#I never stop putting one foot in front of the other and it's got me a house and I cleaned that fucking trailer
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the girl next door 3
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
The noise of a lawnmower welcomes you out into the vibrant summer day. Your mother is already on the porch, sat on the patio bench. You can tell she’s primped herself up just a little bit. You put the jug of lemonade on the wicker table and stand by the end of the long eat.
“A kind man,” your mother muses beneath the racket of the mower, “about time we got someone decent ‘round here. You know,” she furrows her brow viciously, “those bitches from the cul-de-sac never liked your nana. Hate us even more. Stepford hags.”
You nod and peek over at Steve as he pushes the mower in a straight line. The grass falls to the blade and leaves thick clippings in rows. You twiddle your fingers as you notice the shine of sweat on the man’s forehead and forearms. His act of kindness feels more like pity.
“Don’t be stupid, girl, go grab some cups,” your mother snipes and draws your attention back to the porch. “That man’s going to think I raised a moron.”
You retreat back into the house. For as pleasant as she was to your new neighbour, it has done little for her mood. Or maybe it’s just you.
You grab two of the rippled plastic cups from the cupboard and head back down the hall. You stop as you reflection passes you in the mirror. You turn to face it. You frown. You’re nothing special to look at but you don’t do much to help that. You wonder if you put on some mascara or wore something nicer if you might look anything close to pretty.
You shrug off the fleeting insecurity. It’s not important. Your mother’s sick and your little uncertainties don’t mean anything. You push through the screen door and clack the cups down. As you do, the mower quiets and you peer over. The grass is trimmed neatly as Steve stands close to the steps, wiping his forehead as his cheeks burn rosy form the heat.
“Whew, think I’ll try some of that lemonade,” he climbs the steps, “hot one today.”
As he climbs the last step and he drags his hands down his tee shirt. His grey blonde hair droops forward and he tries to shake it out of his face. He tugs at the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head, revealing a sweat-dampened undershirt.
“Don’t mind me,” he chuckles as he uses the outer layer to mop his face and neck, “think I overdressed.”
“Get him some lemonade,” your mother hisses and points to the jug. “Steve, was it? What brings you to Heron Meadows?”
You unstack one cup from the other and fill both. You set the pitcher back down and step back on your heel, folding your hands together as you fade into the background. You’re peripheral to your mother. You only exist when she needs you.
“Well, settling down, I think,” he smiles and reaches for a cup. He raises it and stops it just in front of his chest. He carefully gestures at you with it, “thanks.”
Your eyes round and you glance away, “welcome.”
“Settling down?” Your mother echoes coyly.
“I know, I’m a bit late to the game. Had to get out of the city. Maybe I outgrew it,” he sighs, “and you two? Where’s your husband hanging out?”
You mother laughs and crosses one leg over the other, not easily as she struggles to still the shake in her foot, “long gone. He never saw this place.”
“Ah, hope I didn’t hit a sore spot,” Steve’s cheek dimples before he sips from the glass.
“Mm, don’t feel much for the deadbeat,” your mother tisks, “what about you? Settling down? Is your wife coming with the couch?”
“Ah, yeah,” he reaches over to plant his hand against the pillar that connects to the rail. He leans on it and gulps again. He swallows before he continues, his eyes meeting yours for the split second you dare to look up, “missed that step but the house will keep me busy until I figure that out.”
“Oh don’t you worry, that little club will keep you busy,” your mother scoffs, “make sure ya keep your picket fence nice and whitewashed.”
Steve gives a curious furrow of his brow. You mother sniffs as her little quip hangs in the air.
“HOA,” you put in quietly.
“Mm, I bought out of that,” he says. “Outdated if you ask me. I don’t need them telling me what colour to paint my door.”
“Bought out?” Your mother grumbles.
“I didn’t relish the extra lawyer fees but worth it,” Steve explains before he empties the cup and puts it back down, “thanks, that was great. Uh, guess I should get started on the back.”
You stand dumbly as you mother agrees with a grumble. An awkward silence thickens around you and she snaps in your direction with her fingers, “take him out back, honey.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” you clamour forward as if awoken from a slumber. “Just...” you near Steve and step around him to scurry down the stairs. “this way.”
He leaves his tee shirt draped over the railing and turns to follow. He looms like a shadow behind you and as you stop to reach over the top of the gate and unlock it, you scratch around blindly. He steps closer and hooks his arm over yours. The smell of his sweat fills your nose.
“Got it,” he says as he easily unlatches the clasp and the gate slants inward.
You push through, quickly making distance from him as he trails you into the backyard. It’s even worse than the front. You grab the broken mower from where you left it and drag it towards the garage.
“Great, I’ll go grab the mower,” he declares and leaves you to shove your way awkwardly into the side door of the garage. You push the rusted metal inside and the door snaps shut at your back as you emerge back into the sunlight.
Steve pushes through his nice electric mower and you shy away. It’s got to be close to new and no doubt expensive. You trod through the tall grass and as you pass him, his arm brushes yours.
“I could do the eaves too,” he stops beside you. “Get some of these weeds cut too.”
“No thanks,”
“I don’t mind,” he insists.
“I can manage.”
“You can. Probably a lot. Your mom...” he suggests, letting his words hang. “She sick?”
You glance at his chest, the white fabric taught to his muscles above his thick stomach. You nod.
“You take care of her?” He prompts.
“Do my best,” you mutter and traipse on, “thanks.”
“Right, uh,” he calls after you, “well, if you change your mind or think of anything, you can always ask.”
You keep on. He feels bad for you. Just like everyone else. You’ve heard Marge and Lucy on their daily power walk; poor thing, going nowhere, sad...
You go back out front, leaving the gate open. You go to grab the broom from the porch as your mother remains as she was. Her hand trembles on her thigh.
“You know, should clean up around here,” she says, “invite him for dinner as thank you. Maybe tomorrow.”
You take the broom and stop at the bottom of the steps, “maybe tomorrow,” you agree.
“He’s a nice man. Could use one of those,” she smirks, “never had one of those. Handsome to boot.”
It’s strange. You haven’t seen your mother smile since your grandma was around and even then, it wasn’t like this. The way she’s talking is almost ravenous. Like she’s slathering over a pork chop still on the grill.
“Just gonna sweep up the trimmings,” you explain as you drag the broom down the walk.
“Ugh, do whatever, you simple girl,” she chides. “When you’re done, you start on that kitchen. Those damn dishes have been sitting there all day.”
“Yes mother,” you say to the broomstick as you begin to sweep.
The sun beams relentlessly down, pouring onto you like fire. When you’re done, you return the broom to its place against the siding of the house and let yourself inside. Your mother hums as she watches the birds. You should be happy to see her outside, to see her in a better mood, but you’re too uneasy with the presence of that man. You know his name but it doesn’t make him any less a stranger.
You fill the sink and add soap. You plunge a stack of plates into the water and stare out the small window above. You can see the side of the next house. It isn’t much too look at but sometimes a squirrel will critter along the wooden fence top.
As you zone out, hands working mindlessly on scrubbing and dousing, a shift in the foggy colours of your vision brings your eyes into focus. You blink as Steve waves from outside. He rolls the mower up to the gate and smiles at you. You wince, jolted by the reminder of him. You offer a flutter of your soapy fingers.
He stops and stares at you through the window. You blink, uncertain what to do. He’s just looking at you. He winks and you wince at the gesture. He slaps his hand back down on the mower and pushes it through to the front yard. That was odd.
Or maybe you’re just awkward.
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#drabble#the girl next door#series#au#silverfox au#mcu#marvel#captain america
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I don't know, here's my problem with all that gratitude stuff people are always pushing
I'm here finding myself grateful for the really bad unexplained stomach problems I had for months that randomly flared up so bad I couldn't leave the house safely somedays (literally missed my last doctor's appointment cause it turned out that wasn't a day to be out and about)
Like unprompted, not as some kind of exercise or something, I find myself being like "yeah it may have royally sucked, but it really has helped me get a feel for how my stomach is doing so maybe I appreciate it"
Feel like that's fairly gratitude minded when you can find yourself being grateful for basically months of being sick, you know?
...so fuck off an let me be. If me organically being grateful for a painful time in my life where a lot of nights I'd be worried about going to sleep and dealing with issues so bad I was worried about how I was gonna be able to take this trip unless I got lucky... if I just on my own end up being grateful for that and still want to put a bullet in my head, maybe gratitude isn't a cure all
Maybe piss off with it, you know? I'm the first to say it's good to be grateful for shit, and frankly even walls (even when there's insulation issues) are a fucking blessing and I'll always thank my house for everything it does for me
Still not a magic bullet against depression and I get fucking sick of everyone talking like it is one... like if I just gratituded harder I'd feel better
#as always; this is why I have my no advice without being willing to help implement it policy#I don't get to tell people what to do to feel better#I just get to offer support and get stuck in with helping try to change things for the better for them in my small ineffective ways#and you know they may never feel better; and that would fucking suck cause they deserve to#but I'm not gonna make them feel bad for being open and honest about how they're doing#and I'll just keep telling them the things I like about them till maybe one day they can internalize it#and... and I'll keep trying to do the small things I can to help support them in making changes#or if at all possible directly participate in making a change for them#rather have someone be miserable and honest about it than ever try to spare my feelings#no I never want them to be doing bad but I'd rather try to just sit with them through it than make them sit alone#and I'd rather fix it all... but sometimes neither of us fucking can right now... and it's time to wait with them#had someone dealing with a real shit situation#and you know what? I knew the exact fix for the shit situation#but here's the problem... people can't do shit till they're ready and me trying to force it would have made it worse#so I just hung out and let them vent and repeatedly made sure they knew they were making sense; validated their perception of reality#made an introduction so they had more people around who'd be in their corner building them up instead of tearing them down#eventually they made the fix I knew was the fix all along and it hurt like hell to do it#and yet things started getting better pretty much immediately; cause it was always the problem#and if I could go back and do it again I'd do it the same; I wouldn't force the fix any sooner cause it had to be their choice#and frankly me pushing could have sabotaged shit#and it's still hard; and often all I can do is sit with them as they ride shit out right now and... I don't like that#I want to fix things in every way for them; they deserve that#but I can't... so I'd rather be with them as things are than make them repair everything so I feel comfortable#that's my opinion on all this#and frankly if you want to dig up my nasty bitter fucking side I try to keep tamped down#this shit is a good way to bring that side of me out#like fuck off; either you're gonna help or you're being a fucking busy body#and you can shove your advice up your ass cause spoiler I fucking tried it#I never stop putting one foot in front of the other and it's got me a house and I cleaned that fucking trailer#so how about you stuff it if you don't like how miserable I am
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simon ‘sweet talking’ riley who knows exactly what to say to get you back in his bed :(
c/w: nothing really, implications of smut but nothing graphic, arguments, fluff kinda
not even in a toxic way. he just knows exactly how to make your knees turn to mush with that thick manc timbre of his. the silent treatment never lasts long against him
just imagine, it’s date night. you two haven’t had any alone time in forever since he’s just so busy with work. you get all dolled up for him. went to the salon and got your hair and nails done, bought a new dress and everything
just for him to not notice any of it when you come downstairs, your hopeful smile dropping when he just presses a kiss to the side of your head and guides you out the front door
this put you in a sour mood at dinner, which in turn led to an argument which then lead to you two going home early. the shouting match carried on for a few hours until all the fight had been drained from your bones. instead a bitter and melancholy silence hangs on the walls of your shared house
you were both in the bedroom now, simon sat on the edge of the bed, a beer in one hand and his head resting in the other. his once prim appeared now dishevelled and stressed. he hears you shuffling around and peers his head around to watch you
it’s almost methodically how you undo your appearance. hands deftly unclasping your necklace and putting it back in your jewellery box. you sit down on the foot of the bed, unbuckling your heels but leaving them strewn on the floor before slipping off your dress
he watches as the black fabric slips from your shoulders and pools at your feet. he doesn’t miss the new lingerie set you must’ve worn for the special occasion. he lets out a sigh, putting his beer down and walking over to you
you stop what you’re doing when you feel his arms wrap around you from behind, a frown pulling at your lips when he buries his face into the crook of your neck,
“ya look beautiful, lovie…” he hums, one of his fingers slipping ever so slightly under the waistband of your panties. you wriggle in his tight hold but he doesn’t let up
“stop, simon…” you whine but he ignores you, pressing kisses to the nape of your neck instead
“ya’think I didn’t notice all this?” he coos, “how you got all prettied up for me tonight? new hair and dress and everything…”
he gently sways you from side to side, breathing in the scent of your perfume. you let out a content sigh, your earlier frown still present on your face
“I know I acted like a wanker, love. lemme make it up to ya. show my pretty wife jus’ how much I love her. want all the neighbours to know just how stunning I think you are…” he continues and you hate how he always has this affect on you, can never keep you mad at him
he leans his head around to place a few soft pecks to your lips. you don’t miss the smirk that spreads across his face when you lean up to deepen the kiss :(
#mw2#cod mw2#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#bluecollar!simon#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley smut#simon ghost x reader
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you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3
THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️
You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)
Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?
Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts
Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho UPDATE: PART 2 POSTED!
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.
Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”
He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”
He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”
Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”
“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.
She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”
Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”
“I was standing up for myself!”
“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”
“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”
“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”
“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”
“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.
“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.
Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.
Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”
Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”
Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”
The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.
“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.
Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”
Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.
Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”
She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”
—
“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”
“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.
Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”
Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”
Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”
“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.
Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”
The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”
Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.
There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.
Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.
It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.
He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.
“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.
She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.
“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.
He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.
Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”
His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.
Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.
“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”
Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?
Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”
He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.
He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.
These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.
Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.
She can’t get feelings.
She won’t get feelings.
And that was that, she decided.
“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”
She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.
Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”
He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”
She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”
As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.
“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.
She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.
He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”
He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.
For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.
What a dangerous game.
—
Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.
She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.
He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.
He’s worried about her.
A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.
The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.
Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.
That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.
The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.
He wouldn’t risk that now.
Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.
“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.
He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.
Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.
“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.
“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.
“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.
She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.
Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.
“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.
“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”
“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.
“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”
Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.
Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.
Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”
Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”
She nods, “Yeah.”
They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.
“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.
She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”
Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.
“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.
If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.
Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.
Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.
When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”
“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.
He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.
Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.
It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.
His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.
“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.
She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.
Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.
Lando’s drink that’s completely full.
🏎️
Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.
His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.
All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.
The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
All I need is your love tonight.
The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.
His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.
Fuck it, he thinks.
He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.
No cameras, no fans, no press.
Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.
All I need is your love tonight.
—
“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.
Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”
He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”
She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”
He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”
She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.
When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”
She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”
Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”
He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.
A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”
Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.
“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.
His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.
He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.
“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.
The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.
He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.
After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.
He loves this. He loves he-
“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.
He can’t be feeling that way.
He isn’t.
Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”
The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”
Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”
Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.
He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”
You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.
The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.
She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.
She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.
By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”
He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”
He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.
Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.
Had he always meant everything?
—
Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”
There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.
Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.
“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.
Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”
Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”
Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”
Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.
Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.
“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.
Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.
Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”
He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”
His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.
“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.
It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.
Y/n’s car.
Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”
Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”
Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.
Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.
“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.
He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”
The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”
“How much help?”
Silence.
Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”
“She’s not moving.”
Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.
Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”
Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”
Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”
Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.
When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.
He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.
There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.
There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.
When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.
Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”
She nods, “Will be.”
“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.
They really were selling this.
Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”
He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”
Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.
“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”
The truth hangs in the air painfully.
They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.
All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.
Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.
And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.
—
“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.
He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.
“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.
Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.
With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.
The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.
With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.
Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”
She nods, “Always.”
A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.
In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.
At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.
Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.
How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.
🏎️
Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.
He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.
They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.
“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.
Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”
Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”
He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”
She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”
Of fucking course, he thinks.
“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.
Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.
“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.
“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.
Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”
Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.
They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”
Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.
“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”
His response, easy and light, crushes her.
Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”
Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.
He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”
Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”
Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”
He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.
Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”
Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.
A look of intense love.
She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”
He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.
🏎️
Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.
She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”
As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.
Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”
He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”
“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.
Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”
Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”
Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”
Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”
Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”
His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.
Those things go unsaid.
Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”
She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”
“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.
The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?
Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”
She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.
“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.
He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.
She isn’t. How could he say that?
How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?
How could he let her get away?
UPDATE: i posted part 2! Find it here.
A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE
#mclaren#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagines#mclaren formula 1#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris fic#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#lando norris x you#lando norris edit
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A Demonstration (18+)
Pairing: Ellie Williams x f!reader
Warnings: smut, pet names
Summary: you've been pining over Ellie for years, what happens when you walk into her in a very... compromising place
Masterlist
Your whole body trembles by the time you finally find the courage to open the door, the provocative sign making you blush furiously. You're thankful no one greets you when you step inside, the silence allowing your nerves to calm a bit. You look around the shop, sensual lighting enhancing the mood, showcasing various rows of toys.
You clear your throat and take a hesitant step further, looking around wildly in search of something inconspicuous and small. There's a stand full of dick shaped lollipops that makes you bite back an amused smile, and right next to it is a stand dedicated to vaginas. You look to the other side and pass the shelves full of flavored lube, eyes zeroed in on small bullet vibrators.
The sizes vary, but you're not sure you'll be able to take something bigger than two of your fingers, so you take one in the closest size, turn around and bump into someone's chest, dropping the small box. Strong hands clasp around your shoulders, steadying you, captivating smell of tobacco and dark chocolate invading your senses. You mutter an apology, hurrying to bend and pick up the box before the woman notices, but she has the same thing in mind, her hand grazing yours as she grabs it before you could. You straighten, gnawing on your lower lip and looking away, too embarrassed to face the stranger.
"Y/n?" A familiar voice speaks. Your eyes widen comically, falling on the woman you haven't thought about in years. "Ellie?"
You've spent half of your teenage years pinning over the girl, desperately wishing she'd look at you, dreaming about her touch. Spending a fair share of time in close proximity to her (perks of being Jessi's friend) made you crave her presence at all times, which made the pain even worse when she decided to flee the city right after a nasty fight with her adoptive father. You've never told anyone about your feelings for her, keeping them buried deep in your heart.
You can't ignore them now, even after years of suppression.
“Hi,” she breathes out, a dorky smile on her lips, and offers you the box. “I was hoping I'd bump into you somewhere, and here you are.”
You blush under her watchful eyes, shifting from foot to foot, and take the box. “I didn't know you were back.”
She looks you up and down, her eyes lingering on the toy in your hands. “I didn't tell anyone.”
“Even Dina?” You can't help, but ask.
She huffs a quiet laugh. “Especially Dina. She can't keep shit to herself. Where do you think all the gossip comes from?”
You smile, shaking your head in amusement. “So no one knows you're in town?”
“No one, except for you and the people who've helped me put this whole thing up.” She spreads her arms wide, gesturing to the shop around her. Your jaw grows slack, your fingers clutching around the box tightly. She smirks, and your blush deepens, your heart almost bursting out of your chest.
“It’s- it's a nice shop,” you stummer.
She hums. “Are you going to be a regular?” she teases good-naturally, but there's a glint in her eyes that tells you she's actually curious about the answer.
“I don't think so? I mean, I've never actually been- um… I don't usually…” you trail off, closing your eyes. She grasps your wrist, her thumb drawing half circles over your pulse point, and the gesture makes you relax slightly. “Is it your first time buying a sex toy?” she asks, her voice raspy and deep. You nod jerkily, looking away from her prying eyes. “It's okay, I got it.” She whispers, before quickly walking to the front of the shop and turning the lock.
You shudder involuntarily, stepping closer to the register. She stops you midway and grasps your wrist, leading you towards the back. “C’mon, I think I have something you'll like.”
You gulp, wishing you never left your apartment, but follow her nonetheless. You enter a small storage room full of nondescript boxes, and she nudges you towards the only table in the room. You lean against it, watching as she rummages around in search of god knows what, your eyes landing on her lean legs before trailing up to her perky butt. You look away, biting on the inside of your cheek.
“What do you think?” She asks, and you're forced to look at her again.
She's holding some kind of a sex toy in her hands, one you're not familiar with at all. “I… I don't know what that is.”
Her lips stretch in a lazy smile as she walks up to you. She holds your chin between her fingers, tilting your head up. “Would you like to find out?”
You suck in a breath, looking back at the toy, and nod shakily. She chuckles and opens the box. The toy is small and elongated, with a few buttons on one side.
“That little guy can make you come in two minutes,” she starts, caressing the toy with her thumb, “you put it on your clit, and it'll suck it like there's no tomorrow.” She chuckles, seeing the look on your face. “Wanna try?”
“N-no,” you stummer, blushing furiously. “I think I'll just stick to this for now.” You hold up the box in your hand.
Ellie hums and makes her way to you, throwing the toy in her hand on the table. “Do you know how to use it?”
You freeze, not expecting the question.
“I- I guess?"
She chuckles, and takes it from you. “I'll give you a demonstration then.”
You choke on your spit. “What?”
She pats your cheek playfully, her thumb lingering on your lower lip, and you struggle to keep your tongue from darting out. “Hop up, babe.”
Your body moves on its own, and a second later you're sitting on the table, your back against the wall, holding the hem of your dress in your clenched fists.
She takes out a bottle of lube from the drawer, followed by a fleshlight. You gulp, noting how close to the real thing the toy is. Ellie looks at you for a moment, before squeezing some lube on her fingers and spreading it over the toy, her eyes returning to you. She slides her thumb over the fake clit of the toy, spreading lube, you can almost feel the ghost of her touch on your folds, your clit twitching. She looks at you like she knows exactly what's going through your head and places her hand on your leg. Your breath hitches and you clump your thighs shut, trapping her hand between your legs. She raises an eyebrow, and pushes her thumb inside, her dark eyes on you. You swallow, wishing she was pushing inside you instead.
"You have to listen to your body, if something doesn't feel good, don't do it." Her hand leaves your leg and you whimper at the loss, cheeks burning when Ellie merely chuckles. She takes the vibrator and slowly pushes it inside, her thumb painting circles over the toy's clit. "You think that'll feel good for you?"
You nod rapidly, not trusting your voice. She hums, thrusting it slowly and you exhale shakily, your pussy clenching around nothing. She continues, her chocolate eyes pinned to your face, catching the way your lips open, the way your eyes grow misty with lust.
"I think so too, angel, I think you'll take it like a good girl," she whispers, her hand returns to your thigh sliding higher, almost there.
You jump off the table, looking down at the floor as you stutter some made-up excuse. Your cheeks burn in shame, your thighs clenched. You try to walk past her, but she stops you, one hand on your waist, the other under your jaw, tilting your face up.
"Where do you think you're going, bunny? I don't think you've learned just yet." She guides you back on the table, toys forgotten as she chooses to stand between your parted thighs. She looks you up and down appreciatively, eyes lingering on your exposed cleavage, hands hot on your hips. "Why don't you show me how you do it? I need to know what I'm working with." She licks her lips, thumbs tracing circles over your thin dress.
Your cheeks heat up and you almost shake your head no, ready to bolt out the door and forget any of this ever happened.
"Hey, look at me." She tilts your head up, her lips inches away from yours. "I'm going to make you feel good, baby. But I want to see you first, okay? Show me how pretty your pussy looks," she husks, pupils blown with want.
You nod, ready to give it all to her. Her lips come crashing down on your own, pulling you in a bruising kiss. You gasp, your lips parting just enough to allow her tongue entrance, the wet muscle exploring your mouth before she bites on your lower lip, slowly pulling away. Your legs hook over her waist, trapping her in place. She takes your hand, her palm over yours, and you can't help but notice the difference in size. Her long, slender fingers wrap around your hand completely, leaving you to wonder how good they'll feel inside you.
"Do it or I'll have to punish you."
You blink, breath hitching. "P-punish me?"
She smiles. "See that?" She nods at one of the boxes on the counter. You gulp and look back at her, eyes wide. "Don't make me use that on you, baby. Do as I say."
You nod, and hitch up your dress, your legs parting. Ellie pulls away as far as your legs allow, her hands on your waist. You take a steadying breath, before exhaling and looking up to her gorgeous green eyes, full of hunger and need. You tug on your panties, slowly dragging them down, and Ellie takes them from your hand and shoves them into her back pocket, smiling at the way you gulp loudly. "You won't need them," she whispers, putting her hands back on your thighs, tracing circles over your heated skin. You nod, biting on your lower lip, unconsciously spreading your legs wider.
"That's right, spread em wide open for me," she whispers, hunching up your dress to reveal your glistening core.
She sucks in a breath, her eyes growing darker, and wets her lips. Your chest burns, and you're sure it's the same color as your cheeks, embarrassingly red. Still, her words ring in your head, making your cup your pussy. You stifle a moan, feeling just how wet you are, your folds drenched in your arousal.
“Good girl,” she hums, “go on, baby, push them inside.”
You do as she says without a second thought, your fingers sinking in your warmth. She bites on her lip, her eyes pinned to your slick folds, and places her hands over your bra, kneading your covered breasts. You moan, steadily pumping your fingers inside your clenching pussy, arching into her muscled form.
“You're not doing it right, baby.” She stops you, her fingers around your wrist. "You can't even take care of your pretty cunt without my help.”
You whine, hips buckling. “Don't worry, I'll help you out."
She tugs your closer, your heat snug against her lower stomach, and reaches for the toy she was using, pulling it out of the flashlight and pushing it down your folds, lube and slick coating the toy. You whine, burying your face in the crook of her neck, your nails digging into her waist. “Please, Ellie.”
She chuckles, circling your clit with the tip of the toy. “Please what?”
“Put it inside, please,” you whimper, chasing the toy with your hips.
She hums, her palm sliding up your chest to wrap around your neck with a barest hint of pressure. "Do you think you can take it, pretty girl?"
You suck in a breath, wiggling your hips to get friction, and close your eyes. “Yes.”
“Yeah?” She chuckles, nudging the tip of the toy against your entrance, before slowly easing it inside. She leans in close, her hot breath caressing your ear. “Good girl.” She presses the button, making the toy vibrate, and pushes it fully inside.
“Ellie…” You cry out, back arching into her lean body, your entire being on fire. You roughly pull on her hair when she starts moving the toy, bringing her face to your neck. She sucks on the tender flesh, fucking you slowly.
“I bet you taste fucking amazing,” she purrs, kissing the underside of your jaw before pulling you in a heated kiss.
You whimper, grinding against her messily, her front covered in your arousal. She moves the toy faster, pushing it deeper and deeper, the vibrations spreading pleasure over your body. She slides her thumb over your clit and you scream, eyes clenched tightly as you come.
“There's my good girl,” she praises, slowing down, her lips hot on your skin, tongue catching beads of sweat in the valley between your breasts.
You catch your breath, whining in protest as she pulls out the toy and grind against her front, but she stops you with a firm grip. “You made a big mess, bunny. It's time you clean it all up.” She tugs you off the table and pushes you down to your knees, undoing her belt buckle.
You nod eagerly, mouth watering at the sight. “Yes, Ellie.”
#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams#tlou#the last of us#a Demonstration
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green is not your colour (1) - coriolanus snow.
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.
Warning: Implied cheating.
Summary: You've been engaged to Coriolanus Snow for a few short weeks and have been living together for even shorter but, the betrothal is put through its first test when Coriolanus's affair makes itself known. Part (1/2).
Wordcount: 1.3k.
A/N: This takes place in the 'You Keep Him There' universe. A couple of months before Christmas Kiss. Please tell me you catch the Yellowstone reference.
11 months ago.
The stone bench cuts into the skin of your exposed thigh, one leg crossed over the other as your arm rests along the back of the garden seat. Goosebumps cover the length of your body; remnants of last night’s cold snap are still evident as the icy blanket that covers the Manor’s grounds slowly melt away with the slow rising sun.
Of course, the cold was of no concern. Not when you had your new found habit to keep you warm.
Taking a drag from the lit cigarette between your fingers, your gaze is unwavering as you stare down the anxious chauffeur who had pulled into the driveway of your new home at the same time that you did - belonging neither to you or Coriolanus.
It had taken you all of 30 seconds to piece together what was going on and who the car belonged to - after all, you weren’t supposed to be home until the afternoon. You aren’t surprised Coriolanus would do this but, it doesn’t make it hurt any less; doesn’t temper the green eyed monster threatening to rear its ugly head.
Sure, you didn’t like him but, the two of you had known each other your entire lives; would marry in less than a year, he belonged to you- you'd hoped those things would at least mean something to him too but, it doesn’t and again, that doesn’t surprise you but, you are disappointed. Disappointed that he would bring this into your home.
The chauffeur fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves, unsure of where to look as his gaze shifts nervously between you and the front doors until finally, they open and he relaxes slightly, eager to escape the weight of your stare as he wrenches the car door open for his passenger.
You watch, hidden from their view as she emerges from your home, bidding farewell to your fiance. Crushing the cigarette, you wait until she’s about to enter the car to make your presence known.
“I always suspected there may be something more between the two of you but, to become his mistress?” You stand, making your way over to her.
Stopping a metre out, you drag your gaze lazily over her figure until you meet her own surprised one.
“My, my, Clemensia, I never expected that from you,” you tut. “Although, I won’t lie. After your… stint in the hospital back in our academy days, I didn’t think he’d ever look at you again.”
She flinches at your words but it doesn’t keep her down for long. The red-eyed, puffy-cheeked beauty straightening her back and puffing her chest with an air of arrogance that you did not appreciate.
“What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” you repeat, laughing at the nerve of her. “Clemensia, this is my house. I can come and go as I please but, you? Well, we are going to have a problem if I see you around here again.”
"You can't stop me. He was mine first."
You take an intimidating step closer.
“You want to sleep with Coriolanus? Fine. That’s your choice but, not in my house. Affairs are for hotels not homes, and if you ever step foot in mine again, I will make sure you never take another step again. Got it?”
She swallows thickly but nods her understanding.
"Good. Now get off of my property before, I have you removed from it."
You don’t wait for her to go, sights immediately set on the fool you were to take as your husband in less than a year.
“Coriolanus,” you yell, throwing the doors open, anger finally revealing itself. “Coriolanus!”
You find him sitting at the head of the dining table, looking equally as surprised as his whore to see you. Unlike her however, he’s quick to hide it.
“When did you-”
“You keep your whores out of my house, Coriolanus,” you warn him. “You keep your whores out of my house or I will teach you a lesson that I promise you will never forget.”
-
You spend the rest of the day sleeping, too tired from the morning's events and traveling to do anything else but rest, so it’s dark out by the time you leave your room.
Padding down the staircase, your tummy makes its hunger known, growling out for anyone awake to hear. Sleepily, you make your way to the kitchen, not noticing the dim light emitting from the space until you're already inside with an unwanted guest.
You look at him for a moment, thinking about whether to tuck tail and turn away or continue on your journey for food- your stomach makes your decision for you however, when it growls again.
Coriolanus is the first to speak. “There's a plate in the fridge for you.”
You don’t acknowledge him, opening the fridge in silence and indeed finding the plate of food inside. You pretend he’s not there as you move around the kitchen to warm your food up. When everything is ready, you take a seat at the kitchen bench- it’s then that Coriolanus decides to speak again.
“I think we should talk about this morning.”
“We have,” you answer him, tone clipped. “And I told you not to bring your whores into my house again.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
You breathe a laugh of disbelief. Was it not enough to discover what you did this morning now, he wanted to discuss it too? Picking up your plate, you make to leave- there were other rooms in this place that you could eat peacefully in.
“It’s over-” he follows after you, blocking your path. “Me and Clemmie. I ended things with her.”
“Clemmie,” you scoff the name. “How very considerate of you. Does she know that?”
“She does and I didn’t end it because of what happened this morning- I ended things weeks ago. She’s just having a hard time letting go but, I promise it is. I’m with you.”
You pause- pinching the bridge of your nose.
“You should’ve ended it months ago, well before we even got engaged.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
You nod but don't forgive him and he uses your silence to keep talking.
“I want to make this work, I want us to get along, I want-” he hesitates, taking your free hand. “I want you to like me.”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“You made it very clear in the Academy that you don’t, I doubt your opinion of me has changed much since.”
You smile bitterly down at your joined hands. Your dislike for Coriolanus in school differed vastly from why you disliked him now.
You wonder if it would ever be possible to like Coriolanus Snow now.
It was hard to see the possibility when your entire being now depended on marrying him. Your grandparents had already loved him, he was Old Guard, cut from the same cloth and as he got older, they saw the future in Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panem. And that was before the proposal was even brought to them. Once it was… they would be damned if you married anyone else. When you attempted to go against it, they had made it known that they were more than willing to reduce you to nothing; taking steps to ensure you couldn’t refuse by hinging your inheritance of the Blizzard Telecommunications and Mass Media Empire and wealth on marrying him. Coriolanus Snow had snatched any freedom or hope for the future you envisioned for yourself away from you and he didn’t even know it.
Maybe one day you’d move past it or maybe one day he'd accept that you never would but, for now you settle for “maybe you can start with buying me a new house.”
Coriolanus chuckles but you're being serious and he agrees, "soon."
“And Coriolanus?”
“Yeah?”
“I don't ever want to see you with Clemensia Dovecote again. I don’t take kindly to those who you would threaten to take what is mine. Green is not my colour and, I promise you won’t like seeing me in it either.”
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus x you#coryo snow#coryo x reader#tom blyth
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can you do a teacher!chris and a college student pleasee. (With smut. And if you want to!!)
PROFESSOR STURNIOLO
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!teacher!chris x student!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: this isn’t your first problem with this specific professor, but at this moment you’re fed up and want to put your foot down.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, p in v, degradation, spanking, masturbation (female), making out, stomach bulge, overstimulation, dumbification, squirting, cream pie
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,535
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we are locked in🫡
your professor dismissed class mere seconds ago, and everybody either has already left the lecture hall or is still packing up. “are you meeting us for lunch?” your friend says, zippering her bag and putting it on her shoulder.
you scoff, shaking your head. “can’t.” you say, ripping out the essay you wrote for this class that was due a few days ago. “professor sturniolo gave me an F on the essay.”
“again?” she questions genuinely shocked. “he’s got a bone to pick with you.”
this isn’t the first encounter like this you had with your professor. this class — your argument and persuasion class — is the only one you’re failing this semester.
not in your three years have you ever had this type of problem, and after many F’s, you’ve finally had enough.
“well, good luck.” your friend sighs, leaving the classroom with the remaining group.
now, that leaves you and him.
it would be a different story if you didn’t do the assignment right or didn’t try on the essay, but you’re one hell of a writer and you’re sure he knows it. you’ve always been good in school, ever since a young age.
normally you wouldn’t pick up fights with teachers, but your blood has been boiling for this dude for weeks.
“what’s your problem with me?” you say sternly, wiggling the paper in your hand as you step down to where he is.
he stops erasing the board and turns to you. “class is over, ms. l/n.”
yeah, no shit.
you roll your eyes. “so? i want to speak with you about my recent essay. you always give me F’s and never explain why. i would understand if it happened once before at the beginning of the year, but for every. single. one? it’s ridiculous.
he’s emotionless as he listens to your rambling, then he shrugs. “it wasn’t good enough.”
you crinkle the paper in your fist and slam it down on the desk in front of you. “wasn’t good enough my fucking ass, professor sturniolo. is it a favoritism thing? or are you fucking the other chicks in your class so they can have good grades? is that what i need to do? do i need to fuck you?”
the moment those words left your mouth, you knew that was a huge mistake.
you wouldn’t be surprised if he does, though. he’s not much older than you, and he is attractive.
he licks his lips, tilting his head toward himself. “bring it over.”
you gulp, feeling slightly intimidated. you uncrinkle the page and hand it to him, who is now sitting in the chair.
not even reading it, he stares at it and looks back up at you. “sorry. your paper didn’t meet the expectations.”
your pinch your lips together to keep you from screaming at him. “you didn’t even read it.” you shake your head. “i should’ve dropped this class when i had the chance. you’re cocky, and a waste of my time. i’m failing probably because your teaching sucks.”
as you start to storm out, he speaks up. “i’m going to have to clean that filthy mouth of yours.” he smirks. “teach you a much-deserved lesson, then afterward you can see if my teaching still sucks.”
you pause in your tracks, face turning beat red as you slowly turn back around. “w-what?”
he motions you to come over with his finger, and for some reason, you listen.
grabbing your wrist, he pulls you over his lap so you’re straddling him. again, you let it happen. you can’t help the wetness that starts to pool between your legs.
“you can admit it, you know,” he whispers, dragging his hand from your waistband to your mouth. he grazes his thumb over your bottom lip.
“a-admit what?” you stammer, shuffling in his lap which causes him to groan and hold your hips.
he chuckles. “deep down you want me to fuck you. i bet you touch yourself to the thought of me like a desperate little thing.”
you look away, face turning even redder than before if possible. “nuh-uh.”
“your face says otherwise.” his whisper shoots a chill up your spine as he starts to unbutton your shorts.
the way your fingers move quickly inside of you have your eyes shut with your mouth dangled open.
you were lucky enough to get a single dorm, so you can do whatever you want without being sneaky about it.
the way your legs are spread makes your fingers dig deeper, curling to hit the right spot. you grip onto your sheets tight, moans and other loud noises leaving your lips.
your previous orgasms make a mess below you or the back of your thighs, but you don’t stop. you’ve been at this for almost an hour because your mind is only focused on one thing.
your lecturer.
professor sturniolo.
“shit.” you pant, your orgasm building for the nth time. you let go of the sheets to massage your breast, pinching at your nipple from time to time.
you whine. “just like that.”
legs shaking, your fingers get coated with yet another orgasm, but you wish it wasn’t your fingers.
you wish it were his.
your shorts are now on the floor, along with your shirt, underwear, and bra. chris still has his clothes on except for his pants.
hovering just above his tip, your lips move in sync with each other. his tongue fights yours, and the erotic sounds of you two kissing fill your ears.
his hands rub along your back before spanking you hard, ruining the intimate moment. you pull away to gasp.
“sit,” he demands, mouth agape as he looks down to watch you try to sink onto his dick.
you grunt from the pleasurable pain, stopping just about midway. he’s probably the biggest you’ve ever seen. “it’s not gonna fit.” you whine.
“i’ll make it fit.”
with that, he grips onto your ass, hammering up into you without being able to adjust first.
you grab onto his shoulders for dear life. you moan uncontrollably, the feeling of him raw inside of you making you grin like a fool.
you’ve been wanting him to do this for a very long time.
“look at you.” he starts, smacking your ass to have you jolt. “having the professor you allegedly hate balls deep in you.”
“i-i do— ha-ate you.” you struggle to get out, a hand landing on your asscheek again.
“is that so?” he mocks, waiting for you to talk back but instead you moan even louder. he nods. “that’s what i thought.”
he bites his lip, looking at the way your tits bounce rapidly and at the bulge in your belly, eyes widening slightly. he’d never seen something like that before.
“i should keep you around more often after class.” he groans, seeing your face of pleasure.
eyes rolled back, mouth hung open, hair disheveled and sticking to your forehead from sweating.
“you make a pretty little cocksleeve.”
that sentence makes you clench around him, your body starting to quiver from the overwhelming feeling. “ngh— feels so go-od. y-you make me feel s-so good.” you whimper. “wanna cum!”
“not until you apologize.” he tuts, grabbing and then spanking your ass. “say you’re sorry, and i might let you cum.”
you whine, his cock now kissing your g-spot more than it did before. “i’m s-sorry.”
“for?”
“for— mm!” you squeal. “for being b-bad.”
“and?”
“and-and—” you can’t finish because of the sudden clear liquid squirting out of you, now making your pussy squelch more than it was before. your back arches even harder, your brain all dazed and dumb from the overstimulation.
you start to lose stability from being too weak, so chris has to hold you by your arms.
he groans, shaking his head at the terrible mess you are making. “come on. you can do it.”
tears spill from your eyes, sobs running past your lips. “a-and for t-talking back. fuck!”
his dick twitches inside, his thrusts getting sloppy. “i hope you’re on the pill because i’m going to fill you deep, baby.”
you can only make sounds, so a high-pitched moan echoes throughout. you’re seeing stars the closer your orgasm approaches before it finally snaps and you’re smearing the ring of white around his dick.
he doesn’t stop, causing your body to twitch in his grasp as another orgasm builds since he’s still fucking deep to your g-spot.
“close again?” he laughs fake. “scream for me. let people know how much of a slut you are; letting your teacher use you to get a better grade.”
your body slowly starts becoming limp, eyes fluttering closed as you moan.
he spanks you for the last time, not caring that his job is on the line.
“louder. they can’t hear you.”
screaming this time, you cum once again when he holds you down on his shaft. you collapse onto his chest, quiet sobs leaving your lips as you feel his cum start to fill you.
he peppers kisses on your shoulders, peeking over them to grab a pen and clicking it open. he scribbles over the previous grade on your essay to write a new one.
A+
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!
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Okay @s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e I’m sure you know plenty BUT I’m going to use your wonderful and hilarious comment on this as an excuse to talk about Bernard, bc I realized recently that there are plenty of ppl who haven’t read most of the comics he’s been in. So get ready for my long overdue:
UNPACKING BERNARD DOWD + HIS TRAUMA (for those who cannot keep up with comics but want to get to know him)
So to start, Tim met Bernard years ago ofc, when they were in high school. It’s established pretty quick that Bernard is an extremely Unserious guy LMAO, the first thing he does is literally circle Tim and try to feel him out socially, see what kind of guy he is. He’s the kind of guy who gets himself in trouble with his big mouth, and seems to enjoy poking at Tim and testing his patience. By the time we meet Bernard again in the recent years, he’s grown a lot, but at his core he’s still the light-hearted, fun, goofy guy with very strong opinions. Just less stand-offish, maybe
Throughout the time Tim spends at this school though, Bernard does experience some wild shit. He lost Darla (somebody he really cared about), he experienced a shooting at his school, and then Darla came back from the dead, kind of scared the hell out of him, and used him to contact Tim again. It was kind of played for laughs, but like. That’s gotta fuck you up. (Robin #140)
Obviously this is the kind of thing that maybeee has a lasting effect on you. And BECAUSE Tim Drake: Robin got cut so short and the writer had to rush to wrap up the series, we’re left to fill in a lot of gaps and draw conclusions about the years we didn’t see Bernard ourselves. But we absolutely get some insight as to his life after Tim left that school and we stopped seeing him in the comics. Spoiler alert: it was hard.
In TDR, Bernard discusses the the cult that he’d been in that Tim saved him from in Urban Legends. He says that “he’d accepted himself”, but others hadn’t. Obviously there’s the natural reading that he means his queerness (which has me chewing through drywall), but I think that he’s speaking very broadly too. Bernard is a very odd example of a civilian, because he’s always getting dragged into things much bigger than him. And even before that, he had his big ideas, his conspiracies, his loud personality. He tended to rub people the wrong way in high school. Then in issue #7 of TDR (the Bernard pov issue my most beloved, weird pacing aside) Bernard refers to this “oozy, sticky feeling” that he ALWAYS feels when Tim isn’t around. He says when he’s alone it’s harder to put one foot in front of the other. To keep GOING. To wake up every day.
I think that Bernard has always felt like an outcast. (Robin #121, he doesn’t fit into any clique). He wasn’t as okay with it as he acted. And I think he wasn’t getting any attention from his parents. (Batman: Urban Legends #5, Bernard’s parents nonchalance to the days leading up to his kidnapping)
So just like Bernard explained to Tim, that feeling got bad. and he wanted to let go. The chaos monsters, the cult, all of it was a means to an end. But then Tim agreed to see him again, and I think that sparked something in him. Because he started learning to fight. When he was tied down to that alter and Tim was saving him, I think it fully sank in to Bernard that he didn’t want to die. Reconnecting with Tim gave him hope and made him really feel something good for the first time in ages.
So now that they’re dating after the cult fiasco, we get to know this current Bernard. A less goading, maybe calmer Bernard. But he’s still himself, of course, rambling about his ideas and making bad jokes and sticking to his guns (he has NEVER been a pushover, no idea where people get that idea?). I think a lot of people complained that Bernard mellowed out too much in terms of attitude, but I think if he seems “nicer” it’s because 1) he’s grown now. It’s been a while since we last saw him, and he’s clearly changed a lot. And 2) because he’s dating Tim now. He likes him a lot, and he’s an affectionate partner. He wants to lift Tim up.
But the fact that he was pulled into a cult still remains. And as lighthearted as Bernard tries to be, that traumatic experience still happened. It said in Urban Legends #5 while Tim was searching for him that Bernard had welts on his arms and legs and had been acting different, so it’s not like he was just snatched up on a whim. He’d spent significant time there. For those who haven’t read much abt the ways cult trauma specifically can fuck you up, I recommend doing a search if you’re in a good headspace for that and want to understand him more. because it’s pretty bad.
And then! yeah. you guessed it. Bernard gets kidnapped again. Chained up next to a BOMB that’s counting down. RIGHT WHEN HE’S WORKING ON HEALING FROM ALMOST BEING SACRIFICED BY A CULT.
And surely this can’t get crazier. He’s almost died twice in the past 6 months. except, remember his parents? In TD:R #7, we really see a little more of his relationship with his parents. He doesn’t live up to their standards, and his dad specifically seems to just want to argue with him. The restaurant they’re at is attacked, and everything goes to shit, and. you know, I think these panels really speak for themselves.
And for the record, when it’s revealed that everyone is seeing their worst fears, Bernard’s parents fears are not about him.
So now Bernard has to deal with that. And we start to see that Bernard is really not as okay as he’s tried to be. He keeps a baseball bat by his door because he’s been kidnapped twice now. And just when he’d likely thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard the Chaos Monsters were back. I can’t imagine he feels safe. He lashes out for the first time since all this has happened and yells at Kate and Tim, because while they’re doing what they feel is necessary to save more people (AND I DONT BLAME THEM AT ALL), Bernard can’t talk about it.
And I will forever be sad and insist that TD:R got cancelled too soon, just before we could get into the really juicy stuff, because things had to be wrapped up pretty quick and this was the only comic Bernard was consistently appearing in. But when Tim is giving himself up to the chaos monsters, Bernard goes out and rallies anyone he knows can help. Things were rushed because there was no more time to flesh out the story the way it could have been, but I’m including these panels just because I love Bernard Audacity Dowd using a fucking flashlight and shadow puppet to call Batman. geeking out for a minute. And then leading the battalion to save Tim with a SLEDGEHAMMER. gay people rule.
So yeah! While I see the vision of how a lot of Bernard’s trauma was meant to be semi-resolved and let him come to peace after saving Tim back, we just didn’t have the time for him to heal properly. I’d give anything to get inside his brain again. UHH IF YOU READ THIS I HOPE YOU LOVE BERNARD NOW and don’t come at me if I left something out, some of my comics aren’t with me rn. Bonus TimBer for the road:
#WHEW IT TOOK A WHILE TO ORGANIZE THESE PANELS#Hes NOT BORING he is SO FASCINATING TO ME#i think his character is just not being utilized the way it could be#I didnt source every panel so just ask if you want to know where something is from!#bernard dowd#batfamily#dc comics#tim drake#timber#timbern
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omg i love your alastor fic, can i get one where alastor's s/o is from the victorian times so she's teaching him how to properly ballroom dance
Learning Takes Time.
Alastor x Victorian Era! Reader
In which, you teach Alastor how to properly ballroom dance.
A/N: AHH!!! I LOVE THISJDBDKWJEMDKSNEJDJSNEEN TYSM FOR REQUESTING 🙏🙏 I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE!
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“Dear?” Alastor called to you softly. His smile shines towards you. “Ah—! Hello, my love.” You said, smiling happily, placing the book you were reading down onto your lap. You wore a Victorian ball gown, with pearls. Making your s/c(skin color) stand out. Titling your head to the side, “What can I help you with?” You asked, smiling. “Well, I was hoping you could perhaps teach me how to dance. A good friend of mine is hosting a party, a ball.” Alastor began, closing the door behind him as he moved closer to you.
You perk up. “Oh! Yes yes!” You cheered, clapping your gloves hands together. “I’d be happy to help you, my dearest!” You quickly, yet gently take his hand and pull him close. “It will take a few tries. But, learning of course takes time.” You said, tilting your head, your smile grew wide. “First! We need music.” You walked over to your small old-fashioned record player. You searched through many records of yours, before finding the perfect one. “Ah—!” You hummed, placing the record inside. It was a soft humming tone, and instruments playing in a soft tone.
“I can tell you’ve been waiting for me to ask, my lovely.” Alastor teased lightly, smirking. “Oh yes! Has a lady, you should never ask first.” You giggled at your small joke.
You stepped in front of him. Before slowly reaching out to Alastor’s hand. You placed his hand onto your shoulder, then his other hand on your waist. “You must keep your hands here,” You began, staring up at him. “And I’ll keep my hands here.” You placed your hand on his shoulder, then your other hand on his upper arm. “We’ll learn other dancing forms later on.” You smile. Alastor, allowed you to do what you needed to do. His eyes followed your every move, like a cat watching a mouse.
“One step like this. Move backward, follow the flow of the music.” You said, looking down at their feet, Alastor followed your instructions. He stumbled a bit, smiling sheepishly. “It's alright, you’re learning dear. You giggled. Moving your left foot in between his legs, before slowly turning. “Once the beat starts to slowly drop, start to turn slowly.” You said, glancing up at him. Alastor’s eyebrows furrow, before slowly turning, his grip on you tighten. “Better..”
“Then we do it again. Expect, we add a few more steps. Once again, follow the beat of the instruments.” You said, before moving your feet slowly. “One step, two steps.” You move your own feet backward, then forward. “I'm confused—dear. I thought I moved back?” Alastor stops, tilting his head to the side. His ears twitched. You smile. “Ah! We both move in sync. You move backward first, then we turn, then I move backward.”
“Ah.” Alastor hummed, his eye twitched. “Don't give up now-! We just got started.”
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“Do you understand now, love?” You asked, smiling sheepishly. You were leaning over a tired Alastor, who was sitting in a chair. His head spinning. “You’re such a drama queen. I told you, learning something takes time!” “Dear, I stepped on your feet how many times?!” “Oh Alastor…”
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A/N: tehehe i put the titled in the fic😉
#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel#x you#alastor x y/n#alastor x reader#alastor#hazbin alastor x reader
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softie — choi seungcheol | 890 words | fluff
#melonpan :c also, my need to include marriage in every other fic of mine needs to be studied.
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
"are you sure it wasn't as bad as i thought it was?"
you stop combing through seungcheol's hair with your fingers. "yes."
"really?"
"yes."
"i mean, i broke a plate, stepped on your mom's foot and—"
"i was there."
"—swore in front of your dad."
"i know, baby."
"promise it's okay?"
"seungcheol, if you ask me that question one more time, i'm going to eat up all of your melonpan."
seungcheol tilts his head up to look at you from where he's sitting on the floor between your legs. he tries to put on his best hurt face. "what happened to cheol? or love of my life? or even...pookie?"
you laugh. "you want me to call you pookie?"
"...no. but anything's better than my name."
"no," you say, resuming combing through his hair and detangling a particularly stubborn clump. "your name is lovely, even if you insist it isn't."
"it's just so...serious. it sounds like i'm going to get scolded."
"it's you. and i like it. but tonight didn't go bad at all, baby."
the thing is, seungcheol's never met anyone's parents before. at least, not since he became an idol. you had been telling him your parents should be more worried about hosting an idol at their place for dinner but seungcheol had been stressing about it for a couple of weeks, worrying about what to wear and what to gift and how to sit, till you held him by the shoulders and very sternly told him to be himself, and nothing more.
he's done just that tonight, and he's landed himself in this predicament now.
"you're just saying that to make me feel better."
you sigh and your hands stop working in his hair again. now seungcheol can't have that, so he turns around and clings to your leg.
"cheollie!" you say immediately, ruffling his hair. he lets go. "what, are you really that scared of what my parents think of you?"
"yes? they're your parents. and i met them for the first time yesterday. what if they tell me to stay away from their only child for the rest of my life because they didn't like my shirt yesterday?"
you fish out the television remote from behind the cushion and toss it into his lap. "show me a fancam of yours while i finish working on your hair. choose one you really like."
that doesn't sound good. why would you ignore what he said in favour of something else? unless—
"did they—"
"choi seungcheol."
that shuts him up. he scrolls through some videos on youtube and picks one he thinks looks good. you pull out a rubberband and gently tie his hair into a ponytail. seungcheol swears you have magic hands, because you've never once hurt him whenever you've volunteered to do his hair.
"done," you say, pushing him a bit forward so you can stand up.
seungcheol groans. "don't leave me alone."
"i'm just...going to get us some water?"
"i'm having a crisis here."
you giggle and sit back down, tugging at him till he climbs up and rests against your chest, both of you watching his videos of choice together. your grip on him tightens even though you don't say anything. seungcheol keeps quiet about it for exactly two and a half fancams before he twists to look at you.
you have a goofy smile on your face, and he feels kind of silly for wishing you were looking at the real life him, and not the one on the screen.
"what is it?"
"what?" you ask, looking down at him.
"you're smiling. at him."
you snort. "that's you."
"yeah, but i'm right here."
your eyes crinkle when you smile at him. seungcheol just feels like he's stepped into bright sunshine after a cold day.
"i was watching some edits of yours yesterday."
"oh. were they any good?"
"really good. but i wonder what your fans would think if they got to know you're the biggest softie in the world. none of that supposed alpha stuff here."
seungcheol pouts, but he can't keep it up for long. he's pretty much at his best when he's with you. you're the reason why he can physically feel his shoulders relax most days. you're also the reason he finds himself smiling a lot more.
"supposed?"
"well..."
seungcheol turns to bite your arm gently. you push his head away, not before pressing a kiss to it. "stop worrying so much, okay? you didn't mess up anything with my parents. do you have any idea of how much my mom liked you?"
"she...did?"
"yeah. and my dad asked me when we're going to visit again."
seungcheol feels his worries dissipate. you don't look like you're saying it to placate him, but...
"are you..."
"...sure? cheol, my mother literally asked me when we're planning to get married. i think that's enough for surety, isn't it?"
seungcheol swears he can feel his heart beating fast enough to escape his chest. of course he'd love nothing more than marrying you one day, even if it's a long way down both of your futures.
"hm," is all he can say, settling back down against you. he doesn't mind you smiling at the version of him on the television. he's the one who's going to get to marry you, after all.
#this maaaan#choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol fluff#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt#svt fluff#coups#scoups fluff#coups fluff#fluff#waldau writes#🍃 — svt
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Think about this spoiled reader who parents gave her everything but when she meet Ony he shows her that it doesn’t work like that with him !!!!!!! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾
YES YES YESSSSS
you didn’t see yourself as a spoiled girl. your parents just loved you so much they gave you everything you wanted because they wanted you to have it. regardless, since they raised you with the thought that you’d be handed everything you wanted in life, it was very hard for you to keep a boyfriend. the men you’ve messed with either couldn’t handle you, couldn’t afford you, or both and you were sick of it. that was until you met your current boyfriend onyankopon.
you and ony have been going on dates here and there and they have been great. he always pays, always drives, and never has you lift a finger. you were living the sweet life and got to be the same “spoiled” girl you were with your parents. the two of you made it official five months ago and there hasn’t been any problems since. he fucked you the way you wanted, bought you what you wanted, and always made sure you were just happy as could be.
“ooouuu these are pretty!” you squealed as you practically snatched the pretty boots off the rack. ony chuckled behind you, loving the way your ass looked in your pretty mini skirt as you waited for a worker to approach you. “mama it’ll be quicker if you just ask em for help. waitin for an employee to see that you want something is crazy” you turned around towards your boyfriend, giving him an annoyed look before letting your irritation fall from your tongue. “well my mom and dad always had the employee come t’me. i never had to go to anybody when they would take me shopping” ony rolled his eyes at you. ‘here she go again’ he thought as he quietly walked away from you and too an employee.
as he came back with the woman behind him, he was annoyed to see you already trying on the pair of boots. “ma why you ain’t tell me someone came to help you” his annoyance was beginning to grow as he watched you roll your eyes at him before sliding your foot into the other boot. “didn’t feel like looking f’you” before he could lecture you, your disrespectful ass lifted your boot and lightly kicked it onto the thigh of his black sweatpants, the dust from the ground immediately rubbing on the fabric as you spoke without a care in the world “zip it for me papa. wanna walk around in em”
ony never really seen this side of you before, but he didn’t like it. he tightly grabbed your leg before sliding the boot of your foot and putting it down next to you. you rolled your eyes at him for the second time today, mumbling a “niggas can’t do shit right” before putting it back on and zipping them yourself. you pranced around the store, doing spins and twirls in the boots and stopping at every mirror to check yourself out. “i want emmm!” you obnoxiously yelled before walking back towards your irritated partner at the front of the store. “baby i want themmmm” ony looked down at your pretty face, honestly contemplating getting you the boots until he remembered the big ass dusk stain on his pants.
“no” the word when in one ear and out the other as you sat down and took the boots off, putting them back in their box before walking on line for him to pay. ony was honestly surprised at this behavior, his brown eyes watching you wait in line for over ten minutes until you were next up. you whipped your head towards him, already irritated that you had to wait on line before you spoke. “come here i said i want these” the way you spoke to him brought the attention of many other people in the store, including the cashier as she embarrassingly waited for one of you to speak. “m’not buyin you nun mama. you acting crazy right now”
your jaw dropped at his words. there was no way this man just told you no. your eyes instantly began to water with anger as you stomped off the line and i to ony’s face. “yes. you. will. get over there right now and buy me those fucking boots” anger quickly washed over ony’s features as he tried his hardest not to wrap his strong hand around your neck. the best he could do was walk away. everyone in the store took a deep sigh of relief as ony tried his best to deescalate the situation. you weren’t allowing that though. you followed him out the store, practically stomping as you went to grab his wallet from his pocket so you can get your boots. “fine i guess i’ll just take it”
as soon as your hand got close enough, you felt ony yank your arm towards him. his legs not missing a step as he practically dragged you to the family bathroom with him. as he let you go you quickly began raising your voice at him to show your frustration. “you just embarrassed me in there are you crazy? pull your fucking wallet out and get me my boots ony. or are you too broke?” you provoked him with a smirk, your heart beginning to race as you watched a smirk grow on his lips too. “you askin or you telling me mama?”
you were clearly telling him, but you didn’t dare answer his question. dread running through your veins as ony quietly walked behind you in the mirror over the sink. “i knew you was a little spoiled, but ian know you was this bad” your palms began to sweat as you listened to your boyfriends deep voice caress your ears. “m…m’not spoiled” ony ignored you, lightly grabbing the back of your neck before slowly bending you over the sink. of course you let him, his change in demeanor making your pussy soak through your panties. his eyes never left yours in the mirror, a stern look on his face as he slowly began to pull on the waistband on his sweats.
“i know your parents liked t’feed into that bad attitude, buying you whatever your spoiled lil heart wanted” ony slid your panties down as he spoke, his hard dick rubbing against your ass before be began to line himself up with your entrance.
“but i’m not them” he thrusted into you fully, not bothering to cover your mouth from the loud cry you let out into the air. the stinging stretch of his dick without prep made tears immediately well in your eyes as ony fucked you at an unrelenting pace. “you gon learn how to talk t’me cause ian gon give you whatever you want, but ima give you what you need” his thrusts were deep and robust as you tried your hardest not to scream. ony just watched you through the mirror, brown eyes raking over your pretty face and body as he finished his statement.
“right now what you need is a lesson, and im a damn good teacher mama”
it only took fifteen minutes for ony to have you whipped into shape. your legs wobbling at the two of you walked to the car from the mall. you could’ve swore you were hearing little squelching sounds coming from your pussy as ony’s thick load leaked out of you and onto your panties. like the gentleman he is, ony opened your door for you. giving you a kind smile before watching you sit down and put on your seatbelt. as he made his way to his side of the car, he opened the door and threw a small bag holding a new pair of sweatpants in the back before sitting down in his seat. “how you feel princess? been quiet since we left the mall”
you’re eyes quickly moved to his face, his smirk making butterflies move about in your stomach as you quietly replied. “m’fine daddy. want some ice cream” ony’s face quickly went from happy to stern, making your arousal begin to grow at the power he had over you. “c-can we get ice cream please baby?” a small smile grew on his face again as he started the car. ony put a strong hand on your thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot with one hand. “of course we can mama, being so polite” a smile spread onto your face now as you watched your boyfriend drive in the direction of the nearby ice cream shop.
maybe being good wasn’t so bad.
#aot x black reader#onyankopon x black reader#onyankopon x reader#aot onyankopon#onyankopon x black!reader#aot smut#onyankopon smut#aot onyankopon x black reader#onyankopon x black y/n#aot onyankopon x black y/n#aot onyankopon x black!reader#aot onyankopon smut
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its time for the girls to admit that Armin is not some sweet and innocent little angel. that man is most certainly a demon when you get him out of his shell..like he is NASTYYYY 😫
themes: rough sex, aggressive and degrading armin, choking, spit play, bulging, unprotected sex, throat fucking, daddy’s used like twice, pet names (and name calling) him being a sadist and an asshole, along with some other shit
he’s been your friend for years and granted, for a long time, that’s all you saw him as. Quiet, sweet, reliable Armin..who never made too much of a fuss about anything. He was the shy one, the timid boy who didn’t like trouble (which was much more than what could be said of his other buddies.) honestly, you preferred it though.
but it’s one night, when the two of you are quietly studying that it all changes and things get very intense..very quickly!
one minute, the two of you are nose deep in your textbooks and the next, he’s balls deep in you, trying to put you through his fucking mattress like he’s got something to prove. Your nails clawing at his sides, tapping at his abs to slow down but he’s not letting up..
“You better move that fucking hand if you know what’s good for you..it’s not stopping shit so put it down.”
instead, he’s slamming that thick, throbbing cock into your tight little pussy, that’s already sore and soaking wet from his pounding. He’s got your legs pinned back; opened wide so you can both watch all eight inches of him pulsating through the pit of your stomach. His thumb pad rolling against your already sensitive clit as his lips pressed to your gold chain laced ankle and soft instep, thanks to that foot and white painted toes pressed to his chest.
“..hngh! Arminnnn..fuck!”
coaxing out another stream of squirt to join the several others he’s induced out of you with those long, rhythmic thrusts. Even taking that big dick of his out to tap the tip against your folds and make it worse.
the result of constant teasing…swearing that he wasn’t capable of piping you like this. However, he was more than happy to debunk that claim and trust, it didn’t help when you confessed to fucking a friend of his. So he was extra motivated to make you his for good.
“Yes, baby. Keep crying for me..keep begging ‘cause it only turns me on.”
the sight of watching you twitch and flail around amuses him, so much so..he’s put it back in mid orgasm and feels that cunt clamping the base of his shaft. Clasping a hand around your throat, he leans down and snakes his tongue into your mouth; feeding you sloppy kisses and deep strokes.
“Besides, this is exactly what you wanted, right? For me to show you I wasn’t pussy..that I could fuck you better than anyone you’ve ever been with? Well tell me, sweetheart…did I?”
“Y-yes! It’s so good, daddy…fuck!”
laughing and taunting as he slightly restricts your breathing for his own pleasure, watching your brown eyes roll back as you claw at his wrists, shaking your head profusely. It feels so damn good and he’s definitely gotten his point across but he’s far from finished..
in fact, he knows just how he wants to use you next..finally releasing, he moves those same fingers to the side of your face with a few light taps.
“..good answer. Now get up, I’m not done with you.”
his voice much lower in pitch and honestly, deep enough to cause a twitch between your thighs. This new side of him were both frightening and fucking sexy. Grasping the top of your head, he reluctantly pulls out and repositions you to the edge of the bed with your head dangling from it.
once he crawls off the bed, all you see is that massive dick dangling in front of your face and his hands cupped around the back of your neck to support your already dizzy head.
wasting not another second, he places that tip and shaft into your mouth and begins pumping. Not even an hour ago, he was your homeboy and now, you were nothing more than a useless hole to him. An object, a toy to play with and take out all of his frustrations..
he’s having his way and you love it. It’s a given at this point that no one will be able to top him. You could fuck his whole crew and not one could ever compare..
the gulping noises and sloppy sounds of you sucking his cock are driving him crazy. He’s mad with lust and power, having this much dominion over one person’s body. Watching as he sees himself bulge into the center of your throat. Tears streaming down your cheeks only adding fuel to the burning fire.
he can hear you faintly whimpering and whining, causing vibrations around his length. Even clawing at the sheets momentarily but as you’ve come to learn, he doesn’t give a single, secular fuck about your feelings right now.
it didn’t matter how much you gagged, spat or even slapped at his muscular thighs. You were his until he grew bored and let you go.
“I don’t need to hear all that whining, bitch. I need you to eat this dick up..hell, throw up on it for all I care. You just better suck that nut out when I say so.”
the way he’s talking to you, it’s too much to bare…you’ve never seen him so aggressive, so mean and so…focused. But God, do you not want it to end anytime soon. He could have it all night if that’s what he wanted. Just to ensure that the inside of those jaws are nice and lubricated, he tugs out for a split second only to replace it with a long string of his saliva before shoving it back in.
this time, he’s going deeper and a lot faster. Grunting loudly, going crazy until he began to slow up and eventually, hold it in place for a minute. You could feel him sitting stagnant in the back of your throat until there was another faint twitch and his thumbs pressing gently into the sides of your neck.
“…hold still.” The last words he uttered before letting out a loud, guttural moan and a stream of milky cum into your mouth..making you swallow every drop as he emptied his balls. Tossing his head back as he cried out, letting the silky remnants slip down your throat.
“That’s right, swallow it..”
once he finished, you were given a very brief break while he decided his next move. Coughing and heaving, you’d lean back up, trying to catch your breath for a second. But there was no rest for his little slut quite yet. Giving you two light love taps, Armin ushered you to your knees and on all fours.
he’d place his palm into the center of your back to get the arch exactly as he wanted it and from there, he’d prepare to glide back in. Just to make sure that you stayed put, he raise his leg and press it to your head before tugging both arms backwards.
he was straight dogging your shit and at this rate, you wouldn’t be able to move afterwards…a risk well worth the reward.
“..just in case you wanna run from me.” bending down to whisper in your ear before proceeding to push himself in all the way one last time. And if you thought for a second he’d take it easy, you were sadly mistaken. With that thick ass bouncing off the base of his cock, he’d drill your pussy, back with those same strokes that had beaten it sore the first time around.
with all of your limbs in his grasp, (y/n) was only left with the option to scream face first into the sheets to let out those moans and let him know how wonderful of a job he was doing. In and out..one stroke right after the next, he was met with your tight grip and gushy cream all over him. He couldn’t help but to act crazy about it..
“Oh fuuuck..you’re such a perfect fit, baby. It’s like this pussy was made just for me..” crying out as he kneaded his nails into your hips and fucked up into you with all that he had. It was the mist soft and vulnerable you had seen him since this little sex session. It just wouldn’t remain that way..
switching his foot with his fingers, Armin bent down and snatched your head up yet again, as if he were trying to tug the hair from your scalp. Barely coherent, you were met with his very menacing glare and smile.
“Which means I better not catch you giving it to anybody else again. Understood?..” the words resonating throughout your body like a spell he had cast and there was no way you were breaking it.
“I said do you understand? Talk..”
“Yes, daddy. It’s your pussy..it’s all yours..”
between the weight of his body burrowing down on you and the intense pressure swelling in your heat, you couldn’t handle another second and after hearing you make that statement, neither could he.
he felt on top of the world.
curling over your entire frame, Armin made a few more final strokes before commanding that you come all over his dick and you didn’t hesitate.
“Oh my God! I’m coming..” screaming with all that you had left, (y/n) let out the last of the wetness onto his shaft and the sheets. Falling limp shortly thereafter, you’d feel yourself become less full.
but you’d hear those sexy grunts of his rang out again as he jerked his cock, wringing his wrist around until your back was met with the warmth of that white cream against your perfect brown skin.
it was a beautiful sight and one he wanted to see whenever he felt like from now on…
“..who’s soft now, sweetheart?”
#black fem reader#black fanfic writer#black fanfiction#smut fanfiction#black reader smut#black reader#aot x black reader#armin x black reader#armin x fem reader#armin attack on titan#armin smut#smut writing#shingeki no kyojin#wattpad#anime#fanfic#armin x y/n#armin artlert#attack on titan armin#minors fuck off#degrade kink#roughfuck
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Chaos
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: A trip to Sainsbury's
Sainsbury's is a magical place.
It's made even more magical when you go there without Momma and Morsa.
You zoom down the aisles, barely keeping pace with Sam and Guro as Erin runs with the cart. Millie's a few steps behind, taking a video as Erin hits Guro and she falls down like a bowling pin.
You giggle with Sam as Millie howls with laughter as she puts a bunch of cakes into the cart.
"It's not funny!" Guro tries to say but Erin rams the cart into her again and she falls to the ground.
"It's so funny!" Erin insists, finally helping Guro up as Sam brings you over to the section with the squirty cream and milk.
"Hey! How many of these were we supposed to get?"
"Milkshakes!" You exclaim," Can I get a milkshake, Sam?"
Momma never lets you have milkshakes. She says they make you too hyper and she worries that your belly won't like it if you drink too many of them.
"Course! How many do you want? Ooh, there's different flavours."
"One of each!" You exclaim, letting Sam lift you up so you can grab some and sweep them into Erin's cart.
"Perfect choice!"
Your Momma and Morsa told you this morning that everyone was having a little celebration for some staff member's birthday or something so you got to go to the local Sainsbury's to get party food.
"Ooh! Ooh!" Guro says, pointing up at the big pack of caramel trifles on the top shelf. "I think we should get one of them!"
"Why stop at one?" Millie scoffs, pulling out eight. "If we got too much then I'm sure we can all just take some home."
Your legs start to get a bit tired as Sam drags you up and down the aisles ahead of the others so you make the universal sign of pick me up please and end up sitting inside the cart rather than the little seat it came with.
Erin makes race car noises with her mouth as she pushes the cart faster and more recklessly than any of the other shoppers, making sure to ram into Guro at every opportunity.
It makes you giggle hysterically in between ordering Millie to put everything you want into the cart.
She's happy to do as you say and gets very excited when you ask for the popping candy that Momma says will rot your teeth.
"What else do we need?" Erin asks, staring down at the list that they were meant to be sticking to.
The entire cart was filled to the brim with you sitting on top of a box of beers, munching happily at the little cupcake Guro opened for you.
"Think we've got everything," You say, opening your mouth so Millie can pour some milkshake down your throat.
"Did we get ice cream?" Guro asks," Everything's better with ice cream."
"I love ice cream," Sam agrees," They've got cookie dough."
"Let's get ice cream," Millie says.
By the time you've gotten everything into the car, you don't really want to sit in your car seat. Hanging out with the big girls makes you want to be one of them and big girls don't sit in car seats.
"Can she do that?" Guro whispers as you stubbornly stand in front of her, arms crossed over your chest," Not sit in the seat?"
"Er..." Sam says," I'm not sure. I don't think so?"
"Not sitting in it!" You insist, stamping your foot," Not! Not! Not!"
"You're not sitting in it?" Millie asks as she approaches," Are you sure?" She hoists you up and tries to buckle you in while you're distracted but you grab at her arms to stop her.
"No! No! No!"
You kick your feet out, suddenly crashing from your sugar high, as your voice gets higher and more screechy.
"Alright," Millie says, picking you up and sitting you on her lap in the passenger seat and clipping the belt over both of you," This good, kid?"
You think for a moment before turning to look at Erin. "My drinks please," You say, any hint of sadness now gone as you get yourself comfortable on Millie's lap and sip at the drinks your Momma would never let you get.
By the time you get back to the training grounds, Momma and Morsa are waiting outside.
Momma's face goes a little red when Millie lets you out and then Morsa's gets even redder when she watches how much Erin, Guro and Sam unload from the car.
"So..." Millie says," It looks worse than it is."
"You didn't put her in her car seat?!" Pernille demands, holding you close and tucking you into her neck. "You could have crashed! She wasn't wearing a seatbelt!"
"She was wearing a seatbelt!" Millie insists," I'm not completely irresponsible!"
"How much did you buy?" Magda was asking the other three girls," I gave you a list! I specifically remember giving you a list! Do none of you listen to me when I'm not around?"
You've wormed yourself out of Momma's neck as she was yelling and you hold a hand out to Millie. "My milkshake, please."
"You bought her a milkshake?!"
"It was Sam!"
#woso x reader#hardersson x reader#pernille harder x reader#pernille harder#magdalena eriksson x reader#magdalena eriksson#woso community#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso#The Big Adventures Universe
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Dirty Little Stories » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out what a dirty girl Y/N is when he finds her Tumblr blog.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, (f receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, metal arm kink, Bucky’s dog tags, name calling (slut), pet names (doll, babydoll, doll face)
Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.
Getting used to modern day technology was difficult for Bucky, but with help from you, it was easier than he thought. Now he’s able to talk, text, and do whatever he wants now. As of right now, Bucky was catching up on stuff he missed throughout the years. As he was scrolling through Google, he came across a link that’s connected to Tumblr so he tapped on it to see what it was. That’s when he came across something interesting. He found a blog that has particularly dirty things, meaning the person who runs the blog writes a lot of smut. Bucky tapped on one of the links that took him to one of the stories. His mind was nearly blown when he finished it. He went back to read another one and another one. That’s when something caught his eye. He recognized the name of the person’s blog. The name “Y/N” was displayed in the bio of the blog. It didn’t take long for Bucky to figure out that the blog is ran by his girlfriend, who isn’t as innocent as he thought she was.
“Oh you’re in so much trouble when you get home, doll.” Bucky says to himself.
Bucky continued to read the stories you have posted on your blog. He didn’t like the fact that you were writing and fantasizing about other men, but he will admit that your writing is very well written.
“Bucky, I’m home!” Your voice echoed through the apartment.
You kicked the door shut with your foot and went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. Bucky shut his phone off and put it in his pocket, making his way to the kitchen.
“Hey, doll.” Bucky kisses your lips. “How was the store?” He asks.
“It was alright. It wasn’t as crowded as last week.” You tell him. “Anything interesting happened here?” You asked.
“Not really.” He starts. “I did come across something interesting.” He says, leaning against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms over his chest.
“What was it?” You asked, putting something in the refrigerator.
“Have you heard of something called Tumblr?” He asks.
You stopped in your tracks, nearly dropping the gallon of milk in your hands.
“I- uhh may have came across it a couple times. Why?” You say nervously.
“Well, I seen this blog on there and this person writes stories that are sexual.” He says.
“Oh, th-that’s cool.” You say with a stutter.
“The person also has the same first name as you.” He says.
Your eyes widened. Bucky noticed how you went quiet. He pushed himself off the counter and approached you. Your breathing got heavy when you felt his presence behind you. Bucky’s body was against your back. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, trapping you in between his body and the counter. You shivered when you felt his breath against your neck.
“Is there something you want to tell me, doll?” Bucky asks, whispering in your ear.
“N-No.” You say.
“Really? Cause it sounds like you do.” He says.
“I-I don’t know what you mean.” You say, playing dumb.
“Don’t lie to me, babydoll. You exactly know what I’m talking about.” He says.
You gasped when you felt his bulge against your ass. It took everything in you to not give in and tell him that you’re the one writing those stories.
“I think…” Bucky’s right hand slides down the front of your body, stopping on your clothed pussy. “You’re the one who’s writing those dirty stories.” He says, applying pressure to your clit.
“It’s me! I’m the one who’s writing them!” You blurted out, not being able to take it anymore.
“I would’ve never thought that my doll has such a dirty mind.” He says with a chuckle.
Bucky spun you around and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom. He dropped you on the bed causing you to bounce a couple times. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed so your legs were dangling from it. His metal fingers tilted your head up so you were looking into his eyes that were once a beautiful blue which now were darker.
“I should punish you for being such a dirty girl, but instead, I’m going to have my fun with you.” He says.
You nodded. Bucky pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your lacy bra to him. He pushed you back so you were laying on the bed. He leaned over you, his dog tags dangling in your face. He placed kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasped when you felt his teeth graze your skin. He bit down hard enough to create a hickey. His hand blindly found its way to your back and expertly unclasping your bra, discarding it somewhere in the room. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples. You let out a moan when you felt his metal fingers pinch your nipple, sending a new sensation through your body. He moved his lips further down your body, stopping at the waistband of your leggings. Bucky hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down your legs, along with your soaked panties. He got on his knee next to the bed and spread your legs open, displaying your wetness to him. You moaned when you felt his fingers rub in between your wet folds.
“So wet for me.” Bucky says.
He moved his face closer to your pussy. His tongue slid in between your folds, moaning at your taste against his tongue. His tongue circled around your clit a few times before he latched his lips on it and began to suck on it. Your hands flew down to his head, tugging at his hair.
“Oh my god, yes!” You moaned, threw your head back in pleasure.
If you knew one thing about Bucky, it’s that he knows how to eat pussy. He took your pleasure seriously.
You were caught off guard when one of his metal fingers slid past your entrance. Your jaw dropped, breathy moans fell from your lips. The cool metal of his fingers against your walls felt better than any sex you have ever used. Bucky took his lips off your clit, but keeping his metal fingers inside of you, moving them at a painfully slow pace.
“When were you going to tell me about those dirty little stories of yours? Huh, doll?” Bucky asks.
“I-I don’t know.” You say.
Bucky stopped his movements with his fingers causing you to let out a frustrated whine. He chuckled at your frustrated state as he stood up. You watched as he took off his shirt causing you to lick your lips. You leaned up, touching his perfectly sculpted body. Bucky stopped you by grabbing your wrist.
“No touching, doll face.” He let go of your wrist. “Turn around and bend over the bed.” He orders.
You did as you were told and bent over the bed. You the sound of his belt hitting the floor causing you to look over your shoulder. You watched as he took off his jeans and boxers. You licked your lips at the sight of his hard cock.
“Face forward.” Bucky turns your head forward. “Spread ‘em.” He says, tapping your inner thigh.
You spread your legs apart, giving Bucky more access. Bucky rubs his hands over your ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze causing you to gasp.
“All this time, I thought my doll was a good girl.” Bucky says, rubbing his hand up and down your spine.
“I am a good girl.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear you.
“You are, but as of right now, you’re a dirty little slut.” He says.
Bucky leaned over your body, his dog tags lightly brushed against your back. His metal hand went to the front of your body and down to your clit. His metal fingers lightly rubbed your clit in circles causing your pussy to clench around nothing.
“I know how much you love my metal arm so let’s see how long it takes you to cum just from me rub your little clit.” Bucky says in almost a whisper.
Bucky’s metal fingers applied more pressure to your clit and began rubbing it in circles. You gripped the blankets on the bed from the amount of pleasure Bucky was giving you just from his metal fingers.
“Bucky, please I want you to—” A moan left your lips causing you to cut your sentence short.
“You want me to what, doll?” He asks.
“Fuck me please!” You begged.
“Not until you cum on my metal fingers.” He says.
You opened your mouth to say something, but a moan left your mouth instead when two of his metal fingers slid past your entrance while his metal thumb continued to rub your clit. Your walls immediately clenched around his fingers.
“I know you want to cum. Just do it and I’ll give you my cock.” He whispers in your ear.
It didn’t take long for you to cum. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as you came hard on his metal fingers.
“There you go. Good girl.” Bucky praises.
You whimpered when he took his metal fingers out of your pussy. Bucky brought his metal fingers up to his mouth and tasted your juices, moaning at the taste. He then rubbed his cock in between your wet folds, his tip bumping your almost sensitive clit causing you to whimper. He lined his cock up at your entrance, slowly sliding it in, inch by inch until he was fully inside of you. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size. You nodded your head, giving him permission to start thrusting. Bucky gripped your hips and slowly pulled his cock out until his tip was left inside of you. With a hard thrust, his whole cock was back inside of you. His thrusts were rough, but loving.
“Such a dirty little slut, aren’t ya, babydoll? Say you’re a dirty little slut.” He says.
“I’m dirty little slut!” You moaned.
“You’re my dirty little slut.” Bucky practically growls.
Bucky leaned down, kissing along the back of your neck, working his way around to your lips. His right hand left your hip, his fingers gripped your jaw firmly and turned your head to capture your lips in a much needed kiss. One of your hands reached up to the back of his head to intensify the kiss. Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging at it causing Bucky to moan against your lips. Bucky’s metal hand left your hip and moved back down to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles.
“Bucky! Oh fuck!” You moaned.
“I love the way you moan my name. Keep saying it.” He says, kissing just below your ear.
“Bucky!” You moaned again.
The tip of his cock hit that one spot inside of you causing your pussy to clench around his cock making him moan at the feeling.
“I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” Bucky moans.
Bucky’s metal fingers applied more pressure to your clit, roughly rubbing it. Your hands clutched the blankets on the bed and your toes curled at the feeling. You felt your orgasm building up again.
“Bucky, I— oh fuck! Please let me cum!” You whined desperately.
“I don’t know if I should let you. You never told me what a dirty girl you are.” Bucky says teasingly.
“I’ll show you everything if you want! Just please let me cum!” You whined again.
“Alright then. Cum for me, doll.” He says.
Bucky’s fingers moved faster against your clit, helping you chase your high. Your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came harder than you did the first time. Bucky was now chasing his high.
“Such a good girl for me.” Bucky praises. “Gonna fill this little pussy up till it’s dripping with my cum.” He says in your ear.
“Yes please!” You moaned.
“Of course you fucking want it.” He chuckles. “Dirty girl.” He growls.
Your name left his lips as he came inside of you. Bucky thrusted a few more times before stopping and leaning against your back, his arms caging you in. You two stood there panting and catching your breath.
“You still with me, doll face?” Bucky moved your hair from your face. “I didn’t break you, did I?” He asks.
“Mmm, I’m good.” You hummed. “Just a little sensitive.” You say.
“Let’s get cleaned up and we can cuddle for the rest of the day.” He says and kissed your cheek.
Bucky slowly pulled his cock out of you causing you to whine. You tried standing up, but your legs were so wobbly causing you to lose your balance. Bucky was quick to catch you. He picked you up bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom for a nice warm bath. After you guys got cleaned up, Bucky gave you one of his t-shirts and got underneath the blankets with you, pulling you close to him. You snuggled yourself against his side and laid your head on his chest. You played with his dog tags.
“Just out of curiosity, how much of my smut did you read?” You asked, tilting your head to look up at him.
“A few.” Bucky answers. “I have to say, you’re quite the writer.” He says.
“Oh god.” You say, hiding your face against his chest.
“I mean it, doll.” He says, lifting your head up to look at him.
You leaned up and kissed his lips sweetly.
“Let me know if you need any inspiration for your dirty little stories.” Bucky says against your lips.
“Bucky!” You whined, lightly smacking his chest causing him to chuckle.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
#sergeant james buchanan barnes#sergeant james barnes#sergeant barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james barnes#bucky barnes#winter soldier#sebastian stan#sebastian stan characters#the avengers#avengers#marvel#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine
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A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader
Part 1 - The Seal in the Bar
Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?
*the GIF belongs to @unicornships , but I found it on Pinterest for some reason*
A/N: So here we are! I am absolutely blown away by the response that my teaser generated, holy shit! And because you all seem to love Bear as much as I do, and because you crazy people have brought me to over 100 followers in 2 days, I figured that I would release Part 1 sooner than I planned!
MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death (kill count and maybe a few other things), Jake being a flirt (which is it’s own warning)
Word Count: 2.5k
Read on Wattpad or AO3
Teaser >> Part 2
===
It was a miserable day when Jake walked into the Hard Deck. Training had been canceled due to shit weather and no matter how much of a workout he had had earlier, he was still as nervous as a scared cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The weather wasn’t helping either. It had been raining nearly all day, letting up for maybe 20 minutes at a time before it came pouring down again. Climate change was a serious concept, but right now it was fucking with his plans and his job and Jake very much wanted it to stop. Taking a quick glance around, he saw that there were a few patrons in the bar, mostly older men just sitting and drinking in near silence, the jukebox playing some classic rock song just loud enough to be heard. He had promised to meet Coyote here around 5 and seeing as he was early, Jake went ahead to order a drink. “Hey Penny.”
“Hangman,” Penny replied with a smile. “Your usual?”
“Nah, not drinking tonight. Too antsy. Just a water and Javy’s usual, thanks.” The blond glanced around the room as Penny went to grab his drinks and his eyes fell on a woman sitting quietly in the corner of the room, silently watching each and every person in the bar with an almost clinical gaze. His curiosity got the better of him and Jake grabbed his order before making his way over to the corner table. “That seat taken?” He asked with his usual sly grin on his face.
The woman glanced up at him, eyes flicking over him quickly before quirking a brow. “And what if it was?” she replied coolly, a narrow gaze pinning him to the spot. She took a sip of the drink in front of her, eyes never leaving his face.
“Well I’d like to think that I’d be better company than your imaginary friend here,” Jake said, trying to regain his footing. The woman was intimidating; sharp eyes that seemed to never miss a thing and a face that he recognized as one he made when the weariness hit on occasion.
“Is that painful for you, Flyboy? The thinking?”
Jake was taken aback by her snark. Normally he’d respond, fire an insult of two back, but he kept his mouth shut for once, watching for even just a flicker of emotion on the woman’s face. But there wasn’t any. She just looked bored. So Jake did something that he would almost never do, he walked away, set his drinks down on a table near the door and waved Javy down when his friend walked in.
A few drinks later and the bar had begun to fill with people. Other Daggers had popped up, joining Jake and Coyote and Jake was relieved to fall back into his cocky pilot facade he used in public. It was only when he went back up to the bar some hours later to grab another round for the group that he saw her again. “Grab another round, Penny?”
“Give me just a minute, Hangman.” Penny gave him a nod and a smile before adding ice to a cup for someone else and handing it off.
“Hangman huh?” A voice near him spoke up. A quick turn and there stood the woman from earlier. This time however, she was standing up, and he admired the tone and definition of her arm under the tight black shirt she wore. “Must be military then.”
“What gave it away?” He asked, glancing over at his friends before looking back at her.
A sharp grin. “Maybe the fact that you hang out with guys named ‘Coyote’ and ‘Payback’. That, and you just have the look about you,” she finished, taking a swig of her drink.
“You got it right, sweetheart,” Jake flirted, leaning his forearms on the bar and turning to look at her. “One of the best in the room.”
Bear knew that there was a gleam in her eye. God, she loved shooting cocky men down and watching them run back to their friends, tails tucked between their legs. But something about this Hangman made her curious and she didn’t yet know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. “Is that so? So what makes a fly-boy like you better than most people in the room?” she asked, giving him a teasing look.
A grin crossed Jake’s face and he was so sure that he was in. “Attended Top Gun twice, two confirmed air-to-air kills, plus my good looks and endless amounts of good ole-fashioned Southern charm, sweetheart.”
“Wow. Two whole kills all by yourself? That’s pretty impressive,” Bear nodded, schooling her face so as to not burst out laughing. “Little ole me only has about 60 confirmed kills, but I’m sure it’s much more difficult in a plane.”
Jake, who had been grabbing the beer bottles from Penny, froze. “I’m sorry, 60?”
“Yup, all by myself too.” The mocking slipped free and the smirk on her face was wide and dangerous.
“Who are you?” He asked, concern flooding over his face. Jake knew that the look on his face was one of pure shock, and holy shit was he both terrified and turned on at the thought of this woman being far more dangerous than he was.
Bear grinned, finishing her drink and pulling her wallet out to pay. “Take a guess,” she replied.
“Well I was going to say one hell of a pilot, but I would have heard of you if you were a Navy pilot.”
“Maybe I’m Air Force,” she teased as she watched the conflicting emotions cross Hangman’s face.
“Nuh uh. No way.” Jake shook his head immediately in disgust. “There’s no way you’re Chair Force, not a chance.”
“Like you Navy boys don’t also sit in chairs,” came the retort. “But you are right, I’m not, as you put it, Chair Force.”
“So who are you?” He asked, ignoring the barb thrown his way and pausing to look at her. “You aren’t a pilot, that’s for damn sure, so who and what are you?”
“Bagman! What the hell is taking so long?” A shout came from over by the pool tables.
Rolling his eyes, Jake turned and yelled back “Jus’ wait a damn minute!” Looking back at the woman beside him, Jake nodded for her to tell him.
“Seals,” she replied. “Navy Seal Team Three.”
His green eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know that there were women in the Seals.”
“Not many. Less than 3% to be exact.” There was pride in her voice and Bear knew that. She had worked incredibly hard to be taken seriously during training and even now as the Commander of Seal Team Three, working in the Middle East and Southwest Asia. Her skills were necessary for the survival of her team and herself. Plus putting damn near three years into the US Navy Sniper School made it very clear just how dangerous she was and could be.
“Okay…umm…wow. I jus’…wow.” Jake was in awe, right here in front of him was a woman who was both badass and hot as hell, and the best part? She didn’t back down and made him work for every step. “That’s seriously badass. Why haven’t I heard about you or any of the others?”
“Cause we’re usually kept secret. If enemy states know that there are women on the teams, then we have targets on our backs. But I can tell you, because no one will believe you,” Bear smirked before continuing, “And yeah, I know it’s pretty badass. I worked hard for it. Just like you did for your two kills.” And with a wink, she walked off, disappearing into the crowd near the bar, leaving Jake speechless.
He made his way back to the pool tables, beers in hand and a shocked look on his face. Once he set the bottles down, Jake looked up and began to glance around for any sign of the Seal he had been speaking to. “Who you lookin’ for?” Coyote asked, stepping up next to him.
“A Navy Seal.”
Coyote did a double take. Swallowing his drink, he asked “Did you just say a Navy Seal? Where the hell did you find one of those?”
“Up at the bar not even five minutes ago.”
“The fuck you doin’ chattin’ up a Navy Seal?” Coyote was looking at him like he was crazy. “Don’t they like have three dozen ways to murder you with a rusty spoon?”
“Probably. But she was hot. And seemed to be interested, so who knows if I’ll be a rusty spoon victim,” Jake replied. Not so deep down he was hoping that he’d get the chance to see her again, but stumbled over the sudden realization that he didn’t know her name. Well, that would be a problem for the next time. Turning back to the group, Jake found them watching him with curious looks. “What?”
“Next time that Seal comes back,” Phoenix told him, “Make sure she says hi. I want to know whose ass to protect when you wind up dead in a back alley.”
“Et tu, Nix?” Jake gaped at her, mimicking a pearl-clutching older woman before his face fell back into its usual cocky grin. “You’ll meet her, and you’ll regret saying that.”
Phoenix laughed. “I’ve got the power of being a woman on my side. Bet she doesn’t often get the chance to chat about her experience as a woman in the Navy with someone who understands,” she replied with a shrug. “Now are we playing or what?”
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Keep your shirt on,” Jake drawled, setting his drink down and grabbing the pool cue from her outstretched hand. “Ready?”
“Fuck yeah.” A sharp grin from Phoenix had him smirking and if he spent the night trying to beat her, that was no one’s business but his own.
===
Training the next day was brutal. Maverick was clearly playing catch up from missing a day of training and he was making everyone hurt. “Come on Hangman, you’ll have to do better than that!” Phoenix had teased over the headset. “Gotta improve your skills or the hot Seal lady won’t be impressed!”
Jake rolled his eyes, knowing that everyone on the ground listening would hear him if he replied. So he stayed quiet, pulling the throttle up allowing him to go up and over Phoenix and Bob to try and lock on, but failed when Phoenix rolled out of the way. She led them in a chase across the sky, neither plane being ‘hit’, but neither pilot lost.
“What the hell was that?” Bob asked when they landed. “Where did you guys find a Navy Seal?”
Phoenix chuckled, “Bagman found her at the bar last night. He’s smitten.” Having landed back on the airstrip and taxiing it back towards its storing bay with the other Dagger aircraft, she unclipped herself from the harness and jumped down only to be met by Hangman standing right behind her. “Jesus fuck!” She yelled, right as Bob shouted “What the shit man?”
“Nothin’. Jus’ creepin’. Wanted to freak you out a bit,” he said with a shrug and a mischievous grin crossing his face.
“Asshole.”
“That’s me Nix, that’s me.” And Jake wandered off in the direction of the classroom to hear what Mav had to say.
Bob hopped down and watched him walk off. “You think he’s aware that a Navy Seal has standards?”
Phoenix snorted. “Unlikely. But maybe that’s why he’s trying to sneak around here so he can impress her. I won’t tell him that sneaking up on a Seal is a death sentence.” She pulled her helmet off, tucking it under her arm. “C’mon Bobert, let's get ripped into by Mav.”
“If you’re not telling, I’m not telling,” Bob replied with his own grin. “And do we have to? I’d much rather stay here where it’s somewhat safe with my ego intact, thank you.”
“Right? I would too if Mav wouldn’t send out a search party to find us,” she quipped. “Come on, better late than never.”
“I think the Seal would disagree with you.” But he followed Natasha anyway, trying not to drag his heels to avoid what he was sure would be the telling off of his life.
===
Unsurprisingly, Bear was also on base. After all, this was the only Navy base on Coronado Island, so it made sense that all Navy personnel would be stationed together. What she wasn’t expecting was to run into a pair of Navy pilots as she walked back to her car. “Watch it,” she grumbled, shouldering her way past the man and woman.
“There are Seals on this base?”
“Might want to get your eyes checked there, cause I’m not in-fucking-visible,” she retorted.
“Hold up, sorry. Are you the Seal that Bagman spent half of last night talking about?” The man asked in a quiet voice.
Softening her approach just a smidge, Bear turned and nodded. “I am. Something you wanted to ask?”
“No, not at all. Just curious as to who got our precious Bagman all shook up,” the woman replied, before extending a hand to shake. “I’m Phoenix, this is Bob.”
“Good to meet you. I’m Bear.”
“Bear?” The woman known now as Phoenix asked, confusion crossing her face. “How’d you get that?”
Bear grinned. “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” She offered, eyes flicking to the tall quiet man who stood awkwardly off to the side. “I don’t bite, Bob. Not unless you want me to,” she added with a wink.
Bob flushed, and shook his head. “Pretty sure I’d get punched.”
Bear gave him a look. “We’ll revisit that later, but continuing on. You were saying Phoenix?”
With a reluctant sigh, Phoenix explained how she’d had to make an emergency landing when her engines caught fire, resulting in a fiery tail across the sky. “Bird on fire, Phoenix. Same difference.”
The other woman chuckled to herself. “That’s a good one. Bear is because I’m cranky as fuck when I get up in the morning,” she told them.
Bob grinned at her explanation. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, but that is great.”
“I should be heading off. Lots of meetings tomorrow and all, but it was good to meet you both. Maybe I’ll see you around.” With a wave, Bear headed back to her car. “Oh, and one last thing, if it ever gets out to Hangman you met me, don’t tell him my name. He has to work for that one,” she said loudly, turning to walk backwards.
“Sounds like a plan,” Phoenix called back, giving her a quick wave. Quietly to Bob, she whispered “Bagman is in for an uphill climb if he wants to even have a chance with her.”
“I know,” Bob whispered back. “It’s going to be great.”
===
A/N: So many thanks to @startrekfangirl2233, @dakotakazansky, and @sarahsmi13s for being the most incredible beta readers ever! I love you all so much!
And to all my beautiful readers: my inbox is open so come and scream at me in reblogs, comments, or DMs, I promise I will get to you all!
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I totally didn't write this with a fever.
wc: 815, Masterpost, Shopping Montage
“What do you think, parrots and way too many leaves or palm trees and waves?” Danny said, holding the two horrifically patterned Hawaiian shirts up in front of him.
They were standing in one of Crime Alley’s better thrift stores. While Danny had agreed to let Jason buy him some clothing, he had insisted it be at thrift stores. He wasn’t ‘going to let Jason spend that much money on clothing’, he claimed.
Jason figured that meant that Danny hadn’t clocked who he was yet.
Danny waggled the offensive shirts again.
“Tuesday…”
“Ah, I see, clearly it is option number three then,” Danny said somberly before dramatically pulling out a third shirt behind the other two and, “unicorns, rainbows, and hibiscus!”
It was eye searingly bright— like a pack of highlighters had thrown up on it— and clearly whoever had designed it had never seen an ungulate, rainbow, or hibiscus flower in their lives.
“No. No, you are not getting that because I am buying it for my fashion disaster of a brother. He’ll love it.”
“Really?” Danny asked, nose wrinkling adorably as he looked down at the shirt in his hand.
“Trust me, if you knew him, you wouldn’t be doubting it.” Besides, it stopped Danny from getting it even as a joke.
“Huh. Sounds like some brother.”
“That’s an understatement,” Jason said, taking the unicorn shirt and hanging the other two up. “Why don’t we start with pants. Three pairs at least.”
Danny scrambled after Jason. “Three pairs? That means I’d have four if the blood comes out.”
“It will come out.”
“Then that’s four! And that’s way too many.”
“One pair for every two days and a back up pair if you don’t get laundry done or lose another pair to a rogue attack,” Jason explained, finding the jean section. “What size are you and what type do you like. Baggy, boot cut, skinny?”
Danny stared down at the tables of jeans, looking more than a little lost. “Um, blue? Blue is good?”
“Disaster, Tuesday,” Jason said. He sized Danny up before picking out a half dozen jeans and shoving them at the other. “Try these on.”
“Jason, I really don’t—”
“Tuesday, I’m getting you three pairs of jeans. You might as well at least make sure they’re comfortable. Go try on the pants. If these don’t work, we’ve got others to try.”
“I, um, okay,” Danny said with a little nod and disappeared into the fitting booth.
As Jason grabbed another few pairs of pants, he had to wonder when the last time that Danny actually went shopping was from how he was reacting. Having to try on the jeans to make sure they fit was pretty basic. Hoping to make sure Danny really had enough clothing, Jason grabbed a few shirts to add to the pile. Mostly he stuck with basics, but he tossed in a few shirts that seemed nerdy in a way that an engineer might like. He pushed the pile under the edge of the fitting room curtain with his foot.
“What— I don’t—”
“Just be good and try on the shirts,” Jason ordered, as gently as he could, then he leaned against the wall opposite of the little line of changing booths to wait.
The sound of the curtain pulling open had Jason looking up from his phone. Danny stood just inside the booth, tugging down at the hem of the dark red henley where it set over the navy skinny cut jeans.
Danny shifted on socked feet. (Jason made note of the holes in the toes.) “I don’t know if…”
“Gives me a spin, Tuesday,” Jason said, tucking his phone in his pocket. “You act like you’ve never gone clothes shopping before.”
“Been a good few years,” Danny drawled, but spun as he was told. The pants did surprising favors for Danny’s ass for being thrift store pants.
“Never had that sudden growth spurt?” Jason teased.
Danny huffed. “I’m a short king.”
“Well, your Majesty, put both those in the yes pile and go try on some more.” Jason shooed Danny back into the booth with a wave. “When you’re done, we’ll grab you a pack of socks and boxers from the Dollar Tree next door— no arguing— and then I’ll show you the best diner in Crime Alley.”
“Am I going to have to let you pay there too?”
“Yep, so be a good figure head of a dated governmental system and hush.”
“Or it will be the guillotine for me?” The question was muffled as Danny changed.
“You’re too pretty to lose your head,” Jason said. “It would be the dungeons with you.”
Danny cleared his throat after a pause. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jason said with a chuckle and a determination to ignore that mental picture. “Now come on, show me the next outfit.”
-----
AN: And Dick wore that unicorn shirt far, far too often.
Hopefully it's coherent despite me being sick. The start of this came to me as I was trying to sleep with a 102ish fever so who am I to deny it?
Stay delightful (and hydrated) darlings!
I no longer tag for various reasons, but you can subscribe to be notified at the masterpost. (Queued this post so I'll update the masterpost when I wake)
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