was a night that would be etched in her memory forever.

Hailey Bieber approached Rorie with her shining eyes, a deep sense of happiness gleaming from her face. She hugged Rorie tightly, whispering, "Happy birthday, Rorie! You deserve all this success and happiness, and I'm so proud of you!"

Rorie stepped back from the hug, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. "Thank you, Hailey," she said with a grateful smile. "You've always been there for me, through thick and thin."

Hailey returned the smile, placing a hand on Rorie's shoulder. "That's what friends are for. And we will continue to support you every step of the way."

After enjoying a delicious meal and drinks, it was time for Lewis to give a speech. He stood up in front of their loved ones and spoke about their journey together – from maintaining a long-distance relationship to building a life together. Rorie couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with emotion as Lewis openly expressed his love for her.

"And now," he concluded, "we stand here today celebrating Rorie's 30th birthday – a milestone that she will undoubtedly conquer with grace and style."

With a twinkle in his eye, Lewis came closer to Rorie, holding a small box wrapped in shiny silver paper. She eagerly took the box from him, her fingers tracing the delicate ribbon tied around it.

"What is it?" She asked, filled with excitement.

"Open it and find out," Lewis said with a grin.

Trembling with anticipation, Rorie untied the satin ribbon and slowly lifted the lid. Inside lay the keys to a brand-new G Wagon – something she had been dreaming of for months.

"Oh my god, Lewis!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "How did you manage this?"

He laughed, hugging her tightly. "Let's just say I have some connections."

Rorie pulled back to look at him in awe. "I can't believe this is real."

"It's all yours," Lewis said, kissing her forehead.

Rorie couldn't contain her happiness as she hugged him again. This truly was the best birthday ever. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers as Lewis directed Rorie to look over the railing, where her G-Wagon was parked with a big red bow on top.

"No fuckin' way! I love you so much, baby!"

Her husband chuckled. "I love you too."

The rest of the night was a blur of laughter, dancing, and celebrating with loved ones. Rorie couldn't stop smiling as she took endless pictures with her new car, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.

The party had ended, and Rorie and Lewis said their goodbyes to the guests before heading back to their hotel room. They slipped into bed together, the soft glow of the moon shining through the curtains. As they cuddled under the warm blankets, reflecting on their wonderful memories, their son Lyric slept peacefully in between them.

"I can't believe I'm thirty years old," Rorie whispered, gazing up at the ceiling.

"And you don't look a day over twenty-two," he commented with a mischievous grin.

Rorie turned to face him, caressing his cheek with her hand. "You know, you've given me the best gift today – not just the car, but your love and support throughout all these years. I feel so lucky to have you as my husband."

Lewis smiled and wrapped his arms tighter around her. "I will always support you and be by your side, no matter what."

He leaned in for a kiss, but Lyric stirred in his sleep. They both laughed softly before settling back down.

"I can't wait to see what the next 30 years hold for me," Rorie said dreamily.

Lewis intertwined their fingers together and placed them over Lyric's chest. "Whatever comes our way, I know we'll conquer it together."

Lewis stirred in his sleep, feeling a pleasurable sensation in his lower extremities. He was in a daze, barely conscious of what was happening until he slowly opened his eyes and lifted the comforter. To his surprise, he discovered Rorie with his penis in her mouth.

Rorie looked up at him with a mischievous grin, her lips swollen from her ministrations. "Good morning, baby," she purred before taking him back into her mouth.

Lewis moaned softly, his hands tangling in her hair as she worked her magic. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. This was definitely not how he expected to start his day, but he wasn't complaining one bit. He let himself fully wake up and enjoy the sensation of her warm mouth on him.

Rorie loved the way his hands gripped her hair as his hips bucked against her. She had always enjoyed sucking him off, but this morning felt different – more intense, more passionate.

A low groan escaped Lewis' lips as he came hard into Rorie's mouth. She eagerly swallowed every drop, her tongue teasing him until he was gasping for air.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed out, his body still tingling from the intense orgasm.

Rorie crawled up to kiss him, her lips tasting of him. Lewis couldn't help but pull her closer, their bodies pressing together as they kissed deeply.

"I don't think I've ever had such a good wake-up call," he chuckled against her lips.

Rorie grinned and nipped at his bottom lip. "I aim to please."

"I should have bought you that G-Wagon sooner," he teased. "Who knew that a car would turn you into a lil' freak? I'll get you anything you want if this is the consequence."

"Anything?" she asked curiously.

"Yes," he replied, determinedly.

"Then give me another baby," she surprised him with her request.

They had just celebrated Lyric's first birthday in Monaco with a small gathering of loved ones and friends a few days ago, and now she wanted to start trying for a second. Lewis didn't object; he would be overjoyed to see her pregnant again. With their son being taken care of by Nina back home while they were at the Hungarian Grand Prix this week, it was the perfect time for them to try for another child.

"Are you serious?" he asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

Rorie nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "I've been thinking about it for a while now, since Paris."

"I can't believe this," Lewis exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. "You've made me the happiest man in the world."

"Well, don't get too ahead of yourself," Rorie laughed. "It might take some time for us to get pregnant again."

"I don't care," Lewis said firmly. "I'll wait as long as I have to, especially since I can fuck you exactly how I want."

"And that entails?" she asked breathlessly, her body already trembling with desire.

"Bending you over every surface," he whispered, causing her to shiver at his words. "Filling you up so much that my cum leaks down your leg. Making you nice and sore, fucking that tight pussy to shreds."

His lips found the sweet spot on her throat and sucked gently, making Rorie moan. She could feel herself getting wetter by the second, the anticipation of what was to come almost unbearable.

"How long before you have to go to quali?" she managed to ask, her voice slightly shaky.

"I have an hour," he replied with a wide smile, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "Why? You want to go on a lil' ride of your own?"

Rorie couldn't help but giggle at his playful tone, despite the intense desire coursing through her veins. She nodded eagerly and let him lead her to straddle his hips, her knees digging into the soft mattress. His hands immediately went to grip her waist as she slowly lowered herself onto him, a moan escaping both their lips as they were fully connected.

Lewis leaned back against the headboard, his eyes locked on Rorie's as he lifted her up and down on his manhood. He wanted to savor every moment with his wife before they had to leave for qualifying and he ran his hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of skin that was exposed to him.

Gripping her hips tighter, he guided her movements as she rode him harder and faster. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through both of their bodies, their moans growing louder with each passing second.

"Fuck," Lewis cursed under his breath, his fingers digging into Rorie's hips as her walls tightened around him. "I love this pussy so much, baby."

"It's all yours, Sir," she moaned heavenwards as she met him thrust for thrust.

"Say that shit again, baby. Who's pussy is this?"

"Yours, Sir!" She leaned in closer, pressing her hands against Lewis' chest as she picked up speed.

He gave her a playful slap on her ass. "That's what I like to hear."

Rorie was lost in a sea of ecstasy, her mind consumed by the feeling of being utterly owned by her husband, as their bodies moved in perfect harmony, their breaths coming out in ragged gasps as they chased their release. Lewis could feel the familiar tightening in his balls and he knew he was about to come undone. He reached between them and rubbed circles on Rorie's clit, wanting to bring her over the edge with him.

"Oh god," she cried out as he hit just the right spot.

Lewis felt himself explode inside her, his body shaking uncontrollably as he came hard. Rorie followed suit seconds later, collapsing against his chest, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm they had just shared. She felt his heart beating rapidly against hers and couldn't help but smile at the thought that she was the cause of it.

Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before sliding out of her, causing a small whimper to escape Rorie's lips. They lay there in silence for a few moments, savoring the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"That was amazing," Rorie finally broke the silence, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"It always is with you," Lewis replied, running his fingers through her hair. "But we should probably get ready for qualifying."

Rorie sighed, not wanting to break the intimate bubble they were in but knowing that Lewis was right. He had an important race coming up and needed to focus.

They got up from bed and quickly got dressed, both of them still stealing glances at each other as they moved around the room. Rorie couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with her husband amidst his hectic racing schedule.

Rorie and Lewis strode onto the paddock together, causing a frenzy among fans and media alike. A stranger watched them closely from only a few feet away. For the past few weeks, he had been keeping a close eye on them, ever since a representative from The Sun called him with mysterious instructions to do so.

He answered his phone again, interrupting his watchful surveillance. "Hello?"

"Any updates?" the voice on the other end asked.

"No, I'm still digging," he replied, glancing back at Rorie and Lewis as they walked arm in arm towards the Mercedes garage.

"Well, keep me updated. We can't afford any mistakes this time, and try not to get caught. We're still cleaning up the mess from Monaco."

The stranger hung up and turned back towards the couple. He reached for his camera and discreetly took a snapshot of them before blending back into the bustling crowd.

TO BE CONTINUED.......

#sir lewis hamilton #emjayewrites #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton x black!reader #social media au #private landing #lewis hamilton x rorie hamilton #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x black!reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfiction

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farfromstrange · 8 months

Text

Lizzi's Kinktober 2023

Day 13: Roleplay

October 28th, 2023

Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You and Matt sneak into the church for a little roleplay.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ MINORS DNI), religious imagery, blasphemy (like, this is blasphemous beyond compare), blowjob in a church, mentions of oral afab!receiving, mentions of body worship, roleplay (Matt plays a priest), hair pulling, face-fucking, wrong use of a confessional booth

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/n: I... I need holy water.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned…”

This is wrong. This is so wrong. But if it’s wrong, why does it feel so right?

It is filthy, perhaps even perverted, but you can’t help it.

You are doomed.

He is the apple and the snake that compelled Eve to break the most important rule in the Garden of Eden. He is the forbidden fruit and the devil himself. You weren’t supposed to have a bite of him, and still, you did because he was so convincing. He drew you in from the first word spoken between you. He compelled you to take the apple, and now you are doomed.

Matt is sitting in the confessional booth. There is not a single soul in sight other than your doomed person, on your knees in front of him. He doesn’t need the robe to appear like a priest. He’s dressed in all black, and his demeanor reminds you of the men you have so often seen giving sermons on TV.

What you are doing should guarantee you a place in hell, but right now, you couldn’t care less.

“What do you need to ask forgiveness for?” he asks you.

His hand rests on the back of your head, keeping your head close to his clothed crotch.

You swallow. The rain outside is hitting the church windows. You broke in, which is a crime, but kneeling before the man you love and asking for forgiveness is not. It can’t be.

You are not religious, far from it, and he is the only person in the world that could give you the salvation you need. It isn’t wrong, it is just right. And if you get caught, at least you had a good time.

His cock is straining against his very thin dress pants. This is his fantasy as much as it is yours, maybe even more so. You know he is ridden with guilt, but right now, he is blooming in his new role. There is no way you two would ever leave before he hasn’t finished what he started.

The floor is cold under your knees. They must be bruised by now, but you manage to tune out the pain. That is part of it. Part of life. Part of existence. And it is part of atoning for your sins.

“I have been a bad, bad girl,” you whisper into the dead of the night.

Matt shifts a bit. “How so?” he asks.

“I’ve been having… thoughts. About a man of God.”

“What kind of thoughts?” With every word, his voice grows thicker.

You blink through the fog of your arousal. “I’ve been thinking about him touching me,” you say.

Your eyelids flutter. You look so innocent, and he can’t even see you. Only with his fingers on your face does he get an idea of what your features might look like right now. And you are hungry. Hungry for him. Hungry for more.

“I’ve been thinking about touching him–” Your palms rub his muscular thighs, “Touching him in places I should not think about touching a man of God.”

You can hear him suck in a sharp breath in the darkness of the booth. He shifts again. “And do you think God would forgive you for something like that?” he says. “Wanting a man of God to fuck you senseless? To touch you? To touch him?”

“I’m not sure,” you answer.

“Have you been thinking about him in church?”

“Yes.”

What terrifies you most about this is that if he were a priest, a real priest with a robe and responsibilities, you would still think about him bending you over the altar and worshipping you. You would dream about him taking you to the confessional booth, forcing you to atone for your sins. You would dream about his hands around your neck, choking you to the point you get dizzy, and repeatedly calling you a bad girl. Because that is what you are.

“You really have been bad,” Matt murmurs. He caresses the back of your head. “Luckily, your God is forgiving.”

You blink up at him. “He is?” you ask.

“Yeah. If you are willing to repent for your sins.”

When he shifts this time, his free hand goes to his belt. He unbuckles it, letting the leather fall to the floor. You don’t move. Not even when he opens the button, then his zipper, and then reaches into his boxers to take out his hard cock.

You drool, but you don’t move. It just so happens that the moon shines through the small window and shines a light on him in all his glory, with his cock out and his cheeks flushed.

Matt Murdock is an ethereal sight you can never get enough of, even when he is pretending to be a priest. For him, you will be as bad as you can be. You have no choice. You want to be.

“What’s my sentence, Father?” your voice is barely above a whisper.

He takes his cock into his hand, giving it a few pumps before pulling your head closer. A moment of deafening silence follows. Thunder rumbles. The rain reminds you of the pool in your underwear, making it hard to stay still.

Matt lets out a shaky breath as he guides his cock to your lips. “Open,” he says. His voice wavers slightly.

You do as you’re told, but you look up at him, still awaiting an answer.

A smile finds its way to his lips, and it is as dark as the booth itself. He opens his mouth again. “Atone,” he says.

And in an instant, he has fucked his cock down your throat.

You choke around his girth. Tears spring to your eyes. The head meets the back of your throat, and you gag, but you don’t force him away. You keep your hands on his thighs and your head bowed low, and you let him fuck your mouth like there is no tomorrow.

He asked you to atone. To be forgiven for your sins, you need to do this. You are his to play with. You are his to own. Right now, at least. Right now, that is all you want to be. His fucktoy. His means to get rid of pent-up frustration. His way of living out his darkest fantasies.

You are so wet, you pray to God that you don’t leave a stain on the floor. But does it matter? He will fuck you over the altar later. He will spread your legs and bury his head between your thighs. He will let you pull his hair and fuck his mouth the same way he is doing to you because that is his way of repenting. Then it is his turn to atone, when he is no longer the priest but the disciple, and you are his goddess that he prays to.

“Hail, Mary, full of grace,” Matt chokes out between heavy thrusts into the tight confines of your mouth. He can’t even hear anything but the sound of yours and his breathing, and his needy moans that fill the air. “The Lord is with thee,” he continues, but he is having a hard time forming the words.

You have heard him pray before but during sex? While he is fucking your mouth like a madman? That is new. It makes your pussy clench around thin air, and your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs. The pain only makes him moan louder. It is heaven to your ears.

“Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb–” He grits his teeth. “Jesus!”

You gag again, his cock now forced even deeper. You can’t breathe, not even through your nose. The lack of oxygen is making you feel all kinds of things, but certainly none of them bad.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners,” he says, “Now and at the hour of our death.”

He thrusts and he thrusts, and with a harsh pull on your hair, he forces you off his cock. “Amen,” he almost cries out as his balls tighten, and he comes all over your face.

There is not an inch that is not covered by his seed, by the very essence of him. His cum slithers down your throat toward your breasts.

Another rumble of thunder strikes the church. The clock strikes midnight.

You look up at him through hooded eyes. He’s panting, his chest heaving, but for the first time in weeks, he looks content.

“Amen,” you whisper back.

So, you have finally atoned, and now, it is his turn.

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @ravenclaw617 @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch

Also tagging: @blackshadowswriter @1988-fiend

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock imagines #smut #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #roleplay #charlie cox #lizzi writes #x reader

117 notes · View notes

smuttyaf · 7 months

Text

SouthSide Serpent

Word Count: 4.8k

Rating: R

features; childhood friends to lovers, loverboy ashton, literally ashton has been pining for y/n, & sum good old smut :)

a/n: idek what to say but hi! i’ve been in retirement for like 4 years and rediscovered this account. i got nostalgic & decided… shit why not write again?

please cut me sum slack tho! i wrote this on my notes app & it’s been years since i’ve written so i would love to hear feedback!

& yes i am hella descriptive and like to build suspense! i can’t help it >.<

also! y/n is heavily based on serena from mtv downtown ( i love her ) & this picture of ashton ( xx )

The crisp October breeze blew through your hair as the dull taste of your cigarette burns on your tongue; your forefinger and middle finger clenching the nicotine filled paper and pressing it against your lips, drawing in the vapour.

Your head nods along to the music playing before you just two doors down on the opposite side of your street. There was Ashton and his band, either playing covers of their current favourite songs, oldies, or new ones that they’ve all come together and created.

The usual guitar flow and drum beat of Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs blasted through the speakers in the garage as the sound of Luke’s voice sang along on top of the tune.

You hum along to the lyrics as you glared in the direction, your lips peeling away from the filter and letting the smoke settle in your lungs before releasing it. The four boys were all dressed in their usual attire: white shirt, black trousers, beat up old chunky Doc Martins, and their signature SouthSide Serpents leather jackets.

As the wind picks up again you let your free hand tear away from your windowsill and tug the flying strays of your hair in front of your face behind your ear, the chipped black polish on your almond nails coming into view as you remind yourself you needed to get them done.

The bridge of the song is now blaring down the street, causing you to raise your cigarette back to your lips and think to yourself, what a coincidence this song is playing; the lyrics, the time frame, and the memories that all come flowing back as you hear the familiar melody.

It was 2009 and Ashton had invited you over during Christmas break to play Garage Band since Santa gifted it to him because that was the only thing he asked for on his wish list. You were both 8, banging on the drums and singing songs that you both were too young to know or remember from when your parents would play them on the drive home from school. But, for some reason this is the song that stuck with you both the most. Maybe it was the easy lyrics or the amazing beat but from then on it had you hooked to this alternative sound.

Now fast forward to a year ago, your now ex boyfriend Xavier was laying on your bed, finger pads heavy weight on your skin as he drew sloppy hearts on your hip. The wire of the headphones tangled between your shoulder and his wrist as you both listened to his playlist. The familiar intro notes to the song beginning to ring throughout the buds and the tug of your maroon lined lips turn into a smile.

“Already like the song?” He asked, brown eyes rested on top of dark circles scattered with freckles as he smirked down at you.

“I love it.” You sheepishly said.

The wind knocks you back into reality as it pushes through your window again, only making you remember how much you loved October; the weather changing, leaves blooming, smell of the rain just before it hit the concrete, the sound of the leaves dragging along the pavement, and the endless horror movie marathons that would run on AMC.

The orange, brown, and green leaves spin in the breeze and rustle along the branches as the sun stood brightly among the houses along the horizon. From your view on the windowsill you can see houses upon houses before you see the local water tower and old plazas that scream they need new merchant signs and fresh cement.

Your eyes flick to the lonesome string popping out of your black long sleeve before the sound of your phone’s text tone goes off, your eyes darting to the message running across the screen.

Stop watching me

Ashton’s text read, making you roll your eyes before placing them on the dark hair boy who had a goofy grin on his face from your view, his drum sticks were stuffed in one had and the other held his lit up phone.

With a smile on yours, you let the hand that rested in the crook of your neck tear away from the warm flesh and your middle finger stand in the air as a response.

Clothes were thrown in every direction of your room as you let your eyes drag along your frame in the mirror, your loose knitted black sweater hung off one of your shoulders as low waisted charcoal jogging pants rested on your hips. Your hair was in its loose waves as your curtain bangs swept against your temples, your fingers curling into themselves in frustration as you tried to not stress over how you look.

You didn’t want to over enhance your appearance to see Xavier since he wanted to meet up to get “closure” -even though he was the one who called it off despite your many pleas- but you wanted to make him feel bad for even deciding to drop you.

A frustrated sigh left your wine stained lips before turning around and sticking your feet into your ruined Converse. The low muffled sound of Xavier’s Prelude is heard out your window and you feel your heart drop.

You never understood why you always felt this way about him and why you couldn’t just get over this stupid boy who likes to break up with you every other month, a new reason every single time. The constant tears, text threads, and blocking to unblocking seemed to never get exhausting to you because you were always back in the same place, wondering if you overdressed to see your ex for closure.

The chime of Xavier’s specific text tone rings through your room and you already know what it says, so without checking you twisted your foot into your shoe to fit perfectly before you reach over and grasp your phone in your hand and tug your way to the window sill. Fingers pressing the frame up and letting the fall air sweep into your room before crouching down and fitting yourself through the frame and safely scale down the roof, onto the sturdy vine wall filled with dead clematis that prickled on your palms the way down before your feet landed on the short cut grass.

As you turned away from the wall and begin tugging your feet towards the black coupe, your eyes catch on the tall frame standing on their front step as an amber light glows slightly illuminating his face. You already know this is Ashton, so with a slight smile you let your index finger rest against your coated lips, a gesture to him to be quiet.

The only response he gives is his head nodding off to the side with smoke trailing out of his mouth.

The smile quickly falls as your fingers clench the car door handle and tug it open, the smell of him crashing down on you as you sit in the familiar leather, the hum of the engine vibrating under you as the car peels off.

The tinge of tequila burned on your buds as you felt the room spinning, the sound of chatter and shouts are heard from below you as the bass of Destroy Lonely’s song can be heard in the room you barged into when you gave up on waiting for Tabitha; who said she wouldn’t be long with the curly haired new kid in her history class.

Red solo cup was loosely clenched in your right hand as left was lazily running through your hair at random moments as you laid against the cottage floral bed sheets.

Here you were, back in the same spot you always found yourself in: drunk, heartbroken, and thinking about a boy who doesn’t even care about you. The constant routine of wanting him, then wanting to be far away but craving him every other second burned into your heart. The comfort and familiarity of him that you missed always overlooked every excuse he gave you whenever he broke things off.

Last month he said he needed time to himself, this month he told you that he was confused and didn’t know what he wanted; frankly he lost feelings for you, at least that was what he says now. Those words kept on replaying in your mind as if that was your favourite song. The way he sounded emotionless yet unsure that, that was what he really wanted.

And just with those thoughts, tears were flowing down your temples. Eyes blurring as the voice replayed in your head, the memory of him sitting beside you and saying that, to then recollect memories of how sweet and endearing the boy you loved in the beginning grew cold to your touch and looked into your hopeful eyes with detached ones.

The popcorn ceiling was fuzzy in your sight as the tears spill over your waterline and beads down the sides of your face. You already knew your cheeks were heated up, the liner and eyeshadow that was occupying your bottom lashes was smudged and probably slipping away with the liquid as a sniffle wrinkled through your nose.

God you hated this; the empty feeling of missing someone who you know you shouldn’t want but yet crave so badly. Why him? Why you?

As you were deep in thought you hear the rustle of the door knob before it turns and the music that pours from outside reaches into the empty depths of the room, the sound of footsteps halting and a sharp intake of breath being heard, but you don’t dare look away at the ceiling. Frankly, you could care less about who sees you crying your eyes out on this outdated duvet with ruined make up.

“Fuck my bad!… Wait Y/N?” The recognizable voice of your childhood friend is heard before the door is closing shut.

The weight of him sinks next to you on the bed as you let your eyes close and the final stream of tears leave your eyes.

“I look desperate don’t I.” You state, voice raspy from the strain in your throat as the usual feeling of a ball is formed.

“I think you look sad,” He points out, making you snort as the hand that was lazily playing in your hair tears away and feels the sheet below you.

“No shit,” You mumble before letting your eyes peel open.

“You and Xavier broke up again?” Ashton questions, the sound of his zippers clashing from his jacket as he shuffles around.

You only hum in response before you let both of your arms sit you up on the bed, your back standing straight as your hands cradle the solo cup. Your eyes stare down at your ruined pantyhose beneath your mini lace black skirt before they flicker to look at the hazel boy.

Eyes connecting with yours, you hear his breath hitch as he draws in your appearance. Cheeks with a glow of cherry red sweeping the bones under your eyes that are damp with black eyeshadow, your eyes were still puffy and red rimmed as they batted slowly up at him.

“He doesn’t know what he wants,” You let out, your eyes rolling before letting your plum coloured lips take a sip of the warm mixture of Pepsi and tequila.

“Oh?” He says in confusion, bushy eyebrows coming together trying to figure out how that could be since he saw you two together three nights ago.

“I’m so sick of being with these screwed up guys all the time,” You state, hand tearing away from the cup to dig your nails into the rips of your stockings.

“Really?”

“I have such crummy luck or taste? What is it with girls like me? All a guy has to say is, he can’t express his feelings or he listens to Deftones and it’s like my head tips right over and my brain start to slip out of my ear.”

Ashton lets out laugh, the beer bottle he’s holding by the neck resting on his knee as he stares down at you. “So which one is Xavier?”

“Both,” You scoff while sticking out your tongue in disgust.

“You know… if you wanted to, I’m sure you could have a different great guy to go out with every night,” Ashton assures, a smirk tugging on your lips as you decide to ignore the glint of promise in his eyes.

“No way, I’ve always been a mess. Remember Cleo?” Your second boyfriend that seemed to be stuck on your hip but ironically found someway to cheat on you every weekend yet you still dumbly went back to him every. single. time.

The feeling of your sheer button up rubs against your arm as you let your hand fall against your hip and feel your black crop top tight to your skin.

“Maybe you just need to talk to someone who isn’t your usual type,” Ashton points out. Your head nods a few beats as your thick wedged heeled boots run over the wooden flooring.

“Maybe I’ll be luckier if I tried dating someone nice for a change,” Voice hopeful as your eyes dart away from the bubbly dark liquid into Ashton’s brown hues.

“Nice guys,” Ashton says with a smile, both of his hands tearing away from his knees as if to gesture to himself in this equation.

A laugh escapes your lips before your eyes run over Ashton’s frame from head to toe.

“What are you getting at Irwin?” You say with a pointed brow, playing stupid to the implication.

“Oh nothing..” He sings while tearing his eyes from yours, toothy smile still spread on his lips before he takes a swing of his beer.

You shake your head with annoyance before your hazy eyes look down at your lap, your hands resting on the cup and drumming a random tune.

“Honestly Y/N… I think you’re a really great girl and…. I just think maybe…” His words a scrambled mess and trailing off. You smile to yourself before turning to look back at him.

“Mm?” You question, the fifteen percent liquor coursing through your bloodstream and giving you confidence as you lean into this chest, eyes never tearing away from his. Because if Ashton was going to give you hopeful eyes and stuttering speeches you might as well put the ‘nice guy’ to the test and see if he was really about what he said.

That only made his lips break into a smirk, his tongue sneakily gladding along his bottom lip to wet it before looking into you daringly.

That only made you squish your plucked eyebrows together in question. How did the stuttering boy from just a view seconds ago all of a sudden turn cocky and confident? How many drinks did he have? Or was it the weed that clung to his jacket that gave him the boost.

“I think you should give me a chance,” He nips back, and before you can even respond to him, you watch his neck crane down and press his lips against yours.

The crisp taste of his beer stung your lips as they opened and immediately danced along with his tongue. White liquor and brown meeting together to taste each other and leave an acquired flavour in your mouths.

You hummed along to the feeling of his tongue circling against yours before peeling away and molding your lips to sink against each other. Your heart was beating through your chest, nails now digging into your plastic cup and head ducked back as you continue to press your mouth against his.

The feeling of his cold hand pressing against your neck caused you to shudder and tear away from his lips for a second, your eyes peeling open as they look in front of you. Black hair loosely falling on his forehead, the smell of his husky cologne clogging your senses, and the feeling of his fingers now dancing along the back of your neck.

“What are we doing Ash?” You breathe against his lips.

“Something that I’ve always wanted to do,” He says, making your heart launch. You bite down on your bruised lip and tear your eyes away from his, your stomach twist as you try and gain some self control as you almost fling yourself on top of him.

Something that he always wanted to do? You never really found yourself desirable to the point we’re men would see you in that type of light? But maybe what Ash said was just a simple lie, just so he can get what he wants and frankly you don’t even care. You’ve heard lies your whole entire life when it came to boys and this wasn’t any different, maybe you should just let your mind shut off from your stupid ex and just be in the moment for once.

So with that final thought, not having a care in the world, you drop the red cup in your hand and let your lips launch back onto his. Ashton follows your movements and the sound of the nearly empty beer bottle drops onto the hard wood, his right hand now resting along your neck as you both kiss each other.

Warm breaths, beating hearts and the sound of music is the only thing heard in the room as you lick into each others mouths. Soon you feel the weight of Ashton nudging you to lay back on the bed as he lies on top, you feel the cold zippers from his jacket press against your skin and all you can do is moan.

The feeling of his left hand tears away from the hairs on the nape of your neck and dance down your collar bone before letting it cup your breast in his hand, kneading the soft tissue which only makes another moan slip through you.

He pulls away from your lips and begins to suck and press kisses along your pulse, your hands that lie by your side now running up the sleeves of his jacket and into his hair.

A whimper spills out as you feel his hand tug your tank down and free your naked breast, he engulfs it in his cold palm making you let a shaky breath escape before you’re curling your fingers in his hair, the feeling of him twisting your nipple makes you bite down on your bottom lip. The pleasurable pain you feel running up your spine making your shoulders slightly buck off the bed.

“Hmm…” Ashton hums in your neck before tearing away, his eyes once such a light brown and green hue, now a chestnut and forest green colour filled with lust.

Your fingers tug away from his hair as he now descends down your body, his warm lips pressing kisses to your exposed skin as you let your hands tear your blouse and tank off. Your eyes never leaving his as he watches you undress. His lips now press against your pieced belly button as his fingers tear away from your chest and roughly takes your skirt by the band and peels it down your hips, your stockings following soon after.

Not wasting a moment he lets his mouth press against you covered core, lips pressing small kisses against your heat making you quietly moan. You wanted so desperately to tug Ashton into you and make him start devouring you right there but instead you let your hands trail back into his hair and play around with his locks.

Small kisses soon turn into open mouth licks, his wet muscle running up and down your clothed slit that it had your head digging back into the sheets, your legs spreading wider and whimpers endlessly trailing out.

“Ash.. please..” The words slip out so quiet that you assume he didn’t hear from the pulsing music below you, but instead your met with the feeling of his finger pulling your panties to the side and his tongue finally meeting you were you desired.

It circles around your clit gently before you feel his lips suck it into his mouth, a moan drawls from your throat due to the sensation. Soon enough, he’s letting his mouth discover the way you taste which only elects a moan from him. His tongue now dipping in between your two lips and curling around your insides.

“Oh my,” You moan as your fingers dig into his hair, eyes closing shut as you begin to slowly move your hips to the movement of his tongue.

The feeling of his right hand breaks away from your thigh and flows to your hips, his nails leaving small indents as you feel his other hand move away from your panty and rub against your clit.

The feeling of him humming against you sends a vibrating pleasure down your back as he continues to lick you, this only made your toes curl and your hands to fall out of his hair and onto his leather shoulders.

“Fuck,” You moan, your hands tugging him gently away from you as you feel your climax about to overcome your nerves.

And just as you feel it on the tip of your toes, the mouth between your legs pulls away beginning to press wet kisses up your thigh, his hand that once laid against your heat now meeting with the other at your hips.

A groan leaves you as your eyes tear open and look down at him. He mischievously looks up at you, his kisses now run up your stomach once again to lead to your neck.

“Upset?” He teases, only making you shudder at the rasp in his voice.

“I want you Ash,” You say breathlessly, turning your head to knock his out the way and look him in the eyes. “Please,” You utter, fingers now leaving his shoulders and brushing against his rip cage covered by his white tee.

Without any hesitation, Ashton is pulling away from your embrace and leaning back. He shrugs off his jacket, tugs his shirt over his head, his fingers going to the back of his baggy jeans to pull out his wallet to dig through before you see a gold package flash. If your cheeks could burn any brighter they differently would.

The mixture of his clothes and yours are strung through out the room, both of your shoes kicked to the bottom of the bed as he now shuffles his way back up to his original position.

Without question your hand meets the band of his boxers as you begin to inch them down his waist, wanting to return the favour.

“I think that can wait love, I rather be in you right now,” He breathes against your neck, only making your heart stutter. A sheepish smile tugs at your lips as you feel him twist around and lay on his side, his hands laying on your hips, turning you into the same position.

Your head rested on his arm as your back laid against his chest, hips aligned with each other as the feeling of his smell overcomes you. His knees prop up your legs as you hear the tearing of the condom package.

Deciding to distract yourself you let your eyes fall looking at Ashton. His black hair a tossed mess from your fingers, hazel eyes drawn to wear you both meet as he begins to run his member against your heat.

A whimper leaves your lips as you close your eyes when you feel him push inside, his hand now propping up your thigh as he eases into you.

He nudges your head forward and begins sucking kisses down the expanse of your neck, the feeling of his heart beating against your back and the smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne was filling your nose.

“Feels so good,” He mumbles against your skin, his arm that rested under your head turning slightly as he runs his hand against your wrist and takes your fingers into his, lacing them together as you continue to feel him stretch you out.

You never expected Ashton to have a thick piece but you also didn’t expect to be in this exact position right now, literally. Your childhood friend having his way with you while you were both drunk off each other and the alcohol in your systems.

His hips meet your backside before drawing back and pushing back in, your walls expanding with each thrust as you feel him begin a good pace. Moans begin to fall from your mouth, your eyes fluttering open every few seconds as your skin burns from the bruises soon to appear on your pulse from the black haired man beside you, skin still stuck to his lips.

“You’re moans are so pretty,” He breathes against you, his hand that was holding up your thigh runs up your hips to your chest, letting your leg fall as he takes one of your breasts and squeezes it gently.

All you can do is hum at his words because you’re too overstimulated to speak. The feeling of his thickness drawing in and out of you so heavily has you nodding off at the sensation, his fingers intertwined with yours beings to squeeze them together as the hand that was on your breast meets with his head at your neck.

“You like me fucking you,” He says into your ear as his hand squeezes your throat gently.

You nod your head as you feel your eyes slip close, and you were completely wrecked. He was so dirty yet gentle with you, peppering you with kisses yet digging into you so devilishly that it had your mind distraught.

“You like the way I feel inside you,” He continues, his hand growing more tight around your throat.

“Ash…” You say breathlessly, as your hand that rested against the bed sheets rises up and places it against the one making you breathless but encouraging your climax.

“Mm I like the way you feel around me,” He eggs on, and that makes you cry out, your back pushing pack and meeting his hips.

The feeling of your stomach twitching and legs quivering to close makes your head tip back even more against Ashton as you feel your orgasm on the brink.

That has him taking his hand away from your throat and slips it to lift your thigh back up as he continues to thrust into you, his lips press more kisses against your neck.

Your toes curl as the knot in your stomach expands and releases, the satisfying sensation washing over you as you let a deep breath break through your lips with a moan.

“Fuck,” Ashton hisses as he feels you twitch around him, the contractions from your high throwing him into his; his hips stutter before rocking back into you slowly, teeth gently digging into your skin, his breath being blown over the expanse of it.

The thickness of him slips out which causes your eyes to open, his hand dropping your thigh to wrap around your hips as his head buries into your neck.

The room is quiet for a moment as the only thing that can be heard is your hearts calming down and the chatter from down below.

“I would give you more kisses but I’ve made a mess on your neck,” His voice vibrates against you, that only makes you let out a broken laugh.

“I don’t even wanna know what it looks like,” You reply, your hand that rested on the duvet linking with his that rest along your stomach.

This felt nice, the amazing sex and cuddling session after. The room just being quiet and the only thing that can be heard is your breaths and beating hearts. This was so spontaneous that you still can’t even wrap your mind around what happened.

“How would you feel about doing this more often?” Ashton says after a few minutes, his chest moving as he pulls his head away from your neck to lie back against the pillows.

Having casual sex with him? You ponder on the idea. It was definitely one of the best you have ever had, he felt amazing and checked off every box when it came to how to please you. You couldn’t even lie and say that you didn’t find Ash attractive, you are also now officially single, free to due what we you wanted, so fuck it.

“Like… Friends with benefits?” You say, your thumb running against his hand still linked with yours by your head.

“Yeah, friends with benefits,” He confirms.

You let your head swish from side to side as you feel the burning sensation of his love bites strain against your neck as you let out a sarcastic hum to yourself as if you’re thinking it over.

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

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