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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months

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Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded

Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x daughter

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.

Warnings: Let's just pretend this is how it ended okay I'm crying, tried to proofread this but I'm just veeeery depressed right now, this might be the fluff you NEED after today's episode

Request and idea by gorgeous @wifenanami <3

Everything’s a blur. What happened last? How did he get here? His heavy heart skips a beat. Oh, right. His whole left side burns like a thousand fires, arm unable to move even an inch by the way his skin feel like bursting every minute. He was severely burned. The last thing he saw was…

Haibara, then Yuji, and then…

You.

Oh god, just the thought of you kills him from the inside.

“Hey, easy there. Your heartbeat is jumping out of the roof. You need to rest now, Nanami. I already called your wife.”

The smell of burned cigarettes simply takes his breath away, along with the venomous words that leave Shoko’s mouth so casually.

“My wife?”, he coughs out, body desperately trying to sit up.

No, this is impossible. You can’t see him like that, body covered in burn marks with his left eye and hair missing. What will you think of him? And what about your daughter? That sweet innocent angel, will she even be able to recognize him? You, his wife, the love of his wife. Your daughter, the greatest treasure on earth.

Will you be disgusted by his fearful sight?

“Yeah, she’s already on her way. Honestly I wasn’t sure if you’ll make it, so I-“

“Why on earth did you call her?”

Shoko stops in her tracks, laying her head to the side in nothing but confusion.

“Huh, what are you talking about? (y/n)’s your wife after all, why wouldn’t I tell her?”

“What if she doesn’t recognize me? What if she’s freaked out by me? What if she brings our daughter with her?”

His sweaty palms begin to shake uncontrollably. In his life, Kento Nanami lost a lot of things: Jobs, money, people, good friends. But oh god, the thought of losing you, his precious little family. It truly kills him from the inside.

“Stop talking nonsense. Being pathetic doesn’t suit you at all”, Shoko remarks dryly.

His widen eyes dart towards the door, waiting in nothing but thick fear for your arrival. Was this afternoon the last time you looked at him as lovingly as you always did? Was it the last time his daughter kissed his right cheek before she left the house? It can’t be, it just can’t turn out like that.

But you deserve so much better. Damn, you are straight up gorgeous, a woman who turns heads on a regular basis. You need more than a crippled man by your side, more than one half of the man you used to know. He wouldn’t even be mad if your eyes lose the spark they hold for him when you see him today.

“I’m leaving now. Something seems to be off. I’m trying to get back by dinner.”

“Why do you have to go this early? I thought we’d have a little time for ourselves. Since our precious little angel is still at kindergarten and I have the afternoon off…”

Your hands roamed around his broad chest, eyes filled with nothing but affection and love. You were always bad at hiding your feelings, your bright orbs being the centre of his universe. God, how much he wanted to lock the door behind you, how much he longed for your touch. But this sounded serious.

“As much as I’d love to take that offer immediately, the young ones need me, (y/n). But I will return as soon as possible and then we’ll finish what you started.”

“Promise it”, you demanded, a small understanding smile decorating your delicate lips while he held your body so tightly against his.

“I promise it. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

One last longing kiss on your forehead. One last kiss before he left your house with a last “I love you” shouted into thin air.

“Damn”, he hisses through gritted teeth, pain pulsating through his whole body, taking his sight.

What is his life worth without you in it?

-(y/n)’s POV-

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

“Hey, hold your head up high, angel. Everything will turn out alright, okay? Daddy is a hero, after all”, you reassure your daughter softly while secretly wiping away a falling tear.

When Shoko called you a few minutes ago, your feet begin to carry you on their own, heart hammering against your aching chest. Your loving husband, the man who gifted you with the precious daughter who holds your hand tightly. She didn’t tell you what happened to him, how he feels. But her tone was as urgent as never before, making you storm down the dark streets of Tokyo in pouring rain until you finally arrived at Jujutsu High, opening the well-known doors to the hospital wing with trembling hands.

Please, let him be alright. Maybe injured, but alive. Maybe distressed, but all in all fine.

Please, let your husband be alright.

You wander down the cold hallways, eyes roaming around the area in a desperate attempt to spot your husband somewhere between the countless injured people. Where is he? Where did they put him?

Suddenly, your orbs get stuck on a wave of pink hair.

“Yuji?” you breathe out.

“Mommy, there’s Yuji!”, the excited voice of your little daughter next to you cries out, already on her way to storm towards the pink-haired boy.

You can’t hold back. Out of instinct you follow her tiny feet, embracing the boy in front of you in a tight hug.

“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me you feel well”, you whisper into his ear.

In an instant, tears start to swell up his eyes, soaking through the fabric of your elegant autumn dress. Your heart shatters into a million pieces, hands gently stroking through his hair.

“I’m not. I’m far away from feeling well, (y/n)”, he cries against your neck, letting himself fall completely against your frame.

Oh Yuji. You hate to see him like that, his thick tears falling like the pouring rain outside.

“I’m sorry for letting Nanami-sensei down, I’m sorry for all the things I did, I-“

“Don’t talk any further. I’m sure you did your best, Yuji. And I know Kento is very proud of you. Please, get some rest now, okay? Did Shoko already check on you? Hey, do you want to stay with me tonight?”

“You can sleep in my room!” your daughter suggests in an instant, hugging Yuji’s leg while looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Thank you, I’m okay. You should look after Nanami-sensei. After all you’re here because of him and not because of me, right?”

“I will always look after you, Yuji. But yes, I’d really like to see my husband right now”, you reply tenderly.

“Is my dad alright?”

“He’s in room 018 down the hall. Please…tell him I’m sorry”, Yuji mutters.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, thank you for your help, Yuji. Come on darling, let’s go see daddy.”

You let out your shaky breath, hand holding onto the doorknob. Finally. You will definitely pay Yuji a visit later on. But know, you have to focus on him. Finally, you’re able to see your husband again.

“Kento, I’m here-“

“Don’t look at me. Get out and never come back”, his harsh voice instructs you.

There he sits, back faces towards you will a white cloak covering his upper body. Your mind begins to race, his punitive tone being to unusual. Not even when discussing, your husband ever turned this cold. What has gotten into him?

“Hi daddy!” your daughter greets her father with all excitement.

His heart breaks in an instant. Why? Why on earth do you have to be here? And why did you have to bring your daughter with you? Why do you have to see him like that?

“I am not the man you fell in love with anymore, (y/n).”

The bitterness in his voice makes you squint your eyes while walking towards him.

“What are you talking about, Kento? I might love you even more after you survived this hell”, you reply in an instant.

“Daddy, what happened to your face?”

Like in slow motion he turns around, revealing severe burns on the left side of his body and his eye covered in bandages. Your heart skips a beat. Oh god, what happened to your poor husband?

“Who did this to you, love?”

“It doesn’t matter how or who. But I understand that I’m not the man you married anymore. I am only half of the man I used to be. So if you want to leave me behind, if you want to take care of our daughter alone-“

He is forced to stop mid-sentence by the way his little daughter presses her tiny body onto his lap, hugging him as tightly as never before. And your gaze that makes time stand still. Your gaze that isn’t filled with disgust like he imagined.

No, your look holds nothing but love and gratitude.

“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see that you are well. When Shoko called me I thought we’ll might lose you. Kento, I…I love you with all my heart. The thought of letting you go, the thought of never seeing you again. I’m so glad.”

And then you sprint towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck carefully with your loving gaze never leaving him.

All pain seems to vanish, nothing else but you matter. Your eyes always tell the truth, he knows all too well. And right now, they scream at him in nothing put the pureness of love while a tear runs down your smiling delicate mouth.

“Now you look like a hero, daddy”, his daughter mumbles against his chest, smiling up at him so widely that even Kento Nanami can’t hold back any longer.

“Because he is, sweetheart. Your dad is a hero”, you clarify with shaky voice, pressing a kiss against his right cheek.

“You aren’t disgusted? Even though I look nothing like the man you fell in love with an never will?”, you mutters.

Gently, your hand caresses his uninjured cheek.

“Nothing will ever distress my love for you. No scar in the world will stop me from loving you with all my heart. I’m so glad you came back to me alive. Nothing else matters.”

“I think you look cool, daddy!”

A single tear rolls down his cheek. For the first time in his life, he isn’t able to keep his composure any longer. A tear of joy, a tear of gratitude. Of course, Nanami was always very aware of what a wonderful woman you are and how well you cared for his little daughter as well. But oh, seeing both of you with your arms wrapped around him, gazing at him with nothing but love and tenderness in your orbs…

Your eyes never lied at him.

How does he even deserve this? How does a simple man like Kento Nanami deserve such a loving wife and daughter made of pure gold?

“We need a cool name for you now, daddy.”

“Daddy first needs all his energy to get well again, sweetheart. But yes, you are right. After all, every hero has a special name, right?”, you reply, chuckling over your very own falling tears.

“I’m not a hero, darling”, Nanami contradicts, running his hand through his daughter’s hair softly.

“But to me you are, daddy. And to mommy too.”

“Indeed. And when all of this is over, I’ll take you to Malaysia”, you confirm, cuddling against his chest while resting your eyes.

“Malaysia, huh? Sounds great…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96

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joelscruff · 1 year

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I have a prompt for you: Joel, reader and pillow humping. Do with this what you want 😁

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YES. (this is short and not proofread don't come for me) i'm also combining this with another request i just got: joel and reader with the sentence “you say it’s big but you take it. ride cowgirl.” from frank ocean pyramids😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 when i say this isn't proofread, i mean it!!! it's probably bad!!! i'm sorry!!!!!!!! i just wanted to write something lmao

you wake in the middle of the night with a fire burning in your tummy. you can barely remember the dream you just had but the lasting effect is evident as you shove your hand down under the blankets and feel your pussy, wet and sticky beneath your fingers. fuck.

joel is fast asleep beside you and you know better than to wake him; he's had trouble sleeping these past few nights and this is the first time in a while that he hasn't been tossing and turning. you don't want to deprive him of that pleasure.

but you don't want to deprive yourself of pleasure either.

you start to rub yourself, scrunching up your face in satisfaction as you give your clit the treatment it deserves, releasing some of that ache and pressure in your belly. but it's not enough; the angle isn't right, the feeling of your fingers. you don't like masturbating, not anymore, not since you met joel and he started keeping you more than satisfied almost every single day. touching yourself has lost its spark and after rubbing your clit for a few moments you realize it's not gonna get you where you need to be.

you sit up, being careful not to jostle joel too much as you grab your pillow and slide off the bed. you place it on the floor, watching from the corner of your eye to make sure he's still sleeping. then, with quick hands, you yank your panties off and settle easily onto the pillow, spreading your legs around it and kneeling on the floor. the coolness of it against your wet heat makes you bite back a whimper.

you dig your hands into the carpet, baring down on the pillow and letting the edge of it slip past your puffy and swollen lips. it rubs perfectly against your clit, foreign enough that it no longer feels like you're getting yourself off.

you turn your head to look at joel, lying there looking peaceful and relaxed as he sleeps through your sudden depravity. he's so handsome, hair grey and tousled against his pillow, forehead and jaw solid and firm, lips parted and slightly wet beneath his scruffy beard and mustache. a few hours ago he'd had that mouth against your pussy, suckling at your clit and fingering your hole until he'd made you come. you keep that image in your head now as you grind against the pillow, soft and supple.

it's only after a few more gyrations that you realize his eyes are suddenly open. you freeze, staring back at him and wondering what he could possibly think of you right now, crouched on the floor like some kind of wild animal while you fuck yourself against a pillow.

"what are you doing, baby?" he murmurs, not moving from his place on the bed.

"i don't know," your face is red but you start to grind against the pillow again, no longer worried about the whimpers bubbling past your lips, "i just wanna come."

he sits up in bed then, pulls back the covers and tugs his boxers down; he's already half hard from watching you, "come here, baby, sit on it."

you scramble up from the floor, leaving your wet pillow behind as you climb back in bed and crawl over to him, pulling yourself up and hovering over his dick. he holds it in place, watches you sink down on it with no preparation whatsoever.

"fuck," he groans, "what a way to wake up."

you're too distracted by the stretch of him to know what to say, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down hard on your lip as his girth stretches your hole. you regret not fingering yourself; why'd you have to go straight for the pillow? his cock feels good inside of you but the burn is almost too much.

"i should've prepped," you whimper, "it kinda hurts."

his brow furrows, "what? baby, why didn't you tell me?" he moves to pull out of you and you bare down on him quickly, shaking your head.

"no, joel, it's a good hurt. it's so big," you look at him with hazy eyes, feeling simultaneously half asleep and wide awake, "and it's getting bigger. fuck." you whine then, a high keening sound that has you wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in closer, "oh my god, it feels amazing."

he holds you close and lets you get used to his size, growing larger the longer he's inside you. you've taken his cock countless times before but never without him fingering you first, and never when he was only half hard to begin with. the sheer size of him just continues to fill you up the longer you sit there, a deep groan emitting from your throat when he's finally at his peak size.

"oh, fuck," you moan, "okay, fuck me. fuck me." you suddenly feel frantic, lips against his ear as his hands find their familiar place on your back. he hears you loud and clear, immediately fucking up into you and giving you what you need. the head of his cock pounds fervently against your cervix and your eyes roll back, already feeling like you could come at any second.

"what's gotten into you, baby?" he asks between thrusts, gripping you tightly as he bounces you up and down, "you need cock that bad, huh?"

"yours," you whimper, "your cock, no one else's."

"needed it so bad you fucked a pillow," he groans, fucking you faster, "just had to have something touching that needy little pussy. absolutely shameless. does it still hurt, baby?"

"n-no," you shake your head, "doesn't hurt."

he suddenly stops thrusting, stills inside you and leans back against the headboard, "then you do the work for a bit, i'm tired."

"joel," you whine, pulling back to look at him, "that's not fair."

"you woke me up, baby," he whispers, the ghost of a smile on his face, "i was sleeping so good and you woke me up with your pretty little whimpers."

you pout, "it's too big," you're laying it on thick, hoping he'll come around, "i'm tired too, can't do it by myself."

he smiles, "it's not too big, baby. it's made for you," he reaches down and lands a playful smack against your ass, squeezing your cheek tightly, "now ride it."

it takes a few seconds for you to get back into a rhythm but before long you're pulling yourself up and down on his cock, loving the way it slides all the way in and hits the deepest part of you and then pulls all the way out. joel just watches you with sleepy eyes, squeezes your ass and smirks every time you cry out.

he knows when you're close, has seen that expression on your face and felt the way your pussy tightens around him too many times to not know what it means. he reaches down and rubs your clit, smiling when you moan his name and start twitching in his lap.

"there it is," he murmurs, "that's what you wanted."

you're vaguely aware of him finishing a few seconds later, coming inside of you without having to ask; he knows you want it. your legs are shaking when he pulls you off, lays you beside him and strokes your hair. you can feel yourself drifting off again but before you can fall asleep you feel him place his pillow beneath your head.

"but-" you start to protest, opening your eyes again and watching as he leans over you on the bed, reaching down onto the floor for the pillow you'd fucked yourself against only moments ago.

"shhh, go to sleep baby," he whispers, picking it up and placing it on his side of the bed, "i want this one."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

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ghouljams · 3 months

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ANOTHER FASHION HISTORY NERD!!! YOU MAKE ME CRY TEARS OF JOY!!!

I hate seeing a period piece and then: ‘he pulled her panties down’ it gives me the ick… pantaletts are a sexy concept! Just get through all the ribbon, silk and lace of her skirts? There’s no barrier, it’s sexy! It’s like crotchless panties but, better… idk why it’s better but, it is.

(I love those novels!!! ‘titillate’ is a funny word and very accurate to use as a descriptor. It feels like a cross between giggly and turned on, y’know?)

Lord Mactavish is so *sigh* … just picturing him in any way shape or form… when they’re actually married he takes her (us) back to his mansion? Chasing her through the manor house; through the winding halls… taking her (us) against the carpet until your knees are covered in rug burn. (I picture the massive mansion from the secret garden)

(Servants are scared to roam at night. It’s too awkward to look your lord and lady in they eye after seeing that)

When you go to get your dresses for the season, he comes with. “Leave extra room- need to alter it for her pregnancy soon.” You’re not pregnant. He intends to fix that and parade you around at every gala.

On god I am staring at period undergarments just to make sure I'm not misremembering when pantaletts became a thing lol. They weren't popular during the regency period so we can just pull the skirts up (drool) It's so much better than crotch-less panties you're right.

You're fucking doing something to me... Lord Mactavish parading you around at every gala, he knows full well that not everyone thinks it's proper to have you out and about when you're showing, he also knows that he's supposed to be using euphamisms. He still settles a hand on your stomach and proudly announces that his wife is "bred just like she's supposed to be" which gets him smacked and gets you fucked in whatever room he can get you into quickest. Grrrrrr I want him.

More Bodice Ripper Soap...

He likes this little game you play, you know he does. Barely married, and he's taken every opportunity(on every surface) to make sure you remember it. You can hear him whistling through the corridors of his manor, letting you know where he is at all times. It's also a warning to any servants still awake and busying themselves about the place. Your heart hammers in your chest as you press yourself back behind the door of the study. You know he saw you come this way, you made sure to close and open various doors along the way to try and throw him off.

It's funny, the anticipation of being caught makes your stomach heat, makes wetness slick your thighs. It's terribly improper, being chased through the house by your husband, you can't even remember what sparked it this time. He'd said something, he always says something, and you'd called him exactly what he is, a rake, a bodice ripper. He's laughed, mirthful and dark as the night outside your windows. Then he'd done just that, gripped your nightdress between two hands and ripped it open. Even now you're clutching it closed over your chest, feeling the frantic flutter of your heart under your fingers, and pretending it doesn't do something sinful to you.

The whistling comes close, you turn your head to peak through the crack left by the hinges. Your husband in all his glory, still in his hunting clothes, you half expect to see him carrying his gun or rope. His hands are lax by his sides as his eyes sweep the hall. He slows by an open door and turns to investigate. You're careful, quiet, as you make your way around the door, eyeing the room nearest you.

You can't stay here, not if he's stopping to look around. Your best bet is running, and hoping he doesn't catch you coming out. You tiptoe to the next room, press yourself to the wall and listen for Johnny's whistle. You close your eyes tight and hear him wander into another room. You take a steadying breath and poke your head out again, determined to make a run for it.

You dart past the next door, or try to. Johnny catches you by the throat, his thick fingers curling menacingly around your neck as you come to an abrupt halt. Your hands fly to his wrist and his grip tightens ever so slightly. "Caught you," He growls, "Shouldn't run from your husband, love." You're pulled against his chest, and bullied to the ground. He's not gentle putting you on your knees, but at least he has the compassion to follow you.

Compassion that flies out the window when his hand leaves your neck and grips your hair tight, pushing your face to the hall's carpet as he pulls your skirt up. You choke feeling his fingers prod your sopping cunt. Johnny makes a noise, a soft, pleased sound that has heat prickling over your skin. He drags his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick, enjoying the heat, before his touch leaves you. You squirm without meaning to, your hips moving to follow his fingers. He hums, fabric rustles, and then you hear him slicking his cock with your wetness.

"Fuck this pussy," He leans over you, forces you to take his weight, the blunt head of his cock teasing your entrance, "tell me she doesn't want me, that you don't love this."

You can't, it wouldn't be true, and he knows it. The best you can do is try to hide your face, nearly impossible with Johnny holding your hair so tightly, and whimper, "Can't."

"Can't what hen?" Johnny coos, "Can't tell me? Or can't take it?" You shake your head against the carpet, try to, at least. Johnny releases your hair, his hand moving to grip your hip hard enough to bruise instead. He ruts against you, his cock just catching at your entrance before slipping back over your slick folds. He presses his forehead between your shoulders. On another man it might be an almost tender gesture, but on Johnny it rings alarm bells in your head. "I'll make it fit," The smile in his voice makes your eyes roll back, "don't worry."

The tip of his cock presses more insistently against you, pushing into your cunt. Your back arches, your nails clawing the carpet as you gasp and whine. He stretches you open on his cock, the heat of his skin burning the same way the stretch does, like he's hoping he'll reshape you for himself. He shushes you, keeps you held tightly in place as he rocks his thick cock into you. You shake and shiver under him, knowing it only spurns him on. There's nothing you can think of that turns this man off of you, he seems annoyingly predisposed towards finding you charming.

Though perhaps charming isn't the right word. Tempting. No, tempted men don't always give into their wants. Your husband has never restrained himself around you, tempting you are not, you're magnetic, destined to attract the Lord Mactavish at every crossing.

You clench on his cock, feel his hips press against your ass, feel every tantalizing inch of him. You feel his teeth ghost over the back of your neck as he drags his cock out of your cunt. "Scream for me wife," He tells you,

and you do.

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queen-haq · 4 months

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Fic: Never You - (Penelope/Colin) Part 1

Rating: R

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV show)

Spoilers: S3 scene released yesterday.

Summary: They may have been friends once but his callous words decimated their relationship. Determined not to have anything to do with him, Penelope is ready to move on. But Colin isn't giving up, not at all. Friends or not, they are connected for life - and he intends to remind her of that.

Excerpt:

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

Part 1

Penelope stared out at the pond, her last conversation with Colin still running through her mind. I miss you. Few months ago his words would have sparked incredible joy in her but hearing his smug confession last night had elicited nothing but rage. Even now an explosive anger threatened to burn her from the inside out - but she reminded herself to stay composed. Losing her calm over Colin Bridgerton was simply not worth it, not when she had far more important things to worry about.

“Penelope. How are you?”

Hearing Lady Violet’s voice from behind, she turned around to greet the older woman. Except she wasn’t alone. Of course not. Behind her stood most of her family, Colin and Eloise on one side, Gregory and Hyacinth on the other. Penelope quickly shifted her gaze back to Lady Violet. “I’m quite well. How are you?”

“You haven’t paid us a visit in a long time.”

Penelope sensed the scorn vibrating off of Eloise in waves, but she ignored her former friend. Even though her soul ached at the loss of their friendship, a part of her had already grown resigned to their new reality. “I’m afraid country life has kept me busy all these months.”

“Well, you’re back now. I hope to see you at the house more often.”

There was no mention of the falling out with Eloise, nor did Penelope expect there to be. Especially with Eloise pretending she no longer existed. Her eyes roamed over to her friend, only to be ignored. Inevitably her gaze slid over to Colin, and she suddenly found herself the recipient of his intent focus. Somber blue eyes penetrating her through to her very core, making her rattled and anxious and breaking down the very calm façade she worked so hard to build.

Throughout their entire friendship he’d always been sweet and funny, filling her dull world with hope and color, but the night of her mother’s ball she’d seen the kind of cruelty he was capable of. It was a side of him that she never wished to see again. And feeling his piercing gaze right into her soul, in a way he’d never looked at her before, reminded her of how much of a stranger he really was. “Forgive me, Lady Violet, but I must take my leave. Mama shall be waiting for me.”

She quickly walked past the group, breathing a sigh of relief at no longer being under Colin’s scrutiny. Her relief, however, lasted only a few seconds. Because almost immediately Colin was striding alongside her.

“Pen, we need to speak.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Then I’ll do the talking.”

“And I’m not interested in listening.”

“Too bad. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

She cursed his long legs, because while she struggled to keep up the fast pace he seemed to glide along the path without much effort. Short of running away from him, which would surely cause a scandal amongst the crowd promenading, she had no choice but to keep walking.

“I’m sorry. Truly.” His voice was soft, velvety like butter, like he’d practiced the words many, many times in preparation for the performance of a lifetime. “My words that night-”

“Do you know that I read your letters over the summer? Despite my anger, I still read them.”

An unexpected rawness laced his voice. “Why?”

“Because I needed to know. Would I recognize that insincerity in your words now that I knew the truth about your disdain towards me. And do you know what I discovered?”

She finally turned to look at him, and just for a moment the world stopped. Like it always did. His eyes were bluer than the sea itself, a symphony of agony and need, beckoning her towards him. She suddenly found it difficult to breathe, her heart caught in a whirlwind of chaos.

“Tell me.”

It wasn’t a request, nor a plea. It was a demand. As if he was entitled to her thoughts, her heart. Her very soul. Well, damn him. Damn him for playing her for a fool. And damn herself for ever loving him. “You are an extraordinarily talented writer, Mr. Bridgerton. So good in fact that I woulld never have guessed your true thoughts if I didn’t hear you utter them myself.”

“That’s not fair. It was one night, Pen! One night! When I was drunk out of my mind and said something foolish. Are you really willing to give up on me after years of friendship because of something so small?”

“Yes.” Her response was quick and resolute, surprising even herself.

Stunned, Colin stared back at her. “Yes?” The tremor in his voice was unmistakable. “You don’t mean that.”

“Don’t I?”

The change in him was sudden and abrupt, taking her by surprise when he moved swiftly to block her path.

The blues of his eyes were so dark they bordered on brown, a storm brewing in them. Staring back at her was a man she didn’t recognize, different from the boy she grew up with,and the man who humiliated her without a thought. This was a stranger in front of her, anger etched on his face, jaw clenched with tension.

“You would hate me for not wanting to court you. You would be that selfish?”

“Of course you would think that.”

“What else is this if not punishment?”

She didn’t think he could hurt her more, but he managed to do it nonetheless. “I never expected you to court me, Colin. You don’t love me. I’m quite aware of that. But you could have told them there was nothing between us. You could’ve even said I meant nothing to you. Instead you mocked me, derided me so you could look good in front of your peers, and that makes you someone I never want to associate with.”

“I made a mistake, Pen.”

“Miss Featherington,” she bit out through gritted teeth. “That is who I am to you from now on. Nothing more.”

“So that’s it? I make a mistake and you erase me from your life just like that?” He snapped his finger angrily. “Are you so fucking perfect that you’ve never wronged anyone?

They’d been standing still for far too long, their conversation growing more potent every second. All of a sudden she was acutely aware of glances in her direction, people’s eyes sliding over her and Colin, and she realized how dangerous this was. Risking her carefully crafted plans for a few heated moments with him was idiotic. “People are staring at us, Colin.”

“I don’t care.”

“Obviously.” She offered a small smile at the couple who walked past her, trying to appear amiable. “You may not be concerned about my reputation but I am. And I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my way.”

“I’m not willing to give up on our friendship like you.”

His snarky words drew her gaze back to him. “Walk away, Mr. Bridgerton. Let me be.”

“And if I don’t?”

The hint of menace sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. “You would not be the gentleman you claim to be.”

“Perhaps I’m not. Perhaps everything you’ve accused me of is true.” He took a step closer, eyes shining brightly. “Maybe I am cunning and cruel. What then?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. “What is it that you want from me?”

“Forgiveness.”

“Fine. You’re forgiven.”

“You’re lying.”

“And you’re being rude.”

Eyes locked, they regarded each other intently. She didn’t understand what he was doing, why he was behaving this way. Why his stare seemed to be all consuming, studying her, trailing down to her mouth when she licked her bottom lip before drifting back up again. He’d never behaved this way before, A complete stranger in every way. “If you ever valued me as a friend, you would do as I ask.”

“I could say the same. If you valued me, you wouldn’t cast me aside.”

“You can not force me to continue this.”

“Would that be such a hardship? To move past one mistake and leave it behind us?” Desperation brimmed from him, he swallowed audibly. “I may not wish to court you but you are important to me. You’re my dearest friend. I can not envision a life without you.”

She exhaled a long, drawn-out breath. “You must.”

His lips twisted into a cruel plea. “Why?”

“Because I am to be married, Colin!” Instantly she regretted her words, hating herself for letting him provoke her. Yes, it was the truth, a plan that had taken months to carefully develop and plot – and now she’d ruined it by announcing it too early, and to him of all people!

“What?” He faltered back, stunned by her words. “You’re engaged? To whom? Why-”

“All you need to know is that my future husband and I have already discussed the matter and he wishes for me to have nothing to do with you. So goodbye, Mr. Bridgerton, because this the last time you and I will speak alone.” She stormed away, before he could stop her.

To be continued...

A/N - Um, thoughts? Feedback is always appreciated. I'm liking the idea of Colin and Penelope going head to head over the destruction of their friendship :)

#polin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #my fics

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moonlight-prose · 8 months

Text

✧ THE FOUNTAIN OF YOU ✧

a/n: i am not responsible for how filthy this fic. it just kept getting dirtier the longer i typed and now it's just porn very little plot. this is my first ever phoenix fic! i've had one in my wips for months now, but never actually felt great enough to complete it. so now that this is out and posted, i might actually go back and look at the old wip. for now i hope y'all enjoy!

day fourteen - nipple play + scissoring | kinktober 2023

summary: "somehow in the midst of chaos in the middle of that bar, you found her. the missing puzzle piece of your half empty heart."

word count: 2.2k+

pairing: natasha 'phoenix' trace x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, nipple play, scissoring, cumplay sort of, cum eating, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, dom!phoenix.

“Tell me what you like and I’ll do it to you.”

Words spoken against your ear in the midst of chaos. You came to the bar in the hopes of having a drink to dispel the day of all its stress. A small moment to yourself before you went home to an empty apartment and an even emptier bedroom. The interaction hadn’t started out as anything at first. You ran into her—literally—as you were trying to squeeze through the crowd to find a seat. And she led you to a stool before depositing a beer in front of you with a wink.

That was that. You watched her walk away to join a group of people wearing the exact same uniform as her.

Until it was her turn to find something to drink, and she found herself leaning against the bar, talking to you. The hand nearest to your body found itself curled around your hip to keep you close as someone shoved behind you. Her face tilted close in order for you to hear her better over the noise.

And that’s when she said it. The words that practically burned a hole in your lungs, leaving you gasping for air.

Not a minute passed before you were dragging her in by the collar and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. All in the hopes that you weren’t reading this situation wrong. She had smiled, cupped the nape of your neck, and tugged you back in. Her tongue sliding along your bottom lip with enough eagerness to have your body melting against hers. Your soft moan being swallowed and traded in for a happy hum.

Twenty minutes later you found yourself in the passenger seat of her car, a hand between your thighs—shoving up the skirt you wore for work.

“Fuck you’re wet,” she murmured, fingers sliding between your folds and gathering the sticky wetness that practically drenched the seat of her car. A grin formed on her lips, eyes darkening by the second.

“F-Fuck—”

“You like that baby?” She sunk a finger into you, pulling a soft moan from your lips, your body shifting to give her better access.

Nodding, you did what you could to make the angle easier for her, aching to feel another finger slip into you. But Phoenix was a master at patience. You had yet to find that out, only grasping at what she’d told you in the bar. Small pieces of her life and the job she led when she wasn’t taking the time to enjoy her life. Although from what you gathered she could barely enjoy it, only given a certain amount of time before she was called back again.

She curled another finger into you, a smile blooming on her face when you keened, head falling back into the seat and eyes fluttering shut. The top of your shirt was unbuttoned, bra pushed away, and as she rolled to a stop in the middle of a desolate street, she leaned over. Taking your nipple into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. The squelch of her fingers pumping into you echoed in the small space of her car, but that only made everything build so much more.

You could feel the sensation you normally had to fight for. The sparks that ran down your spine, curling low in your stomach, and suddenly you found yourself right there. On the edge of cumming all over her hand.

Grasping onto her neck, you kept her mouth to your breast, a high whine ripping from your throat. Your hips bucked into her hand, clit catching on the edge of her palm. It was too much. Nearly overwhelming you as she continued to work you over the edge, rising quickly to capture your mouth in a debauched kiss as you broke. It rolled through you like a fucking tidal wave. Nearly sending you crashing into her body. A cry bounced off the car’s interior, body trembling when she continued to stimulate you.

Yet her kiss was different. Soft and inviting. As if she was placing a promise there on your smeared lipstick—something that told you she wasn’t done with you yet.

“We’re almost there,” she breathed against your lips, sliding her fingers out of you and pulling out a soft whine. “You wanna be a good girl for me and just sit here looking pretty?”

You nodded, eyes wide and lips parted as she placed her fingers in her mouth, moaning at the taste. The cool air felt strange against your exposed cunt; eliciting a feeling you’d never experienced before. You liked this. Being bare for her to see, but also whoever might catch a quick view in a passing car. It made you feel wanted, as if you were finally desired in a way no one had made you feel before.

Phoenix caught the sheepish look on your face, eyes glimmering with desire. The grin spread across her face again, eyes tracing down the curve of your breasts as they hung against your body. The shiny slick that was smeared on the inside of your thigh—continuing to leak steadily on the seat of her car.

“Look at you sweetie.” She pressed a hand to your thigh, nail tracing the skin softly until you shivered. “Do you like being exposed for me?”

Your gaze snapped to her, heat spreading beneath the skin of your cheeks. “I— Yeah.”

She rounded a corner into a small street of houses. Well in all honesty they could barely be construed as houses. They were more cottages than anything else. But you could recognize the blue car from the bar parked across the street where she stopped—her place resembling each one.

Although on a closer inspection you realized her home stood out just a bit more. The flowers in the front were a beautiful array of pinks and reds. Comfortable chairs were set out on the porch, each one with a pillow—a table in between that seemed to be used for morning coffees. Her home looked warm. Soft in all the ways she was, yet still holding onto that aspect of safety she exuded the second you ran into her.

“C’mon,” she said softly, tapping your thigh and drawing up the top of your shirt. “I’ll make you a coffee.”

“You don’t have to,” you replied, pulling down your skirt as you got out, keeping yourself covered as she led you up the front walkway.

She shrugged, opening the door with ease and discarding her jacket on a hook. “I want to.”

So you found yourself curled on her couch, a cup of coffee in your hands, and a soft song playing in the background. You spoke to her about your life. Your job and how it was slowly starting to grate on your nerves. The dreams you wished you had pursued instead of a boring cubicle that kept you hidden from the world. And she returned in kind. Telling you about what being a pilot for the Navy was actually like. Especially when it came down to being a woman in the Navy.

The clock ticked on the mantle, several hours passing, yet you found that time moved far too quickly around her. You wanted to stay here. To wake up and enjoy coffee on the porch, to see what the remainder of her house looked like. But what you were there for stared at you in the face—the want from earlier slowly seeping back into your veins.

“How’s the coffee?” she asked, already knowing that the drink had gone cold in favor of you staring at the way her top was unbuttoned. The curve of her breasts peeking out.

“Hm?” You jolted back to the present, mouth watering and eyes slightly dazed. “Oh. It’s delicious.”

“It’s cold.”

That all too delicious heat returned once more, spreading up your neck. “I was…um…”

She smiled, pulling the mug out of your hands and depositing it on the table—her other hand curling around your jaw. “You’re really cute. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Even if you wanted to answer, the words were stuck on your tongue as she moved closer. Her lips finding yours in the dimly lit room. Swallowing your soft whine with her tongue that slid deeply against yours. Her other hand gripped your hip, tugging you forward until you had no choice but to curl your leg around her. Finding yourself in her lap, her hands tugging at your top to get it off. You had come to the conclusion that she liked to toy with your nipples. Her teeth latched onto one again, laving her hot tongue along it until you were grinding against her.

“Oh f-fuck,” you choked, gripping onto the back of her neck. “Wanna taste you.”

She grinned against your skin. “You will baby. You will. I’ve got something in mind first though.”

Nodding before she could tell you what it was, you let her push you off the couch as her hands grasped for your skirt. The way she stripped you was slow. Soft touches and whispered compliments of how pretty you were. All of it mixing to make your head spin, your chest heaving with the breaths that left you quicker than you could take them in. She consumed you with her eyes, made you feel everything with her hands, and yet…you wanted more.

You wanted to sear tonight in your mind. Forever remembering the way she had taken you apart so delicately.

She led you to the floor, her clothes now discarded in the same pile as yours—her mouth devouring you in a kiss that made your body burn. Fingers slid down your hips, tracing the soft lines that stretched across your hips, and dipped her tongue along yours. Tasting the coffee off your tongue. Phoenix found she preferred the bitterness from your mouth over her mug—the flavor sensual and rich.

“Spread your legs for me baby,” she murmured against your jaw.

You listened to her without hesitation, allowing her to completely take the reins—putting your mind at ease for the first time all week. It felt euphoric to be this willing for her. To let her mold you however she wanted. There was something about her that pulled at your body—calling to you in a way it hadn’t before. Hovering over you, she watched with parted lips and red stained cheeks as she slid into position. Her cunt pressing over yours until her slick coated the top of your mound.

A depraved grunt echoed in her chest, nails digging into your thigh as she watched your face contort in pleasure. A gasp ripping from your chest when she moved. Her hips grinding over yours perfectly. You felt her clit, felt the way her cunt spread just right causing her slick to mix with yours.

“So pretty for me,” she whispered, cupping your breast and running a thumb over your nipple. She moved higher, cupping your chin in her soft palm, thumb now moving to press against your bottom lip—easing your mouth open. “Should I ride this perfect mouth next?”

Your eyes nearly rolled back. “Please.”

“I’ll cum in your mouth next baby.” It was a promise. Not a question. You knew that the second the words hit your ears and it made another wave of heat rush over your body.

“N-Natasha—” You shuddered when she dragged along your cunt, her hand curving around your hip to hold you in place.

A moan left her lips, forehead scrunched and eyes focused on the way you practically leaked for her—coating her inner thighs. “Gonna cum over this pussy first though.”

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“You want that sweetie?”

You nodded, gaze snapping back to her as she leaned down, her lips wrapping around your nipple. She rode you even harder, her hips colliding with yours and suddenly you found you could hardly breathe. The burning thrill of pleasure now overtaking your entire body. When her teeth latched onto your nipple, breath hot against your skin, you felt everything fall into place. The feelings she had wrought from you now laid bare along the rug. Just as you were.

They told you that this was more. That you would wake up to see her again.

Her voice moaning your name against your body undid your very being. The last drag of her clit against yours ripped free a broken shout as you fell over the edge. It was powerful. Nearly sending you into a state of dizziness, but you let it consume you completely—drowning you in the scent of her perfume, the feel of her body against yours.

She followed soon after, keeping her promise. Cumming with a shout, she pressed her lips to yours, her his jerking over you until it became too much. But you felt the wetness against your cunt. The way it trailed down your ass and into the carpet. No doubt staining the color.

“Where the fuck have you been all this time?” she breathed against your lips, a smile being pressed into her small kiss.

You felt a flutter go through your chest, as she moved, pulling you into her lap until your knees were pressed to the floor. “Waiting for you I guess.”

“No more waiting,” she replied, hands sliding down to your ass and lips dragging along your jaw. “Stay.”

You could picture it in your mind. Sitting on that porch with her, drinking coffee in the mornings. Conversations that turned into flirting that turned into so much more. Somehow in the midst of chaos in the middle of that bar, you found her. The missing puzzle piece of your half empty heart.

#natasha 'phoenix' trace #natasha trace x f!reader #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x you #natasha trace x y/n #phoenix x reader #phoenix x y/n #natasha trace smut #top gun: maverick #my writing #kinktober 2023

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sherlocksoft · 1 year

Text

Spicy Sherlock headcanons

Sherlock Holmes x reader NSFW headcanons

Masterlist

Authors notes: as last time, I’m writing this with any version of Sherlock in mind, but that gif was too good to resist. Very much feeling a need to explore Victorian dirty talk in a short Drabble soon after this… there’s something about being absolutely filthy with a Victorian gentleman that just 🔥

Warnings: NSFW — smut, virgin Sherlock, switch Sherlock (needy sub/hungry soft dom), oral sex, vaginal sex, handjobs, fingering, cream pie, thigh riding, cock warming, teasing, edging, dirty talk, size kink

Sherlock has never been a particularly sexual being, always too focussed on the pragmatic to pay much mind to the whims of the vessel that is his body

He was nervous the first time. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was far out of his comfort zone and anxious that you would be dissatisfied with him (or that he wouldn’t like the experience and leave you even more disappointed)

He’s used to utilising the skills he knows he’s good at. How can he be confident with sex when he’s never even learned to pleasure himself properly?

Over time he learns his body though, alongside learning every inch of yours

Even the first time he slips his finger inside, he soon comes to realise that your body is simply another puzzle, and if he can find the right combination places to touch, the correct pressure and speed, he will solve it in no time

Almost cums in his undergarments when you come undone on just his fingers

He’s pleasantly surprised to discover the way you moan and gasp for him, and how this guides him in his endeavour to satisfy you

He’s also surprised to find that sex with you feels incredible, giving his mind a short break and a boost of pleasure he’s never considered would be useful until now

Constantly and absolutely in awe of your reactions to his touch, and even more so to his cock. He feels a spark of excitement when you tell him he’s too big to fit, and another when you cry out in pleasure-pain as he slowly slides inside and stretches you with a delightful burn, whispering, ‘That’s it, darling, you’re doing so well, taking me all the way in that tight little cunt.’

Speaking of the way he talks to you, he absolutely delights in dirty talk, especially when he’s using such vulgar words compared to his usual vocabulary. It makes your blood boil with lust to hear him talk like that (it’s a little bit like when a person who always wears a suit puts a casual t shirt on and somehow becomes even more attractive)

Will whisper something filthy in your ear when you least expect it and delight in the blush it causes to burn your cheeks (and the heat he knows it’s sending rushing to your core (basic science))

When he’s on a case and you offer assistance, he forms an idea. You end up between his legs under the desk, warm lips wrapped around his throbbing, leaking cock as he tries to focus on the task at hand

It soon becomes unbearable, and he has to stop his work, allowing his mind to switch off for a few blissful moments as he falls back in his chair, spreading his legs and bucking his hips, fingers slipping into your hair to feel the movement of your ministrations until the orgasm that rips through him resets his mind

As you wipe your mouth and tuck his softening length back into his trousers, you hear him muttering away, scribbling something on a scrap of paper and you know he’s finally reached the conclusion he needed, with your help

Don’t feel left out though, at the end of the case he will eat you out like a starved man over and over until you’re trembling and he’s moaning into your slick folds

He’s pretty sure he invented edging. When you accompany him away from Baker Street for an investigation and have a frustratingly quiet time, instead he ends up using the time away to keep you simmering on the edge of orgasm, telling you he will only let you cum when you get home

The train ride back is torture but it’s so worth it when you get into the flat and he pushes you up against the door finally taking you. Later writes a monograph on The Science of Sporadic Pleasure

When he gains more sexual confidence, he generally has two modes: needy sub, and hungry soft dom

Needy sub Sherlock is what you get when he’s loosing confidence in a case, or when he’s between cases and growing bored. He seeks reassurance in your touch, whimpering as you slip your hand into his trousers to bring him off, gripping the sheets and begging as you ride him slowly, the measured movement of your hips both hypnotising and torturous

He will lay with you afterwards, safe in your arms, fingers gripping onto you just as hard as when his climax was nearing, whimpering as your stroke his messy hair and whisper sweet nothings into his ear while his high subsides

Hungry soft dom Sherlock comes out to play when he’s excited, when he’s pulled off a dramatic reveal that got his blood pumping, or when he’s so close to figuring out the answer to something, he knows he just needs that little push to get him there — and now he understands what’s so great about orgasms, one of those will do nicely to help him on his way

He also knows you like it when he’s a little rougher, and takes immense pleasure in satisfying you that way, particularly if he’s been busy lately

He slams into you mercilessly, growls muffled against the crook of your neck as you hold onto him for dear life. Between moans of how good you are for him, how exquisite your cunt feels around his cock, how only you can make him feel like this, he mutters the other thoughts that flash through his brilliant mind lie puzzle pieces

Just before he empties his seed inside you, as his climax builds, everything starts to come together in his mind. He has his lightbulb moment just as his peak hits, and he cries out the answer in a guttural, breathy shout while you clench around him

He holds you close for a moment as his thick cum drips down your thighs, thanking you profusely and making sure you’re not hurt, that you’re satisfied and comfortable before taking off to finish what he’s been working toward

If he’s half dressed, you sometimes need to remind him to straighten up as he’s frantically grabbing what he needs before leaving the house, the telltale signs of a half buttoned shirt poking out from a ruffled waistcoat, untied cravat and open fly — even Lestrade could figure that one out without help

When he returns, he kisses you passionately for what feels like hours, languid het firry, grateful that you’re so patient with him, that what you do for him is something no one else could

‘I’m sorry for using you earlier, my love,’ he breathes apologetically, ‘allow me to make it up to you?’ And he does just that, spending the evening entirely focussed on your pleasure

More often than you might think he’s happy for you to use him for your own pleasure, lying on the little couch and beckoning you with a lazy finger to climb on top

‘I know I’ve been absent, darling, and I really must continue my work but I simply cannot rest a moment longer without giving you a mind shattering orgasm. Ride my thigh for me while I think thingsn through, there’s a good girl.’

When he’s feeling playful, he will encourage you to sit on his cock while he’s at his desk, having you warm him until you’re squirming to rock your hips, but he will only shift his own hips slightly when he’s able to continue his work without your whining distracting him. He has to grip your hips hard to keep you still

And while he’s pausing for thought, his fingers might just slip down to rub your clit for a short while before he resumes his research

Delightfully vocal, especially when he’s particularly horny. He’s never pleasured himself enough to learn to keep quiet, so he just lets it out and it’s enough to alert the whole of Baker Street

Never ever leaves you dissatisfied

#not s f w 💀#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes smut #sherlock holmes headcanons #sherlock holmes #henry cavill sherlock holmes #victorian sherlock #any sherlock #sherlocksoft writes

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Note

I have no idea if the bingo card is finished yet or not (last i checked there were a few left!!)

but "What did you just say?" with Jason <3 idk it sounds...angst in a way and while I value my heart i do like a good "gasp??" read.

mwah mwah mwah <3

I said I was going to take a break tonight. I wrote this in an hour. I am a liar to myself.

He flinched when the hand landed on his shoulder. Jason Todd, the scourge of the underworld and solid wall of muscle, flinched at the touch of his partner. He shrugged you off and moved to the other side of the room so he could start stripping off his weapons and placing them in their respective cases. He’d be damned if he left a knife or gun somewhere you couldn’t see and you accidentally injured yourself.

Fuck. He was just a walking red flag for you. His very presence was a danger to your life. How many times had someone come close to you because you were Jason Todd’s partner? He could only dread the amount of people that would follow if they knew he was the Red Hood.

“What’s going on, Jase?” you asked quietly. You didn’t try to come any closer and instead you sat down on the end of the bed and watched as he went through the post-patrol motions.

“Nothing.” His voice was gruff and low as usual, but you could sense something under the veneer of ice and metal that coated that one single word. Your eyes narrowed and you repeated yourself, slower and with more intention.

“What is going on in that pretty head of yours, Jay?”

“I said nothing so stop fucking pushing,” he snapped. He slammed the lid of his gun safe a little harder than normal and he winced. He was glad his back was turned to you because he didn’t want to see the look on your face. Hell, he didn’t want you to see the look on his face. He was doing this to protect you. To keep you out of this life and away from the blood that he could never clean out from under his nails.

“No.”

The word was crisp and it cut through the silence that enveloped the apartment. Jason’s hands hovered over his thigh holsters and then his shoulders tightened. He turned around to face you, all six feet and three inches of pure muscle looming over you like a warning. His lips curled up into a sneer before he spat out his next sentence.

“What did you just say?” Venom laced his mouth and spat out into every word, coating his tongue with hatred and rage. For a brief, vicious moment, he relished in the way your nose twitched and your brows sank for just a moment, but then the venom turned to the burning acid of bile in his throat at the realization that he was hurting you from his words. He didn’t even need to use his fists.

You composed yourself and he blanched for a moment when he saw the way your hands curled up into the sleeves of his hoodie that hung off of your body. You looked so small in that moment even though he knew your personality could capture an entire room.

“I said no. I said no because you don’t get to tell me to not push. Because I know what you’re doing.”

That little hitch in your voice was nearly enough to bring him to his knees but he just glanced away and crossed his arms over his chest, as if they would defend his heart from you. As if you didn’t already hold his heart in the gentle cup of your hands.

“And if this is how you want it to go, Jason Peter Todd, then so be. So fucking be it.” Rage sparked in your eyes and he flinched just barely under the shaking tone of your voice that reeked of barely suppressed anger. “But I’m not going to sit here and let you self-destruct our life because you think that by pushing me away that you’re doing me a favor. You can take that notion right out of your head because I’m not leaving even when you’re being the biggest dick alive.”

You stood up now and your pointer finger jabbed into his chest. He could barely feel it through his body armor, but the pressure grounded him. Tears shone in your eyes and his face fell. God, you were always so good at reading him. He should have known you would catch on within seconds.

“My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you,” you whispered. Your jabbing finger turned into a delicate, open palm pressed against his covered heart. He dropped his head onto your shoulder and let out a long, shuddering breath.

“I am forgetful of everything but seeing you again,” he announced to his traitorous mind. He sank to his knees and pressed his forehead against your stomach. You cradled him to you, your fingers running through his sweat-soaked hair.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I know you are. I know you’ll do this again.” He had these moments after particularly violent nights. All brute strength and barbed words in the hopes that you would leave him because he knew that he was strong enough to go head to head with metahumans, but he would never be strong enough to walk out on you.

“You should leave me,” he voiced his thoughts.

“Shhh.” Your nails scratched across his scalp and he pressed himself closer to you. What a sight he made. A man kneeling in penance at the altar of his deity. He could offer nothing but his broken vessel, but you always accepted it and filled it with love, even when it leaked out and spilled onto the floor.

His fingers clutched at your hips and you laid a gentle hand on the back of his neck, your skin soft against his armor. He should pull away. He shouldn’t let his gear touch you. Taint you.

“Stop thinking,” you ordered. “Whatever you’re thinking, just let it pass. Focus on me.”

This would happen again. Not tomorrow. Tomorrow he would wake up before you and make your favorite breakfast, not as an apology but as a thanks. He would lay on the couch with his head in your lap as you read aloud whatever you were currently reading. He would kiss you with the sweetness you deserve and love you with the heart he should have.

But when he came home with that look in his eyes in a month or maybe even in a year, and he got ready to push you away, you would simply sit on the edge of the bed and bring a grown man to his knees.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood angst #honey's 3k celebration

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niiine · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍

Character(s). Wanderer (Scaramouche)

Synopsis. Wanderer's voice lines (omg talk about redundancy) as your slow burn love story.

Fluff, comfort, CLICHE! CLICHE! CLICHE!

Mentions of Scara being taller than the reader. F! reader (because this is safer. I keep messing up gn reader fics because I always put her or any fem pronouns.)

Surely you don't expect me to proofread, right?

Not all of his voice lines are included, only the few where I can write something I enjoy BUT STILL WHY IS THIS SO LONG? Might do Xiao next but idk.

Babygirl Xiao ver.

NAMES

The first time you met was when lesser Lord Kusanali introduced you to the wanderer as his temporary companion. Something the latter deemed unnecessary as he will be staying under the Dendro Archon's supervision for a while.

It would be nice to have someone to talk to aside from me. The archon mused before leaving the two of you, saying something about discussing a few things with the traveller.

Your eyes travelled towards the lad in front of you, slender figure towering over yours. And his eyes— you couldn't point a finger at the emotions blaring through it, He's scary.

You inquire about his name, trying to start a proper conversation that may make him feel comfortable. But then all he did is stare at you for a good three seconds before clicking his tongue and walks away.

Talk about manners.

A bit irked by his actions, you followed through his steps before yanking his sleeves, "I asked what's your name"

The irritation in your voice and your bold actions amused the lad, if Kusanali thinks it's a good thing to have another companion, then surely she'll not complain if he enjoys himself a little, right?

"I've gone by many names throughout my life—" you noticed how he paused, and a flash of misery waved in his indigo orbs "But you can call me anything you want. Just don't disappoint me by your choices"

It took you days to decide, until you learned from the traveler that he was referred to as SCARAMOUCHE before things happen.

When you told the lad that it is what you plan on addressing him as, he refused right away. But your words struck something in him and somehow, he's glad it is what you've decided to.

"You've had so many unwanted things that relates to this name, and I want to turn it around."

SMALL TALKS

He always looks at you with bored eyes and crossed arms before turning his back at your every attempt to spark little chat.

And when I say every time, it means every time. Your first few days accompanying the lad were just awkward with him denying you any form of conversation.

But don't get me wrong, as much frustration it gave you, the wanderer is enjoying it. How your nose scrunch up, vivid annoyance, etc. He's loving how much entertainment you're giving him.

You've caught up to this, you really do. But you just want to feel the satisfaction of making him talk. Besides, how are you gonna comply to your archon's wishes if you can't talk to him?

That is until you stumbled unto the man in question sleeping. His face drawn in between fear and resentment as his chest heaved heavily, a drop of tears adorns his visage— A nightmare.

You shake the man awake, saving him from further heartbreak the dreamland is serving him.

And when he opened his eyes to look at you—archon's, when he looked at you. The steel emotions are gone, it doesn't looks like he's intimidating or anything alike.

To you, Scaramouche looks like a love deprived child.

His eyes flashed pain and exhaustion boring holes onto yours before he regained composure, the usual wanderer now back.

Yet you noticed how his hands still tremble, so you took it in yours, him wincing in the process. "What are your doing?"

"I don't know, but I'm here" you really don't, yet as he laid his head on your shoulders, shushing you as he do so, you know you're doing something good.

"Don't speak. It's aggravating when you try not to be awkward with silence"

ATTACHMENTS

If he weren't so pretty, you might have bruised his face by now.

Three months have passed after your fated interaction with the wanderer. And in such time, your patience isn't getting any longer.

"What? Gonna cry to Mama Kusanali now and ask to take you away from the meanie?" Scaramouche taunted you, just like yesterday, and the day before, and so on. "Such a crybaby, this is why you've got no lover still"

"Hah?! As if you have one! You're so tactless people will scurry away even before you speak" you spat back, missing the way he flinched at the thought.

"Heh? You think I've got a sharp tongue? I just tell things the way I see it. Isn't your problem that you're too sensitive?"

You end up arguing more, of course. But much to your amusement, and unusual worry, the lad toned down his insults for the following days.

You tried to confront him and his poor attempt at being friendly, but it's Scaramouche we're talking about. There's no way in hell he'll let you have what you want.

"Fine, fine. If you don't want to tell me, then don't" you notice how his face contorts into that of his when he's about to insult you, but then he holds it back.

You're not sure where you'll be shocked at. The way he controls his mouth, or his next choice of words—

"Since—since Buer brought you hear, you will not leave me right away even if I'm a bit tactless—right? "

I'M HERE

You watch his eyes narrow at the painful memory as he recalls what his creator did to him. Scara barely talks, and you appreciate the small moments he decides to tell stories about him self.

But when hurt become evident in his indigo orbs, you feel guilty for asking the wanderer.

He probably guessed your thoughts, flicking your forehead and muttering "I don't need pity, dumbass" before hiding his emotions once again.

"I don't pity you, idiot—" you started, gaining his attention. "You're kind. The world did things that made you mean though" he rolled his eyes at your words, ready to say something but you beat him to it

"But I admire you. You're strong. You've been wronged so many times and yet you're still willing to atone"

Your companion looks at you with confusion adorning his pretty face, words long died down in his throat so you decided to speak more.

"They may leave you, but I won't. If there will be a time that the strong you needs someone to wipe your tears, "

You took his gentle digits into yours, on usual occasion, he may have slap it away, but something tells him not to.

"I'm here. I will be here. " and with that, you have his eternal, undying loyalty.

SPECIAL TREATMENT

"Buer told you to bring an umbrella, didn't she?" you pursed your lips at his words. Your archon did remind you about bringing the said item, but then the sun was all high and mighty earlier today that you decided to neglect her words.

"Yes, but it doesn't look like it's gonna rain today!" you huffed, surely he wouldn't be that drenched if you two share his hat, right?

"But it did. So now, suffer"

Annoyed at the lad, and by the fact that he's right, you proceeds to stomp your feet away from the shed the two of you are currently residing, determined to get back to the city before the downpour comes heavy.

The wanderer watch as you angrily walked away from his direction. His idea of staying a little longer outside with you now in the dumps because your stubborn ass can't get a hint.

Sighing, he unleashes his elemental skill and hover towards you.

You met his indigo eyes, annoyance still vivid in yours. "You act like a five year old sometimes"

His words, as usual, irked you. but then the irritation quickly dissipates when he put his hat on your head and gestures you to climb up his back as he kneeled.

"We don't have the whole day dumbass"

You comfortably settled on his back while he secure your knees.

The journey back to the city was silent until you speak, and archons, the wanderer is grateful that his face is hidden from your sight.

"You smell nice"

CONFESSIONS

"Just do it"

You hesitantly placed your palms on his before he maneuvered your body and carried you princess style.

"Scara not too high!" you warned as he gives you a soft chuckle and called you a scaredy cat.

"Look" you heard him say, gesturing towards the scenery the night of Sumeru City can offer. To say that it was breathtaking was an understatement— the image before you is enchanting.

The flickering lights of the busy streets adorned the darkened city, and the stars above aren't taking any competition into account. The air up high is cold, considering the altitude, but something keeps you warm.

Scaramouche.

"It's beautiful"

The wanderer's gaze flicks towards you and saw how in awe you are at the view. He wonders, will you ever look at him the same way? he'll never know.

"Of course it is." he huffed, proud that he get to show you such a wonderful view. He almost dropped you, though, when you voiced out another thought of you.

"Do you consider me as pretty as this?"

one... two... three seconds and you brushed it off with a laugh. His silence is enough proof that once again, you sound so stupid.

"Kidding. idiot."

You thought that the discussion is over, but then when you were about to wave him good bye for the day, you felt a small tug at your sleeves.

You turned around to see a flustered wanderer, his eyes avoiding yours. "There's only one similarity between you and this city,"

He began, not entirely sure of whether to continue his little speech or not.

"I'm in peace."

Your heart flutters at his words. Maybe he feels the same way about you, maybe he doesn't. But he's an immortal, and you have a lifetime.

#scaramouche x oc #scara x reader #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader angst #genshin scara #kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin impact #wanderer #wanderer x y/n #genshin wanderer #wanderer x reader #yae publishing house #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact screenshots

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

Text

Carpe Noctem 14

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Lloyd eases you back against him. You feel awkward, naked, your back flush to his torso, in the large tub. There’s more than enough room for both of you but it’s crowded nonetheless. He drags his hand up your side and grazes the curve of your chest. You feel the twitch beneath you.

He nudges your head back to rest on his shoulder. The tension tapers away from his body as he reclines beneath you. He keeps his hand just below your chin as his other walks up and down your figure, from thigh, to hip, to waist, to tits. You can’t help but be on edge.

You grip the side of the tub, too nervous to let all your weight down on him. His breath rocks you subtly as he purrs with each breath. He’s getting harder for the minute and entirely unashamed of it. He dips a hand beneath the surface, lifting you slightly to let his dick pop up completely.

He lets you back down, his erection firmly against the small of your back. You try not to shudder. You’re not necessarily revolted, not by him, more disappointed in yourself. You feel your pelvis burning already. You’re too weak, you can’t take anymore.

His hand crawls over the top of your thigh as his other hand hooks under your arm. He gropes your tit, meanwhile his other hand finds its way to your vee. He taps on your tender flesh and you squeeze your legs together. It’s a poor show of resistance as he pokes between them and you splay open to his touch.

You whimper as he delves between your folds, his warmth revealing the cool slickness there. He tuts and bites the shell of your ear. He centers on your clit, spreading your lips with ring finger and index, as he roll his middle finger over your bud. He draws tight circles that quickly have you quiver.

You heave and clutch the porcelain tighter. He follows the line of your arm and unclasps your hand from the tub. He guides it up and over your head, nestling it against his own. You can’t help but grip him tightly, hips rocking under the water as you goad him on.

How does he do this to you? You don’t understand. You don’t love him, not like you do Johnny. He’s barely more than a stranger, yet that thought alone is enough to spark a spatter of heat through you. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, babbling and begging as Lloyd’s fingers dance frantically.

You clamp his hand between your thighs and buck, cumming with a splash of water as he chuckles. The pique is short lived and leaves you to your shameful afterglow. You forged the tugging need that drove your body over your mind and turn your head to dwell in regret.

What would Johnny think? Maybe he was right all along. You were loyal to him but look how quickly you became… this?

“Don’t think about him when you’re with me,” Lloyd warns as his hand trails down further and he curls his fingers inside you, “or I’ll have to make you forget.”

He moves his hand, pressing against your clit as he builds the pulsing pressure. You croak and tear your arm down to grip his wrist. It hardly deters him as he wiggles his hand faster and faster. You ache hotly around him, overworked but desperate once again for another release.

“The only thought you should be having about that cuck,” he growls against your head, “is how I’ve already fucked more orgasms out of you than he ever could.”

You gasp and spasm, his words driving your climax as much as his touch. You shake atop him, wrapped up in his hold and the pleasure he deals. Your eyes roll back and all you can think of is that moment and the blinding heat that overtakes your being.

👄

The path from the tub back to your bed is hazy. You only know that the maid must have taken the opportunity to intrude. The bed is made neatly and your belongings are in the corner with the basket of goodies. Lloyd sits you against the headboard and you pull a pillow between you and the hard frame.

Before he can pull away, you catch his wrist. He looks down at you with half a scowl, staring at how you clutch his wrist. You look at the bruises around his eye, the swelling in his nose, and the small split along the bridge. You frown.

“I’m sorry he did that to you,” you murmur.

He tugs but relents, turning to you completely with a crooked smirk, “Let me say the asshole isn’t so tough when his punching bag hits back. Trust me, he looks worse.” He gently slips his arm from your grasp, “always has but now he’s hideous as fuck.”

“Oh,” you swallow.

“Don’t take it to heart, babe, I’ve had worse–”

“Did you put ice on it? It’s starting to flare up–”

“Look, sugar tits, I’m fine–”

“Do you have witch hazel? Those bruises are only going to get darker–”

“Christ almighty, I’m fine. Why don’t you take a look in the mirror before you worry about my face?”

“But… I owe you,” you frown, “and it has to hurt.”

“The only thing you owe me is a good fuck once you’re back on your feet,” he scoffs, crossing his arms as the towel droops low on his hips, “I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, but…”

“I’m not a baby.”

“I didn’t say that either. I just… want to help.”

His brows furrow and he huffs. He shakes his head and stomps away. He goes to the bag he hastily packed and takes out the lamp, setting it to the side as he searches the depths. He pulls out a long tee, the striped one you wear on your period.

He nears you again and drops it over your legs. You thank him but that alone makes his wince.

“Like I said, we fuck and we go on our way,” he backs up, “you should get your shit together. You got work tomorrow.”

He spins on his heel and swiftly leaves the room. You sit puzzled, groaning as you reach for the tee shirt. His sharp shift in demeanour reminds you of Johnny in some ways; one moment sweet as pie, the next cold and distant. Similar but not the same.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark!lloyd hansen #the gray man #carpe noctem #series #drabble #au #the club

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flowercrowngods · 10 months

Text

The click of the Zippo opening and closing is almost hypnotic, lulling Steve into that familiar satisfaction of just the right noise at just the right frequency as he watches Robin’s wrist flicking the lighter open and closed, her arms stretched above her like she’s trying to touch the ceiling. Steve’s hands are gently swaying next to hers, in the nonexistent breeze of his bedroom.

It’s one of their weird private moments; where they get to have everything being just right that would get them questioning and judgemental glances from everyone else. The tingling sensation in their arms as the blood flows down and away from their hands, leaving them heavy and floaty in a way that never fails to ground them. But there’s also a safety to this moment, a security that they just get to have this without judgment.

Just the flick of the lighter and not a word spoken for over half an hour now.

Sometimes Robin laments, How am I supposed to ever find a girlfriend when this is my version of quality time? This is just weird. I’m weird.

Maybe, but it’s fun, Steve had said once, staring at the veins in his hands while a large water bottle was balancing on his forehead.

She had sighed and snatched the water bottle from his face to plant it on hers, admitting, It is fun.

“Do you ever wonder if there’s like…” Robin interrupts their silence, the Zippo never faltering, Steve’s eyes still fixed on it like all the answers to the questions of the universe lie somewhere in the peeling black foil.

“Hm?”

“Like, a point?”

“A point?” Steve asks, still following the lighter with his eyes, even as Robin stops flicking it open and closed and starts playing with the spark wheel and stone. There’s no flame yet, though, and it looks like she’s just stroking it almost reverently.

“Yeah, like a reason that we’re still, like, doing things.”

Steve frowns, lowering one of his arms to feel the blood flowing back into his hand, the sensation warm and familiar. Like a reminder. There’s blood in your body. You’re alive.

Is there a point, though?

“No,” he says eventually.

“No?”

“No. I don’t think there’s one. We just are. Not like we can stop.”

“Well, we could,” she says, and in one second there’s nothing, just words hanging in the air. The next, there’s a flame coming from the lighter as Robin presses hard and fast enough on the spark wheel. It stays there, the little flame.

We could.

Steve says nothing, just watches the flame as the blood gets drained from his right arm once more.

“Sometimes I wanna burn down your house. And your car, too. I watch you die in there sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“Your car. Sometimes it’s just; there’s these thoughts. Or, like, scenarios, and they’re super duper real in my head, and I have to remind myself they’re not. Just makes me wanna drench it all in gasoline and just… boom.”

“Boom,” Steve says, and it’s not the reaction that he should be giving, not the reaction of a sane person — but then, sane people don’t play with their lighters in bed or listen to their best friend’s arsonist tendencies. Sane people don’t see what Steve Harrington see, they don’t do what he does. What he had to do. When what he should have done was fail some tests, drink some beers and kiss some girls.

Is there a point?

“I promise when I get a new car, I’m gonna burn this one with you, yeah?”

“Deal,” Robin says, and the little flame dies. The steady click is back, and Steve smiles a little.

“And the house.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The clicking stops, and before he knows it, Robin’s body is wrapped around his, her head resting on his chest.

“I think that makes for a good point, though,” she says eventually, and Steve perks up.

“Cuddles?”

“You.”

“Me? Isn’t that a little stupid? And scary? Like, choosing a person to be the point in general.”

She shrugs against him, reaching up to hold his hand and link their fingers in the air above them.

“Maybe, but I think most points are either stupid or scary. It’s why people talk about it so often without ever, like, really saying something. I think you can be my stupid, scary point, Steve Harrington.”

Swaying their linked hands gently above them, Steve smiles. “Then I think that makes you my stupid, scary point, Robin Buckley.”

“Deal,” she says again, and there’s less of a threat about it this time.

#platonic stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #steve & robin #JUST LET THEM BE WEIRD #weird like my brain letsgooo #idk just some autistic stobin u feel me #except i do all of this and i’m not autistic AT ALL what are you talking about i’m not even close to being neurodivergent no sir ask my dad #these are not words idk what they are #dio words #arsonist steve harrington #arsonist robin buckley #intrusive thoughts #<- sorry i forgot to tag for this if you need a proper cw just let me know

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dantesunbreaker · 8 months

Text

Red Velvet Lines

(Dracopia)Papa Emeritus IV x GN!Reader

It's the Clergy's annual Halloween ball, and you're without a date. But its seems a certain pair of mismatched eyes are watching you from across the room.

TW: Alcohol, blood drinking, suggestive themes, implied hypnotism 2.3K words (There is potential to write a NSFW part two later? Maybe?)

GIF by preqvelle

All Hallows Eve is one of the most celebrated occasions amongst the clergy, and tonight is no exception you think as you find yourself mingling amongst your fellow siblings of sin. Every year a grand ball is held, siblings and ghouls alike invited to in or out of costume to drink, dance, and socialize. Many come with partners in tow, few getting a kick out of silly couples costumes, while others come alone. Whether it be in hopes to leave with a newfound bed mate for the night, or simply to have a good time by themselves. You aren’t sure which of those you would consider yourself.

Without a date for the night, you find yourself sticking to the outskirts of the room, mingling with your siblings and making a clear point to avoid the dance floor. But as the night drags on, you find yourself leaning against the bar, whiskey sour in hand. That’s when you feel eyes on you from across the room, a prickling tingle that has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. Play it cool. Don’t draw any extra attention. Slowly, casually, you turn around, eyes making a wide sweep until they stop on a pair of eyes staring right back at you. Breath leaves you in a hot gasping huff. Cool winter mint and frigid white ice watches your every move. Something about his eyes both chills you to the bone and sparks a burning flame at your core.

Of course you know who he is, the former Cardinal turned Papa. But you can’t understand why his attention is on you of all people. There were plenty of other brothers and sisters of sin in attendance. Siblings that are far more attractive than your own plain features. Yet, you still feel his gaze on you even as you turn back to your drink. Why would he have any interest in you? You attempt to put the current reigning Papa far from your mind, focusing on savoring the last sip of your drink. But that turns out to be a little hard to do.

“May I have this dance, mio caro?” You spin around at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder. There is a flutter of your heart as you come face to face with the same multi-colored eyes.

“Oh, um... Papa?” You stammer nervously, wringing your hands and shifting from foot to foot. “Are you sure that you want to dance with me? I mean.. I’m sure there are plenty of beautiful sisters that are simply dying for the opportunity to dance with you. And well.. I’m just me.”

A warm, hearty chuckle is your response, dismissing your self depreciative comments as a gloved hand takes yours, whisking you away to the center of the dance floor. It amazes you how effortlessly he moves you, as if you were floating on air, pulling you to his chest with practiced ease.

“I have no doubts that there are many siblings desperate for the chance to be in your place,” Copia hums into your ear, keeping your hand in his, while the other hand rests on your waist. “But, they all share the same flaw. None of them are you, piccolino.”

Heat flushes your cheeks, eyes cast down to your feet with a wave of embarrassment while giving no resistance as Copia begins to sway you both in time with the song softly echoing around you. That feeling soon is all but forgotten though as suddenly you are being spun out from Copia’s arms, only to circle back in until your chests touch. You are far from being a dancer, more than likely to trip over your own feet. But Copia seems to know how to lead you well enough, swaying you both across the room with ease and skill that would make onlookers think you have been doing this for years.

As the song draws close to an end, Copia pulls you up from a dip and brushes his lips against the shell of your ear. “Let’s go outside, catch some air, si?” It’s a hushed whisper, only loud enough for you to hear, and you find yourself nodding in agreement before you have even processed what he said. Too caught up in feeling enraptured by the way he moves your body and holds you close.

The music fades, and Copia seamlessly transitions from dancing to holding your hand and leading you off the dance floor. Together you slip from the room unnoticed, a brisk walk through the corridors of the abbey until coming to a secluded balcony. It feels like a rush of adrenaline as you step outside into the crisp air, goosebumps rising as it feels like little pin pricks biting at your cheeks.

But that shoves to the back of your mind as you are spun around, back facing towards the beautiful gardens below. Something tells you that you should be afraid, ready to turn tail and run, but you are mesmerized by soft alluring eyes as Copia draws near. Under his spell, you don’t want to run. You would allow yourself to be devoured by the beast.

“Do you trust me, amore?” Your back presses into the cool stone of the railing, caged between Copia’s arms resting on either side of you. His voice is rich as honey, putting you at ease and leaving you wanting more. Even as he leans into you, breath tickling your neck, you can’t seem to resist the charm of his soft and sweet touches. No matter how much your brain screams no, your body succumbs and outweighs all rhyme or reason.

“Yes,” you whisper, breathless, eyes closing as your head tilts back at the feeling of Copia’s lips brushing the delicate skin of your neck.

You feel rather than hear the soft vibrations of Copia’s chest as he gives a pleased hum, a hand snaking around the back of your head and anchoring in your hair. Lips press against you, soft and warm along your neck, lulling you into a false sense of safety. For a moment later, you feel twin sharp pin pricks of pain from the very spot Copia presses against your neck. Eyes snap open, mouth dropping in a silent gasp as you clutch at Copia, fingers digging into one shoulder and grabbing a fistful of his hair. Tugging harshly barely has Copia moving even a fraction of an inch.

Warmth spreads from your neck, you can feel something trickle down past his lips in the brief second you break the vacuum seal Copia has on your flesh. Blood no doubt. Your blood. Though it should send fear striking down your spine, there is something about the way Copia’s tongue soothes over the wound he has created that has you slowly returning to a lax state in his arms. The grip in his hair loosens, the hand clawing at his shoulder smoothing to a soft caress as you instead hold him to you.

A sudden rush of euphoria seems to drip through your veins, pleasure keeping your limbs heavy and compliant. Pain fades until all you have to focus on is the feeling of Copia’s plush lips, the soft lapping of his tongue as he greedily drinks up whatever you have to offer him. Carding your fingers through Copia’s hair, you focus on the heat that pools between your thighs. You feel almost suspended on air, as if Copia’s teeth at your neck were the only thing keeping you from floating away.

But through your haze of ecstasy, you notice the freckles of black that are closing in on your field of view, sucking in a deep breath becoming suddenly difficult. A spike of fear hits your chest, but lethargic limbs keep you from being able to struggle. All you can manage is a trembling double tap to Copia’s shoulder as your fingers tighten in his hair. You plunge head first into darkness, a feeling of peace washing over you.

“Tesoro,” through the dark silence, a soft voice breaks through, calling to you in a loving tone.

Softly groaning, your heavy eyes gradually flutter open to find piercing eyes inches from your face, watching you with great intent. Your mind is foggy, but you recognize Copia’s gentle features. Though, the crimson that paints his bottom lip, bleeding into the once crisp white along his chin is peculiar. A lucid smile paints your face as a hand drops to cup his painted cheek.

“Guess I took a little too much this time.You were unconscious there for a few minutes” Copia gives you a sheepish look, arms around your back and supporting the back of your neck. “Mi dispiace amore mio. You taste so delizioso, I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s okay, C,” the smile on your face reaches your eyes, regaining your senses the longer that he holds you in his arms. “Besides, it’s not all on you. I should have signaled sooner.... I may have also gotten a bit too carried away. Still haven’t quite learned my limits yet.”

Gathering your strength, you push up to crash your lips against Copia’s in a heated kiss that is all tongue and teeth. You taste the salty copper tang on his lips, a unique hint of sweetness that you’ve come to learn is entirely you. It doesn’t take long though before you need to pull away, gasping to suck much needed oxygen into your lungs. Copia of course has full composure, though his paint is a bit worse for wear. Black and white paint has mixed with your blood into a dull brown from lip to chin.

“Give me a minute to get my breath back and I’ll fix your paint up,” you sigh between gasps, holding Copia by the shoulders as you work on supporting your own weight. There is a soft twinkle in his pearly eye that is full of adoration. "We can't have you going back looking like this, Sister Imperator would be livid."

Gentle lips brush yours, not quite a full kiss, but enough you feel their presence without being deprived of the room to breathe.

"Why bother going back?" Copia's nose touches your own, his cool breath fanning across your cheeks. "I can think of plenty of other things I'd much rather be doing with you back in my chambers."

You scoff, giving a playful swat to his shoulder. "Because a certain Papa is expected to give a speech, and I won't be taking the fall for the reason you are late again,” you fix him with a stern glare, recalling the reaming you received from Sister the last time.

At least Copia has the decency to give a flash of shame, like a puppy being caught being naughty. But it doesn’t last long.

"You can have me however you want later tonight,” you catch the look of mischief in Copia’s eyes and quickly amend your statement. “After! You can after you are finished with your expected Papal duties for the night."

Overly dramatic, Copia deflates, bottom lip jutting out in an adorable little pout. But he concedes. He is just as worried about the harsh lecturing you both would get for being late the second time in a row. It’s best not to play on thin ice. So Copia doesn’t fight it, your eyes locked together as you take the time to collect yourself, placing a firm hand at the center of Copia's chest when you feel you are able to manage on your own.

Knowing what to expect as the outcome from your game of cat and mouse, you have one of the emergency make up kits that would normally be used for when Copia was on tour stashed behind one of the statues in the corner of the balcony. While ideally you would want to clear his whole face of paint and start with a blank slate, that wasn’t an option. It would take too much time, and you would be late, which if that were to be the case you would rather skip it all and go to Copia’s room.

So you settle for scrubbing at the stubborn paint of his chin, only stopping once it gives way to pale white skin. Once patted dry, you dip into the white grease paint, slathering a thick layer across the bottom half of Copia’s face. When you have achieved a full and even coverage, you shift your focus to touching up the black of his lips. As you set about setting the paint, you think that it certainly isn’t your best work, but under the dim lights of the ballroom you doubt anyone will notice.

“All done,” you humm happily, giving Copia a light pat on the shoulder as you pack the supplies back into the kit. When you glance back up, Copia’s smile is practically radiant.

“So,” Copia takes a step back, giving an extravagant twirl before spreading his arms out as if to display himself. “How do I look, amore mio?”

“Handsome as ever, Papa,” you smile fondly as you tuck the paint kit back away in its original hiding spot, knowing one of the ghouls would later come by to retrieve it. “Come, let’s get back before Sister sends someone after us.”

Stepping in stride with you, Copia spreads an arm out across your back, tucking you close into his side as you enter the building. Music still filters down the hall, a quiet hum that lets you know Copia’s cue hasn’t been missed yet. You might just yet might be able to go without any suspicion being aroused.

“Amore,” Copia however, cuts your train of thought short just as you open the double doors to the ballroom. “My apologies..but you uh have a little..something dripping from your neck.”

Of course, you catch sight of the twin red velvety lines slowly dribbling down the side of your neck in the reflection of Copia’s white eye....Just as you hear Sister clearing her throat from beside you. Copia gives you a sympathetic smile, but you can see the mirth in his eyes. But in the end, you think that your fun is worth a little ass chewing from Sister.

#papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader #copia x reader #popia x reader #dracopia x reader #dracopia #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #hot damn this was fun to write #spooky season is upon us #not getting my hopes up that this will be well received but damn do I love this one

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monzamash · 1 year

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the good, the bad and what could’ve been — lando norris (part three)

summary – nine years. an age gap that you didn’t know would cause so much heartache. you tell yourself that it’s fine, he tells you that he could give you the world but this was a cautionary tale of what could’ve been if you just let love win. pairing – lando norris x you (female reader) chapter warning – 18+ (smut, language, age gap/older woman) word count – 8k a/n – the third and final part! thank you all for being so patient x inspired by charlie puth's song called boy. masterlist

part one | part two | part three

Previously...

For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. And maybe you didn’t need all the wisdom and baggage that came with someone older, someone who had already lived a life. In contrast, Lando was exciting and living life to the fullest, travelling the world, seeing it all and not burdened by responsibility.

But that’s what made him the dangerous choice. All these insecurities and fears swirled around in your head as you fell asleep in his warm embrace, limbs tangled together like a web, tender between your thighs and an ache in your heart.

You were falling in love with Lando; that much was true but what would the cost be of handing your heart over to someone who had the world at his feet, everything still to experience?

Winter had come and gone and spring was blossoming in all it’s glory, bringing with it new opportunity. Little by little, leaves sprouted on the branches, chirping birds returned to their homes and the scent of fresh flowers filled the busy streets of London – life resuming to normal after a long, brutal winter. The New Year proved to be quite fruitful, with you landing a freelancing job and loving it. It was time to recalibrate your goals and aspirations, reconsider where you saw yourself in five years.

The closing of one chapter gave you permission to want more, to expect more than the mundane and experience what the world had to offer. You’d settled for less for far too long but now you were finally stepping up and advocating for yourself – to yourself.

“You seem so happy.”

Rae couldn’t help herself. She’d kept tight-lipped until now, sensing the shift in your mood weeks ago and loving how much you’d been smiling lately. And she knew why. A certain curly haired man had shown you what happiness looked like, what it felt like and most importantly, how it could mend a broken spirit. You were stumbling through life, chasing unattainable goals and it made you miserable. You were free-spirited, a lone wolf – and Lando allowed you to explore that, to be spontaneous.

“I am,” You simply replied and took a sip of the coffee she’d made you, watching your eyes glimmer in the morning light. There was a sparkle ever present when you talked about him or thought about him – a spark ignited deep within. Burning.

“And how does Lando feel about being the reason you’re so happy?” Rae asked with a sly, knowing smile as she clasped her hands under her chin, waiting for you to spill all the tea she’d missed out on over the last couple of week.

“Don’t know, to be honest. I assume he knows he’s the reason – and hopefully I’m part of the reason why he’s racing so well. We talk nearly every day…” You confessed, cheeks every so lightly blushing underneath the thin layer of foundation.

Rae nodded and flicked through her phone, “He’s going very well apparently. Mark gives me an update every weekend – kinda strange to think that he’s on the other side of the world right now.” She glanced up with furrowed brows, face-palming her forehead, “As if you need to be reminded of that. I'm sorry.”

You shrugged, “It’s totally fine. I actually… No, I shouldn’t say it.” You hesitated, knowing that if you said the words out loud, they would suddenly become real and you didn’t want to put those thoughts and feelings out into the universe – not yet.

“Well you have to now,” Rae chuckled, her full attention all yours.

“I thought that maybe he would’ve asked me to come along to a race – his home one at least but it hasn’t come up… and I’ve been pathetically hinting at it – it’s really lame so forget I said anything,” You quickly muttered, fumbling over your words and feeling your heart start to race.

“That’s like, the opposite of lame. You should ask him.”

“No fucking way. God, even just thinking about asking him makes me want to throw up,” You laughed, almost choking on your words as if it was the last thing on earth you would ever do, “No, if he wants me there, he’ll ask.”

Rae nodded and went back to the coffee in her hands, “Your call but I think he’d appreciate you being forward. I can hear how much you mean to him when you’re on the phone… don’t take what you have for granted.”

“Sage advice, Sensai.”

You promised to think about it. But things were perfect with Lando and the last thing you wanted to do was over step boundaries when everything had been smooth sailing. You strongly believed that if he wanted you there, he would ask and you were sticking with it. It wasn’t the end of the world if he didn’t either, and maybe he was worried that the whole spectacle would scare you away. The endless rotation of thoughts tumbled around in your head until you finally fell asleep, curled up in his bed, waiting for him to come home.

The sound of his soft voice a few hours later woke you from your nap, “What are you doing here? Where’s your Mum?” You heard him ask your puppy who was skating around his feet, scratching the floorboards and no doubt nearly weeing herself with excitement.

The faint squeak of the bedroom door made your heart flip in your chest, watching him step through with a small smile. His eyes were dark and those wild curls you loved fell flat over his forehead – physically shattered from a whole day of travel, flight cancelations delaying his return home but he exhaled when he spotted you propped up in his bed, relieved that you were still here after weeks away. A weight had been taken off his weary shoulders when he saw your face.

“Welcome home,” You whispered as he dropped his luggage at the door and unclipped the backpack on his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

Lando jumped up onto the bed like a shot and summoned the last remaining ounces of energy he had, crawling over your duvet-covered body. You had thought about surprising him with something cute, like a new two-piece lingerie set because that’s what you’d always done for men. Dolled yourself up until you were unrecognisable, servicing them and not wearing what you wanted. But Lando worshiped the ground you walked on, made you feel sexier than you’d ever felt before. Oversized t-shirts and track pants were his love language. Comfort was important to him and there was nothing he loved more than seeing you relaxed. Cosy and content.

“Missed you more.” You sighed as Lando grasped the duvet and ripped it back, along with the sheets; a smirk teasing on his lips, “Doubt that very much.”

The unruly curls were even more frazzled close up, the bags under his eyes darker than the last time you’d seen him. His cheeks were hollowed, bone structure more prominent and small blemishes had surfaced on his soft skin, reminding him that even in the chaos of a double header, he still needed to follow a skincare routine. His sullen features made your heart sink as he hovered above you; his cheeky expression the only thing keeping you from asking if he was okay, if he was struggling. There was glimmer in his eyes that settled your fears, a bright spark igniting behind the bloodshot whites giving you silent reassurance that being here with you was the lifeline that he needed right now.

“I thought about this every day… about you, about us. Feel like a muppet for being away from a creature as beautiful as you for so long,” Lando chuckled through his confession – reflecting on how ridiculous the last few weeks had been, how stupid he was for not calling more.

“A really cute muppet though,” You teased, making him giggle and lose balance, fatigued arms giving out and causing him to land on top of you with a loud huff. You took his entire body weight with a sigh, arms wrapped around his torso; head nestled into the crook of his neck. Lando did the same – lips dancing over the shell of your ear, whispering how beautiful you looked, how desperately he craved the feeling of you tangled up with him but his voice was strained, depleted.

Lando managed to lift himself up and save you from the crush, propped up on his elbow, eyes trained on the side of you face in the dimly lit bedroom. The only light source coming from the laptop to your left, white light blasting up the dark walls as you laid peacefully, fingertips brushing over the exposed skin on your shoulder.

“Did Max let you in? I didn’t see him downstairs,” Lando asked, curious to know how you managed to surprise him like this, welcoming him home with open arms.

“He gave me his key – he’s gone up to Bristol for some racing thing, he said. And Chompy and I couldn’t wait to see you so he offered. I hope that’s okay…”

You felt awkward all of a sudden, like you’d overstepped one of those invisible boundaries that were in place, about to explode on a grenade. But Lando’s rolling eyes softened you, a smile erupting on his face as he leaned in and captured your lips, “More than okay. Wish you were here all the time.”

He didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did. Moving in together wasn’t on the agenda but he appreciated you being there tonight, a familiar face to ground him again after weeks spent flying around the world, Austria being the last stop.

“How long are you back for this time?”

The question was laced in faux curiosity – you knew how long you had him in London, down to the hour if you were being totally honest. The innocent question made Lando think, mind flicking through the days like a diary in the palms of his hands, “A bit over a week, I reckon. Silverstone’s this weekend – home race,” He replied animatedly, eyes wide and shining bright.

“Exciting,” You whispered as Lando stretched his back, hand squeezing your hip.

“I’ve got you a pass for the weekend but realised I hadn’t actually asked if you were free… You are, right?” His question quelled all of your fears of him thinking you weren’t interested in his life, not willing to take that next step with him.

You nodded, simply, wordless while you turned onto your side. Lando smiled and closed his eyes as your hands trawled through his uncontrollable hair, curls tangling around your fingers while you pulled him closer and pressed another sweet kiss to his lips, “I’ll be shitting myself the whole time but that’ll be out weighed by seeing you in your race suit, I guess.”

Lando huffed out a soft chuckle, eyes cracking open ever so slightly – playfully narrowed, “I do look really sexy in the kit.” You hummed in agreement, nodding while closing the gap again, lips softly touching before his hand snaked up and held your jaw gently, holding you in place.

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other; slowly drifting off to sleep. Having Lando home brought you more joy than you thought it would, a comfort that caught you by surprise. You were an independent woman, self-reliant but he gave you something that you didn’t even know you needed – companionship. A sounding board to all your shit, someone who listened without judgement, unfiltered opinions on anything and everything.

And unbeknownst to you, Lando had made it his mission to be that person for you. He was quickly learning all your whims, the good and the bad and appreciating how you saw the world so differently to him – so wise. This was, after all, his first serious relationship and he was in uncharted waters, with an older woman.

But once you’d gotten to know more about each other than what was underneath your clothes, the age gap was merely a factoid in your story. You were everything he could’ve conjured up in a dream journal – smart, sexy, funny, down to earth and into him. Well-travelled, cultured, successful; you were everything and still, after three months, couldn’t believe that he was the one you were falling in love with; that you were his.

The morning of race day was utter madness. Lando was running late, as per usual, rushing around his apartment trying to find his sunglasses until you picked them up from his kitchen counter with a smile. Thank you, he whispered, pressing a hurried kiss to your cheek before hiking up his backpack and pulling you towards the front door. You’d kept your outfit simple and boringly beige, not wanting to stand out too much in the paddock. The white knitted dress that came down to mid-thigh, black tights, combat boots and a taupe Burberry trenchcoat did the job at staying low-key, blending into the background noise and avoiding the chaos.

Max had promised to metaphorically hold your hand the entire day, making sure you weren’t separated from the small Quadrant crew that had also been invited along to the British Grand Prix. You didn’t know much about them, nor did you realise how renowned they were but everywhere they went, they were bombarded with people asking for selfies and autographs.

“It’s getting fucking stupid now. We’ve gotta go!” Ria, who you’d met barely five minutes ago, yelled at Max who was pointing towards the paddock entrance with a panicked look on his face. “You go first babes,” She smiled, more of less pushing you towards the turnstile with your pass around your neck, finally making it through the gates.

You wondered how they ever got used to that – the constant attention. And if it was this bad for them, you couldn’t imagine how intense it was for Lando. Truth be told, you’d never actually gone out on an official date together, always opting for post-mates and spending quality time alone at home – away from prying eyes and ill-mannered people who had no sense of personal space. But would it be like this everywhere you went with him? Were you prepared to have your whole life on display for the world to see? You had no clue.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Max exhaled, grasping your shoulder with sympathetic eyes. He was more shocked than you were about the whole situation and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how stunned he was, readjusting his Quadrant cap.

“Didn’t realise you were so famous, Maxy boy. Kind of impressed,” You teased back, earning a chuckle from Ria who had walked up beside you, arm linked with yours, “Don’t stroke his ego too much.”

“Good point.”

There were celebrities filing through the crowd in droves and the pit lane was absolutely loaded with people trying to get a glimpse of the teams. McLaren were the epitome of formula one in the United Kingdom, you’d been told and that was backed up ten-fold when you peeked into the garage, searching for their star drivers. Lando had spoken about Daniel fondly and admired the way he was able to put his head down and tune out the bullshit. You told him to let some of that resilience rub off on him, knowing that the external noise is never as bad as what’s going on inside his head. But you could only control one of the two.

You could almost see those internal thoughts swirling above Lando’s tilted head when you spotted him in the back of the garage – intently analysing jumbled numbers on a screen and biting his fingernails. He looked almost angelic standing amongst the madness in the white skin-tight fireproofs, suit folded down and hanging around his jutted hips. His thumb was basically in his mouth, teeth violently chomping away at the skin as he processed whatever it was the man beside him was saying, eyebrows rising when he mentioned something of interest.

“Don’t be offended if he doesn’t come over and say hello – he’s usually in the zone by now and blocks everyone out.” Max explained, managing your expectations and you appreciated the heads up. You didn’t know what to expect from the day but having a reassuring voice giving you the low down helped more than he knew.

“Oh, of course. It’s awesome to see it all in person – so much crazier than on TV,” You replied with wide eyes and an understanding smile.

Max nodded and continued to meet people while you stood beside him and the Quadrant team, taking in the scenes. The main difference between being at the track on race day and watching it on TV were the television crews. Everywhere you looked there were several people swinging around a cameraman, trying not to run into people or disrupt other stations broadcasts. You chuckled at a couple of the pit crew dancing in the background of a shot, knowing that their weekend had been a lot longer than anyone else’s here.

You were so preoccupied watching them fooling around that you hadn’t felt someone sneaking up behind you, hand gently gripping your waist; the whispered ‘hi’ in your ear assuring you that it was Lando. His hand retreated before you spun around, the other holding a water bottle up to his mouth.

“Hi you,” You replied sweetly, instinctively reaching out to nudge his hip but deciding mid air to keep your hands to yourself. Lando noticed and chuckled as he took a gulp of water, eyes scanning your face.

“You’re a little bit sunburnt, baby.” He stated with a smirk, taking in your flushed cheeks and feeling his heart flip at how happy you looked. “Are you having fun?”

“Lots of fun. And I’m being very well looked after – thank you by the way,” You replied quietly, Lando taking a step forward so he could hear you over all the commotion. He scanned the small group of his closest friends and internally jumped for joy that they had stuck to their word and kept an eye out for you.

“Better fucking be. I’m paying them the big bucks,” Lando winked and pulled up the rope that was separating the two of you, “Want a tour?”

Naturally your eyebrows rose with excitement and you nodded, quickly whipping your head around to see where Max had gone and thankfully catching Ria’s attention. You pointed towards Lando who was already dragging you away and she held her hand up to her ear, gesturing for you to call her when you needed to meet up with them again. You figured there was enough time for this tour before Lando needed to be under lock and key and you hoped you weren’t being a distraction as you sheepishly followed him through the garage.

“I’m just gonna grab my gloves from my room and walk her back to the paddock,” Lando whispered to Jon, who had been one of the sweetest people you’d met so far. No worries mate, he replied with a smile before returning to his phone.

Once you were out of sight of the crowd and cameras, Lando held out his hand for you to take, clasping it firmly as he tugged you through the narrow hallways and behind the motorhomes set up side by side. He was strategic in his route, giggling when he spotted all the media looking around to bundle up drivers and team bosses for a quick comment before the race, “We’re so sneaky.”

You stayed close to him as he weaved you around once last corner and up a couple of steps, whipping the door closed as quickly as it was opened. The room was snug - only a few metres wide each way, a small daybed tucked against the wall and a desk beside you. Lando had video called you a couple of times from here, giving you the grand tour of his tiny drivers room but it was surreal to see his sanctuary in person.

“Wow, I knew it was small but you can barely swing a cat in here.” Your comment made Lando chuckle as he tidied the bed that he’d clearly been napping in before leaving to find you.

“But it’s cute and I like this a lot…” You pointed to the Polaroid stuck to the large mirror hanging above his desk – the photo was of the two of you on New Years Eve, tipsy and falling in love, “Softie.”

“How dare you call me a softie,” Lando scoffed, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling your back to his chest, trailing soft kisses up the side of your neck. “’Cause you’ve made me like this, you know.”

The rational little voice in your head was telling you to put ice on whatever Lando had on his mind, his hands doing all the talking as they skimmed over your stomach, heading north towards the two things he loved the most. You stopped their course and tutted, turning in his embrace and pining his hands to his chest, “Don’t get yourself all worked up before the race. We don’t have enough time.”

“Oh, there’s always time for this.” Lando wrestled out of your grip, way too easily you’ll admit and resumed his hold on your waist, seizing your lips in a deep kiss.

It took your breath away momentarily but you quickly snapped back to reality and slung your arms over his shoulders, bringing him closer again. He was warm to the touch, the skin on the nape of his neck sizzling under your fingertips, curls tangled from the humidity. Lando wasn’t fucking around when his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, splitting your lips and deepening the kiss even more. There wasn’t much you loved more than kissing him, wrestling each other for dominance through soft moans. The rush of blood between your thighs indicated that this was all a little bit too steamy for a pre-race catch up and you reluctantly pulled away, lips ghosting over his as you both caught your breath.

“You were right – I’m really fucking hard now,” Lando winked and brushed his fingers through his messy curls with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and shoved his chest, putting as much distance as you could between you in the tight confines.

“Zero self-control,” You playfully scolded and readjusted your trench as Lando stepped forward and straightened your collar, “But I can’t really talk because you look insanely sexy in this…” You tugged on the race suit hanging on his hips, wishing you could peel it off his body – right here, right now.

“Oh, really?” He taunted, “How sexy?”

“Like, bend me over this desk and fuck me sexy,” You stated bluntly and Lando threw his head back with a groan before rushing you with another kiss.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how desperate he was, hands friskily roaming your backside before he pulled himself away and grasped your face between his hands, “How I can simultaneously love you and hate you baffles me.”

Lando’s eyes were sincere, soft and mesmerized. You bit down on your lip, hiding the smile tugging on the corners of your mouth while you thought of a response worthy of his words. Of course you felt the same way but there was always something stopping you from saying it back. I love you too being the response Lando was looking for, pleading for. He’d said it so many times without hesitation, receiving a kiss or some kind of diversion every single time.

And it was killing him.

“I am a woman of many mysteries, my dear.”

Like a dagger to the heart.

“That is very true.” Lando averted his eyes from yours and brushed himself off, pulling the race suit over his shoulders and zipping it up. He was smiling and you breathed a sigh of relief, reassured that you hadn’t upset him before the race. At least that’s what you thought. Lando’s mind however, was racing – so many fears eating him up inside but he needed to focus on the challenge ahead.

And that’s what he did for the next three hours. Raced the wheels off that papaya car like his life depended on it, his sole focus was getting it over the checkered flag and having a respectable race after weeks of struggling to secure points.

“That’s P4, Lando – great race, mate.”

Lando cheering into his radio and thanking his team had you beaming with pride. He’d been doing it tough these past few races so finishing in the top five at his home race was exactly the kind of confidence boost he needed. It was a long season after all and he needed keep his spirits up – something that you were more than happy to help with.

“You were an absolute killer out there!” You enthused as your arms wrapped around Lando’s waist, pulling him into a hug with a contented smile. He immediately nuzzled into your neck and sighed, squeezing your shoulders in his embrace before pulling back with a grin. “You were amazing.”

“Time to celebrate, yeah?” Lando asked, glancing over at Max who was nodding with an equally large smile before leading everyone towards the parking lot.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

After rushing back to your apartment and changing into something nightclub appropriate, Max texted Lando the address for the place you would all be going to. A few of the other drivers had been invited, George Russell being the only one you’d been introduced to and all of Lando’s high school mates who had come along to the race. You knew from the second you stepped into the claustrophobic club that you’d be looking for a familiar face to latch onto, fully aware that your safety blanket would be pulled in every possible direction – and that’s exactly what happened.

You found yourself sitting alone in a small booth at the back of the club, watching Lando laughing along with his friends, smile lines more present now than you’d ever seen. The condensation on your glass had seeped down onto the table, a perfect excuse to distract you from the sickly pit forming in your stomach as you watched girl after girl attempt to make their move. It was a weird feeling – far from jealously. Guilt. A sense of shame rippled through your body as you watched him politely excuse himself and search the dance floor for you. I’m just going to the bathroom, you’d told him nearly twenty minutes ago. A little white lie to slip away but now, here you were, hiding from the man who loved you. Guilt-ridden.

“Can I sit?” You heard a loud voice ask, startling you out of your thoughts and into his chocolate brown eyes that were glistening under the dim lighting. Carlos Sainz.

“Of course. Congratulations on your win… you must be buzzing,” You leaned forward with praise, hoping he heard you over the loud music blasting through the speakers above.

He smiled in acknowledgement before taking a sip of his cocktail, “Ay, yes. Very happy but what makes me happier is to see little Lando so happy – he speaks of you a lot, you know? Doesn’t shut up sometimes…” Carlos trailed off with a knowing smirk, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows. He was tipsy.

“I’m sure he’ll hate you telling me that.” You returned the smile and grasped your glass for stability. There was something about what Carlos had said that made you nervous, pressured somehow when all he was doing was teasing his friend.

“I don’t get to make fun too much with him – so serious all the time but no,” Carlos mumbled, trying to keep track of his sentence, “Very happy he has found you.”

A couple of beats passed before you opened your mouth to speak but as you did, you felt a hand snake across your shoulder, sending a jolt down your spine before you turned to see who the hand belonged to. “Sneaking off with Sainz already? I thought you’d at least wait a couple of hours before leaving me for him.”

Lando was teasing and you knew that but Carlos in his drunken state waved his hands around like a madman, assuring his younger friend that he would do no such thing, to which Lando just snickered and brushed him off. She is beautiful though, Carlos loudly whispered, Lando's eyes catching yours as the Spaniard launched himself into his arms. It was comical and sweet the way the two of them stood there, silently hugging before Lando managed to escape his friends grip, slipping away as if nothing had happened and immediately meeting your eyes again.

“Wanna get out of here?” He mouthed; memories flashing back to the first time those words were muttered between the two of you – sparking this whole whirlwind romance. Of course you nodded, needing some fresh air and a new perspective, hoping the cloud of doubts swirling around in your subconscious for most of the night, and month, would just disappear.

The two of you hadn’t even made it through your front door before Lando’s hands were roaming your skin, fingertips leaving chills as they explored your body. You hadn’t had much to drink; a cocktail and a glass of bubbly in hospitality hours ago and Lando was the same – leaving the drinking to his mates like most of his nights out on the town. He wanted to have a clear mind for when he found himself alone with you, completely focused on the task at hand and soaking in every little detail so he could take that with him next weekend when he couldn’t roll over and have you whenever he felt like it. He hated leaving you like that – deprived of his touch.

“I don’t need foreplay,” You moaned into his mouth, breathless and needy as you straddled his lap – slowly grinding down and working you both into a whining mess. Lando had managed to lure you to the bedroom, mumbling something along the lines of your dog watching us fuck is a mood killer and you couldn't contest that. He loved taking you on the couch, hearing your screams echoing off the concrete walls downstairs but not tonight.

“That turned on for me, huh? Barely even touched you,” Lando teased while you lined him up, eyes never leaving his as you slid down and took every inch of him with ease. You nodded in response and leaned back, fingernails digging deep into his tensed thighs as you rocked back and forth, setting the pace and finding that angle that had you aching with pleasure.

“That’s feeling un-fucking-believable for me, baby. Holy shit…” Lando gasped, fingertips deeply entrenched in the skin on your hips, rolling them back and forward between his rough palms.

Eyes closed and bottom lip securely clenched between your front teeth suppressed the amount of pleasure you were feeling as he stretched you out, meeting your thrusts with a growl as you rode him. Lando struggled with relinquishing control, always wanting to be the one giving it to you on a silver platter, either missionary or hitting it from behind. And you loved that but you felt greedy for always being the lazy one, and after a long weekend, the least you could do was take some of the load off the gorgeous man whimpering below you. Begging you to come with him.

“I’ve been so pent up today, seeing you in that fucking dress and having you grinding up on me in the club. I nearly exploded in my fucking pants and right now, you feel so tight – so warm and I can’t hold on when you move like that… Jesus Christ,” Lando muttered and groaned, throwing his head back into your soft linen pillows, chuckling at how good you felt wrapped around his throbbing cock, clenching every time you bottomed out.

Lando lifted his head from the pillows he was buried in and licked the pad of his thumb before brushing it over your swollen clit and setting the bundle of nerves alight. He needed you to be where he was; desperately chasing your high and he could tell you weren’t quite there yet until he heard it – the tell tale sign that you were feeling as good as he was. It was a low moan, unlike any other sound he had ever heard before and it had him grinning like a Cheshire cat when it slipped past your beautifully parted lips. Angelically flushed face scrunched up in concentration as you chased your ecstasy and blocked out all of the thoughts rushing through your head. All you could think about now was your body bursting into flames.

Your name was falling from Lando’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut, mouth falling agape while he watched you start to unravel above him. His gaze was hindered by lust, vision blurry as grasped your hands that were pressed down on his perspiring chest, heart beating wildly under the taut skin. You could feel it thrumming against your palms, matching your pulse as you let the knot in the pit of your stomach detonate, pussy fluttering as your high hit with ferocity. Give it to me, you chanted over and over until you felt him filling you up, spilling out and giving you every drop you were desperately begging for.

"Fucking take it, baby. Take it all," Lando growled as you slowed your movements, sensitivity now making every stroke more and more unbearable – so much so that he had to still your hips while he composed himself, eyes closed and tongue licking his chapped lips.

You leaned down and kissed them, still warming his cock but knowing you needed to get up – the pain in your thighs urging you to stretch before you started cramping from straddling his lap for so long. There was something different in the way Lando looked at you as you got up from the bed. It was hard to decipher; several shades of emotions spread across his face, ones that he couldn’t quite express in the way he wanted. And one’s you maybe didn’t want to hear.

“What’s that look?”

Curiosity got the better of you.

But deep down there was a part of you that knew that look anywhere – the look of complete adoration. You’d seen it so many times before, most recently with your friend Rae and her husband; both of them being wholly and utterly in love with each other, til death do they part. There was no doubt in your mind that they were soul mates, destined to be together for the rest of their lives, living a full life in each other’s company. What they had was a happily ever after kind of love.

Lando propped his back up against your bedhead and smiled to himself as you slipped under the sheets beside him, “I was just thinking about how fucking perfect you are and that I’ve never felt like this before. Ever.”

But his face dropped when you looked away from him, avoiding his eye contact. “You know, you do that every time I say something like that.”

You sighed and reluctantly captured his gaze again, “Do what?”

“Look away from me, like you don’t want to admit to your feelings. Because I know you have them – I feel them every time you kiss me, every time you touch me and it’s different with you… You’re special to me. I think you might actually be–”

Without even thinking, your fingertips flew to Lando’s lips and stopped him mid sentence. You didn’t know what came over you – maybe panic, trying your best to mitigate the damages that you knew were inevitably going to come. It pained you to do it and it hurt even more when Lando’s dark blue eyes widened, as if a crushing weight had just come down and pummelled his spirit.

“Don’t say it.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Lando chuckled against your fingertips and through the pain, reaching up and tracing his thumb across your jawline with a strained smile, “Please let me finish.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” His voice was stronger, stare narrowed in faux confusion. He knew what was coming, he wasn’t entirely oblivious, but he had to play dumb; act like what you were about to say was the most ludicrous thing he’d ever heard and convince you that whatever had you worried, he could fix.

But you weren’t stupid. You knew that he had sensed your wavering, the diversions every time he proclaimed how much he cared about you, the little gestures of affection that left you awkwardly speechless. It wasn’t because you couldn’t express your feelings, hell, you were a grown ass woman and it wasn’t because you didn’t love him because deep down there was a part of you that did. And maybe in some alternate universe where you weren’t in your thirties and he wasn’t a young, hotshot driver, you could’ve waited for everything to fall into place. But that wasn’t your situation. It was complicated – too much so.

“You know why…”

He wasn’t expecting the tables to be turned back on him so quickly. But the realisation hit him like a tonne of bricks; of course you knew. Of course you could see right through him, like a ghost – you’d done that since the second he laid eyes on you, read him like an open book even when he thought he was being slick, as if you hadn’t experienced all of this before. He hated that you were two steps ahead with him always on the back foot and playing catch up. He should’ve known better than to call your bluff, putting on a brave face when all he wanted to do was rewind and follow your lead. Take it slow. Easy does it. Don’t scare her off.

But he loved you; Lando couldn’t hide that. You were different. You were special. You were everything he could’ve asked for and now he could feel you slipping away.

“Don’t do this to me.” He whispered; head titled and voice meek, unsteady. The façade had finally fallen, all cards laid out on the table for all to see. You couldn’t look at him after those words left his mouth, chills surging down your spine. The room was dark, lit only by the hallway light seeping through the open door but you could see him clear as day; shattering into tiny pieces and simultaneously trying to pick them up as they fell to the floor.

“You can’t do this – not now. We’re just starting to get into a rhythm. You said you wanted this and I thought it was going well, like, you are enjoying this, right? What’s changed?” He was desperate now, clutching at every straw in the pack, searching for answers while you sat silently, mustering up the energy to tell him the cold hard truth.

You sighed and grasped his hand, shaking as you interlaced your fingers. It was selfish to want him close while you broke his heart but you were hurting too; gut-wrenched and guilt ridden that you’d allowed it to go on for this long. Four months of pure bliss masked your reality, blinders shielding you from the truth.

“I guess tonight I realised how much you have left to experience and I can’t hold you back from all of that… You should’ve been dancing with those girls tonight, living it up while you still can, you know?”

“Frankly, I don’t.” Lando scoffed, shaking his head fervently, “Who do you think I am? Fuckin’... Joey Essex or something? I’m not a player. I’m not some guy who fucks around for the sake of it. If that’s who you think I am, then fuck me. You don’t know me at all, baby.” His voice was venomous with a hint of amusement and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

Because he was right.

“Okay so maybe you’re not Joey Essex,” You rolled your eyes, “But you’re young! And hot and rich and famous and… There’s so much more out there for you than settling for this. For me.”

“But I want you.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“I know that I’m in love with you.”

“You don’t know what love is.”

The longer the back and forth went on, the more nauseous you were becoming – whiplashed by words. You didn’t want to fight with him but he was adamant to fight for you, to convince you to forget about it for tonight. But your accusation that he didn’t know what love meant cut deep, slicing through his heart and belittling everything he’d done for you, how he felt about you. Undermining what you have together.

“Don’t treat me like a child. You don’t treat me like that when I’m making you scream my name or when you’re begging me to fuck you. So why are you doing it now?!” His voice was raised, teetering on the edge of a full-blown screaming match.

“Because I’ve been lying to myself! Telling myself that this was okay, that maybe we could make it work because you were so sweet, so charming. And I love what we’ve done together; you’ve made me feel alive again. But I’ve taken enough from you – you deserve more. And I deserve more – someone who isn’t away seven months out of the year; someone to start a family with and I can’t do that with you.”

A single tear silently rolled down your cheek and you hadn’t even realised that Lando was frozen in place, watching his world crumbling in around him. He wished he had the right words, prayed to a higher power to give him the words that would ease your mind and forget about the future until you realised you couldn’t live without him. But he wasn’t that lucky, not today, not ever – he just had to hold his ground and fight.

“I know that you’ve been in more relationships than me and I know that you’ve been fucked over more times than you deserve. One is too many since you are the single most beautiful person I have ever met.” Lando’s voice was low and faltering as he spoke, tears now prickling the corners of his eyes.

“But I want those things with you, maybe not right now but I see a future with you – I really fucking do. And I’ve tried to be that guy for you every single day since the moment we met but you haven’t let me. I want to be the guy you call in the middle of the night when you can't sleep – someone you can rely on. I’ll be the man you need me to be, I swear. Give me a chance to show you.”

Silence filled the dark room, distant sirens outside your window took some of the edge off but the tension was thick – suffocating as you threw the duvet off your legs, suddenly feeling like your chest was on fire, flushed red. You blinked a couple of times before burying your head in your hands, raking fingers through your tangled hair. There were no more tears, just unfiltered emotion running rampant in your mind, weighing up everything that had been said – figuring out where that left you. But like in the weeks leading up to this moment, you found yourself back at the same place every time. Broken.

And nothing could change the way you feel.

“Your future is my present, Lando. And I hate this – I don’t want this to be the end but I don’t have time and you have so much living left to do. I know that you can’t see that now but I promise you that I’m right. I promise you that you will forget about me and find someone worthy of your love, someone who can wait for you to be ready for all the things you want out of life – someone to share the journey with because I’ve missed all of that and if I could turn the clock back and start again with you, I would do it in a heartbeat because you are so much more than I could’ve ever asked for. But life is cruel and I can’t take those years away from you, I can't.”

There was an eerily long pause before Lando spoke, time really feeling like the burden it had always been.

“You’re right – I don’t understand.”

You wanted to shake him, make him believe your words more than anything but you remembered what you would’ve thought at twenty-three. Wide eyed and naïve, hearing the person you loved telling you that your feelings weren’t real and you hated to think that he would resent you for all of this; but of course he would. Why wouldn’t he?

“But it doesn’t change the way I feel about you.” Not yet, you thought.

“I know it doesn’t,” You barely whispered as Lando stood up to pull on his boxer briefs from the floor, feeling vulnerable and exposed, physically and emotionally.

“Do you want me to go?” He asked, solemn and quiet. Eyes hooded with fatigue as he gazed down at you in bed, arms limp at his sides while he waited for your answer; bated breath rushing through his lungs, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

You shook your head and gently patted the spot he’d left beside you. It was barely warm as your fingertips brushed over the white sheet, a subtle reminder of what it would feel like without him there, out of your life. Maybe it was immoral to tempt him back into your bed and it was definitely wrong to let him kiss you, to touch you, to make love to you until the sun came up. But the way he stared into your soul as he rested his weary head on your pillow, eyes pleading with you for one last memory together, you couldn’t refuse him that. You couldn’t deny him the closure he needed, if that was even something you could give.

One of the several alarms on your phone jolted you awake, the jingle making your stomach flip as you reached over and silenced it with a huff. Your head was thumping, eyes sealed shut with sleep, mind numbed and an ache between your thighs that reminded you of the events that transpired last night. You could be easily forgiven for the pang of regret coursing through your body as you remembered the words that were said in the heat of the moment. For pushing away the only good thing in your life at present.

A cold shiver travelling down your spine sent you on a mission to find that good thing, your hand reaching for the warm body you’d become so accustomed to feeling beside you.

But when you turned over, he wasn’t there – his side was cold, wrinkled. Empty.

You sat up in disbelief, eyes searching the room for any signs of life besides you. Lando? You called out and wrapped yourself up in a robe, thinking that maybe he was downstairs making a cup of tea or watching TV. For some reason, you hadn’t even considered the obvious as you walked around your apartment, looking in the kitchen and the courtyard, phone in your hand.

Maybe the harsh reality was too hard to stomach, too hard to comprehend. In hindsight it didn't seem that unbelievable, that for Lando, waking up next to you knowing it would probably be the last time he ever saw you was a painful memory he would rather not have locked away in his subconscious for the rest of his life.

And once reality hit, you stopped in your tracks. Stood still in your cold, lonely apartment once again. Tears streamed down your face when you came to grips with your own self-inflicted pain. Lando was gone. You knew it was for the best, better for both of you and in time that would become clearer; easier to bear. But what killed you the most was that there was no way of knowing if he was happier now than he was with you because you never heard from him again. Not a knock on your door, not even a drunken text. And you deserved that. You had no right to his life from that day on.

But all of the late nights, the stories, the deep, dark secrets and the whispered sweet nothings you had shared together haunted you for years, even after you married the love of your life.

Forever left wondering, what could’ve been?

a/n - i promise that i'll do happier lando fics in the near future but i hope you enjoyed this series and thank you again for all the support on it x lots of love! thoughts? feelings? i wanna know all of them! or click here for more of my writing if you liked this x

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