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#LIKE HES JUST STANDING IN THE BACKGROUND CRYING???
live-laugh-lenney · 12 hours
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Hey I was wondering if you could write a little something about being on tour with George and Max like how max has Andrew with him no worries if not love your writing x
oh, imagine all the mischief they'd get up to... :'))
george loves it.
he loves waking up and seeing yn in the crew bunk opposite him on the tour bus, wearing an oversized t-shirt from their merch collection, curled up underneath the blanket she'd brought to add to her home comforts on the bus. he loves cosying up with her on the sofa in the made-up living space area, munching on snacks that they would buy from the service stations they stop at on the way to each location, as they watch the world go by on their travels to the next tour location. he loves getting to stay up late with her after each show is finished, talking nonsense and having the bus to themselves as max has his snooze in the bedroom at the end. there's just something relaxing, for him, that helps him wind down after each show with her being right beside him.
she's there during the meet and greets, too.
usually sat in the background or loitering by the set on the stage as she watches the two of them hug or take gifts from those who had brought them something special, and she listens as they say hello to everyone who had paid for tickets to see them before each of the shows. and, every so often, someone would recognise yn and they'd come over and say hello to her and include her in their conversations which she absolutely adores. (and sometimes, they bring gifts just for her and she doesn't know whether to cry on the spot or hug them or do both - which george loves to see happen and he's always standing behind with a massive grin on his face as he watches her interact with his fans).
her and max would be chaos.
they'd constantly 'bicker' over george and during the london show, she would make an appearance on stage with a 'query that she needs help with' and it would simply be about how there's some guy who won't leave her boyfriend alone - much like andrew did at the recent london show at the weekend.
"tonight, we thought we'd welcome a few special guests who have a few issues of their own that we most definitely are qualified to help with," george introduces the next, and final, segment of the london show and it's the time when the audience understands why the two arthur's and herself had been announced as guests for the show, "so, without further ado, can we please welcome onto the stage... our very first guest and my very lovely girlfriend, yn!"
she's met with cheers and blinding lights shining upon her as she steps from behind the wings of the stage and makes herself known to those in the audience. her cheeks heating up, already sweating from the stage lights that were intensely lighting her up, and her legs were like jelly as she with the phone in her hand.
"i'm actually really thankful you guys chose my query," she says into the microphone once the cheers had subsided, "i think it's getting worse and i was in desperate need of some answers."
"and how may we help you, dear yn?"
"you see, my boyfriend is currently on tour with his podcast co-host and i'm pretty certain said co-host has a thing for said boyfriend," she says playfully and max feigns shock, holding his hand to his chest with his mouth gaped open, "he's very forward with advances."
"how forward?" max asks.
"well, i'm currently visiting my boyfriend and there's been times when i come back from the toilet and said co-host is in my place beside him. he likes to cuddle with him a lot, too, which makes me feel very jealous," yn frowns playfully and her brows furrow dramatically and it makes the audience laugh loudly, "i was hoping for some alone time since it's been a while since i've seen him but, i'm scared i'm being replaced unwillingly."
"have you tried anything to stop this?" george asks, trying his best to hold back the laughter that was building up within him, "maybe, we should get our own bus?"
"or, you know, you should just consider the option of a throuple?"
shepherd's bush fills with cheers and claps and george just shakes his head at how max encourages the crowd to go louder with over-the-top hand movements to increase the volume. and yn can't help but giggle as george rolls his eyes.
"a throuple?"
"i'm sure said co-host is happy to share," max looks over at george as george's eyes are trained on yn, smirks on both of their lips, "i mean, if you're happy to share, that is."
"i don't know," yn pretends to think about it, tapping her chin with her finger before she placed both of her hands on her hips, "my boyfriend is very handsome, you see, so i really understand why he's in such demand by this co-host."
"maybe said boyfriend has eyes for his girlfriend and only her?" she hears george say into his microphone as the audience cheers at her previous statement, "have you asked him that? you're very beautiful so maybe he doesn't see what's happening because he's distracted by how you are? maybe he just loves you so much that he can't see what's happening?"
max pretends to gag and yn snickers softly at his actions.
"i don't think my boyfriend would like to hear you say that, george clarke," yn teases and george stands from his seat, walking around the desk he was sat at to stand beside her, "you know what, i think i'm just being silly because the co-host is so gay. unless-"
"nope," george shakes his head and stands beside her, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips as the crowd coos and cheers at what they were witnessing. and away from the microphone, he whispers, "i love you. nothing to worry about," into her ear and it's enough for her to melt under him.
"give it up for yn, ladies and gents," max grins widely and gives her a theatrical applaud himself, standing up to give her a hug, "i feel so accomplished tonight, we've helped so many people."
and when the show finishes, like she does every night, she joins them as they do a mini meet-and-greet with those who were waiting by the stage door in hopes of seeing them after the show. and she happily takes photos with those who asked her and has conversations with those who ask her questions and want to talk to her opposed to max and george.
it's always fun and the two weeks she spends on tour is something she speaks about for ages.
mini tiktok vlogs on her days spent with them, instagram q&a's about what she got up to and what her favourite night was, posting tweets during the shows as little updates for those that never got tickets. it's like a two week holiday for her and she has the best time. xx
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Dream: I’m sad
Death: wanna watch me come work?
Dream: ok
Death: *kills baby*
Dream: oh ok
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curiouschild · 1 year
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Sometimes I think of Marjorie and just.. have to sit in it
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lina-lovebug · 3 months
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I'd Fight The Devil
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Pairing: Alastor x fem! reader
Background: reader is Lilith and Lucifers oldest, and resembles Lilith more. Lucifer has a hard time bonding with her because of this, and Alastor decides to step in.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"DAD'S COMING?!"
(Y/N) Morningstar, firstborn daughter of Lilith and Lucifer, was currently having a breakdown over the fact that her father was on his way to the hotel.
She'd have no issue leaving, of course, but Charlie tricked her dear old sister into staying by saying she needed help with the hotel. . .and told her their dad was coming when he was two minutes away.
It's not like she didn't miss him, but things became different once their mother disappeared. Lucifer threw himself into his ideas, and (Y/N) tried maintaining their relationship but he couldn't even stand the look of her.
"I'm sorry! But I thought maybe you guys could talk while he's here?" Charlie suggested with a gulp, twiddling her fingers.
"I'm done trying with dad. If he wants to talk, he can come to me," (Y/N) crossed her arms, firm on her stance.
"I never thought I'd meet someone with worse daddy issues, but here you are, cher," Alastor, with his famous grin, looked down at the Princess of Hell. She huffed, not in the mood for his side comments.
"Alastor, please-"
"He's here!"
"-please fucking hide me!" She ran behind him, despite the mass amount of blonde hair making it obvious.
He chuckled.
Honestly, since meeting the eldest Morningstar, Alastor deemed himself her Protector. Not that the girl wasn't capable or needed him persay, but he cared for her. Being on the aroace spectrum, he wasn't plagued by a selfish desire to fuck her, but it was a sweet concern that slowly turned into a need to be near her.
A need to make her his.
"Hopefully he doesn't-"
"Pumpkin?"
"Fuck," (Y/N) silently cursed under her breath before Alastor stepped aside.
"Hey dad," Lucifer felt a pang in his sinister heart at her tone. She sounded uncomfortable and wouldn't even look at him, but he also remembered that he couldn't look at her at times.
It reminded him of happier times.
Times he didn't want to be reminded of anymore.
"So how've you been? Heard you've got a fancy job now. Probably making loads of money, huh?" He chuckled nervously.
"Dad, it's my company. I made it."
And he couldn't even remember that she did that?
Any dad would remember that his child created her own business.
"Ouch."
"And it's got a fucking duck on the logo. God, dad," She rose her voice, "you can't even remember that?"
"I've been busy, pumpkin-"
"Too busy to call? Too busy to even fucking call?!"
Charlie flinched at the harshness in her voice. She's always been a firecracker but she's never seen her so angry.
"I'm not fighting with you, (Y/N)," Lucifer stepped towards her, "why do you insist on fighting? Especially when I'm here for Charlie."
"Oh, you're here for Charlie?" Her horns started to come up through her skin, rolling back like a rams.
Just like her mom.
"I'm not making this about me. I just wish you'd make the effort instead of it having to be me," She missed who he was.
And during this, Alastor could see the pain on her face. She was furious, and rightfully so.
But he let her fight her own battles.
"I'm sorry that I look like mom. Is that what you want me to say?!"
"Yes!"
He didn't mean it. Of fucking course he didn't mean it, but it slipped out.
"Dad! That's enough!" Charlie ran to her, seeing tears well up in her sisters eyes. "How could you say that?"
"Pumpkin, I-"
"Don't," She sniffled, holding Charlie close, "don't come near me."
But he didn't listen.
He hated being the fact that his little girl was crying because of him.
"I think you've come far enough," Alastor spoke, getting infront of Charlie and (Y/N). He is excellent at saving face, so his pure unadulterated rage was hidden beneath his smile.
She hiccuped behind him, sobbing into Charlie's shoulder.
"Don't make me move you," Lucifer glared.
"And don't make me fucking kill you for hurting what's mine."
His voice turned more static-like than before, his eyes a burning red and his horns outstretched. He was a fucking shield for his Princess, and not even the King of Hell could get through. Lucifer recognized this and humbly backed away, retreating with his tail between his legs.
_ _ ☆ _ _
(Y/N) spent the next hour crying in her room. Over the years, she had started to hate herself for looking like her mom, and Lucifers' confirmation only reaffirmed it.
"Need anything else?" Charlie asked her. Although her sister wasn't searching for redemption, she had her own personal room in the hotel.
"Can you get Alasto-?"
A knock sounded at the door.
"Was he there the whole time?" She sniffled, and a muffled "maybe" came through the door.
Her bed was surrounded by napkins that she quickly placed on her bedside as Charlie allowed Alastor inside.
Alone.
The two of them.
Might as well just throw them condoms and say get to it, is what (Y/N) was thinking. She's known about her crush on The Radio Demon for a few months now, having a fantasy dream here and there, but wasn't much of an active person herself.
"Thank you. I know he tried to fix it, but I couldn't stand to look at him," Her puffy eyes made Alastors eye twitch, still a small spout of anger for her father.
"Of course, my dear," He sat himself next to her on the bed.
"Because your father, although the King of Hell, is a fucking coward", is what he wanted to say but kept those words for himself.
"Did you mean it? That I'm yours?" She asked, her hand inching closer to his.
"I never say anything I don't mean, cher," He grabbed her hand, kissed it, and made the she-demon gasp.
"I thought you hated touch."
He chuckled, "Oh, I do, but not if it's you. Your skin is warm, and it brings me comfort. You bring me comfort."
"You'd have me, even if I want to be glued to your side? Even having petty fights with my dad?"
"Darling, I'd wear your skin if you asked."
"Oh, how romantic," She blushed before both his hands came up to her face, bringing her into a needy kiss. With her, he needed to feel her.
Someday, even all of her.
"And I'd eat demons with you," She whispered against his lips.
"Oh my heart may burst, my dear."
Taglist: @lorkai @droopingdatura @tr1coo @randomuser-89 @abbiedail @evelin1o1 @sseleniaa
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vroomvro0mferrari · 30 days
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LN4 | Panic at the Disco
Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.
Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
WC: 1.3K
Warnings: Maybe slight panic attack, insinuated sexual harassment/assault
Part 2
Masterlist
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You rush through the club in a hurry, bumping into God knows how many people as you search for the exit. The hot, stuffy air makes it even more difficult to breathe as you keep pushing through the crowd. You can feel the wetness of your tears run down your cheeks as you reach the exit, nearly running into the bouncer checking IDs outside. You stand close to him as you wipe your cheeks and sniffle, trying to calm yourself down while you rummage through your purse in search of your phone. Taking a deep breath, you call your brother.
You wait impatiently as the phone rings. He doesn’t answer, so you call again. And again. Eventually, after three tries, the phone is picked up. 
“Hello? Max?” You say rushedly.
You hear some noise on the other side. In your frenzy, you don’t realise it’s not your brother, not from the mere grumpy hello the phone is answered with.
“Can you come pick me up? Please?” The sheer panic you’re experiencing is clear in your voice. Lando can even hear your sniffling through the phone as you wipe your hand under your nose. 
“Y/N? Is that you? Are you crying?” He asks, much more awake now as he sits up from his position on the couch.
“Who’s this? Lando?” You realise now that you hear him speak; it's your brother’s best friend – to your frustration.
“Yes”
“Why are you answering my brother’s phone?” You ask annoyed.
“We were just hanging out, he fell asleep and-”
“You know what – it doesn’t matter. Can you tell him to come pick me up please?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not sure, uhm, it’s called Palace, I think.” You sniffle, “You’ll send him to get me?” You ask hopefully.
“I’ll come get you myself. I’m just putting my shoes on, I’ll be there in a bit.” He says, putting your brother’s phone on speaker mode and stepping into his shoes.
“Lando you don’t have to come, just tell Max to come pick me up, please. I need him right now.” You say, frustrated that Lando wants to come. He’s not who you want and need at this moment; you need someone who you can trust, who’ll protect you and make you feel safe after what just happened. You need your brother, a close friend, or maybe even your father, but not Lando. Why can’t he understand that? You can feel your tears welling up again in frustration.
Lando ignores you, however. “Are you safe right now? You should try to find a group of people or something, stick to them until I get there, okay?”
“Lan-” He cuts you off, in a rush to get to you. 
“Do you want to stay on the phone? I’m getting in the car right now, I’ll be there in, like, eight minutes.”
“Lando, just send Max, please.”
“I’m already in the car. Do you want me to stay on the line, or not?” You hear the car revving in the background.
You sigh. Nevertheless, you’re relieved he’s on his way and you don’t have to stay here much longer. “That’s not necessary, Lando. I’m with the bouncer right now. Just come quick, please?” You’ve given up on the idea that your brother might come, Lando’s very much set in his ways.
“Of course, I’ll be right there.” Lando says firmly before hanging up.
Although you and Lando aren’t the best of friends, you get along well enough. Regardless, you get caught up in discussions quite regularly; both of you are passionate and stubborn in your opinions – it rarely happens that you and Lando do not end up being separated by your brother or a mutual friend. However, that you know exactly how to push each other's buttons doesn’t mean Lando doesn’t care about you. In fact, the opposite is true. Although he would never admit it, Lando has liked you for quite a while and cares for you deeply, even though he doesn’t generally show his feelings. And so, when you call him (well, not him specifically, but that doesn’t matter) crying and upset, he worries about you. He could’ve woken up your brother, who you obviously would have preferred over him, but he wants to be the one who’s there for you. He wants to be the one who protects you and keeps you safe – better yet, the one who makes you feel safe, if he could ever accomplish such a thing.
Lando exceeds his own expectations when he arrives at the nightclub in under five minutes. Already spotting you standing with the big, bulky bouncer, arms wrapped around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm in the cold, late night (or early morning) breeze. He carelessly parked his car on the side of the road, barely turning on the hazard lights before exiting the car. 
“Y/N! Are you okay?” He jogs towards the club entrance, concern showing on his face.
You lifted your head at the familiar voice yelling your name. Quickly thanking the bouncer who kept you company, you rushed over to the familiar boy. You had never been so happy to see Lando.
He pulled you into his arms as soon as you were within his reach. Cradling your head and brushing your hair with one hand, while the other pulled you closer by your waist. Although you initially wanted your brother to come, this was good too – you’d even go as far as to say you were enjoying it. Despite your differences, Lando’s presence (more specifically, his strong arms holding you tight) made you feel at ease and calmed you down. He relieved the tenseness of your body and you relaxed in his hold. Hiding your face in his neck and fisting the fabric of his shirt, you nestled yourself comfortably in Lando’s body and exhaled the breath you had been holding.
He buried his nose in your hair on the top of your head, breathing in your scent and smiling at the feeling of you snuggling into him. It felt right, so right, to be holding you like this. He whispers, “Are you okay?” You merely nod your head, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He questions further.
You stay silent, enjoying Lando’s strong hold on you. It makes you feel safe. Safe enough to share what happened in the club. “There was some random guy who thought he was entitled to my attention.” You mumble into his neck.
“He didn’t touch you, did he?” He continues, already fearing the answer.
You let a silence fall before answering, “He did,”
Lando squeezes you tighter at the revelation. He’s not surprised a man ruined your fun night out.
You continue quickly, “But there were some girls who helped me, and I think they kicked him out. I’m not sure though, I left as soon as I could. Then I called Max, but he didn’t answer, and now…”
“I’m sorry,” Lando says, a pained expression on his face. “Men are shit.”
You let out a small laugh and Lando can barely avoid shivering at the feeling of your warm breath hitting the sensitive skin of his neck. Nevertheless, he smiles in accomplishment when he hears the sound, glad he could cheer you up.
“You want to go home? To my place, I mean, Max is there…”
“Yes,” You say into Lando’s neck, sighing before distancing yourself from him.
He kisses the top of your head before letting you leave his hold, “Let’s go then.” He says, pulling you along to his car, still tucked into his side.
– – – – –
Part 2
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arieslost · 10 days
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MIAMI | ln4
summary: lando won for the first time and i have so many emotions i have to write something I’M SO FREAKING HAPPY
word count: 834
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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you feel like you’re in a dream. walking on sunshine. on cloud nine. all the good, amazing things in the world.
lando has won his first ever grand prix. his first career win. right in front of your eyes.
in all honesty, it feels like you’re floating. you can’t imagine how he must be feeling as the team comes rushing out of the garage to meet him as he parks the car in front of the first place banner.
“come with me!” zak says the moment he catches up to you from the pit wall, immediately reaching for your hand so he can help you navigate your way through the crowd. “he needs to see you front and center!”
you don’t think that’s necessarily true, that he would certainly rather see the team and catch up with you afterwards, but you’ve learned not to argue with zak. you just hold on tight and allow him to guide you to the front of the barrier separating everyone from the top three finishers and their cars.
your throat quickly grows hoarse from cheering as he proudly stands atop the car, and you can’t even hear yourself over the cheers of everyone else around you and in the grandstands.
you would happily go deaf in this moment, because the sound of hundreds of thousands of people cheering for your boyfriend would be the last thing ringing in your ears. if you dreamt this moment up, it wouldn’t even sound this good.
you’re quick to take out your phone and record as lando gives himself a running start to leap across the barrier entirely and into the waiting arms of the mclaren team, who immediately swarm around him, hugging him and patting him excitedly. at some point he gets flipped around, everyone’s hands supporting him from below so the world can see the beaming smile on his face.
you don’t know when they started, but you can feel the tears on your cheeks as he’s placed back on his feet on the other side of the barrier. he’s pulled into enthusiastic hugs by a few more team members, and then he starts calling your name, eyes frantically searching for you amongst the sea of papaya.
“lan!” you yell as loudly as you can, pressing yourself right up against the barrier and leaning forward.
he spots you from over zak’s shoulder as they embrace, his smile somehow growing impossibly wider the moment your eyes meet. your happy tears begin to fall even faster after he hugs andrea and immediately makes a beeline for you.
all the words you want to say to him get stuck in your throat as you throw your arms around his neck. he’s sweaty, but so are you, courtesy of the miami heat, and neither of you care. you yelp in surprise when you feel his arms go around your waist and lift.
“what are you doing?!” you laugh, clinging onto him with all your might regardless.
“i’m not gonna have a fucking barrier between us when i do this,” is all he offers as an explanation before he’s kissing you, cupping your face with one hand and holding the other above his head, his pointer finger extended up to the sky.
you don’t see it in the moment, of course, but you’ll see plenty of pictures of it later.
you kiss him back with equal fervor. it’s definitely not the most perfect kiss; you’re crying and he can’t stop smiling so your teeth knock together a couple times, but that doesn’t dim the passion between you both as you hold each other. the crowd chanting his name fades into background noise when you break apart for air and he rests his forehead against yours.
“i love you,” he says, over and over. “i love you, i love you. i’m so glad you’re here with me.”
“lan, i’m so proud of you,” you’re in hysterics, laughing as tears continue to fall down your face even while he gently wipes them away. “you deserve this. every single second.”
“i love you so, so much. thank you for not giving up on me,” he says, his words so sincere that you could fall to the ground right here and now.
“stop making me cry more!” you exclaim, hands covering his as you reach up to wipe your eyes. “don’t you have the top step of a podium to get to?”
“can i bring you with me?”
“absolutely not,” you giggle, pulling him into another tight hug.
“alright, but i told will to get you on his shoulders so i can see you perfectly while i’m up there.”
it doesn’t click in your head why he would bother telling you that until you’re on will’s shoulders and lando is spraying his champagne down at you from the top step with surprising accuracy. and when he finds you after it’s all over and kisses you again, you decide that champagne is your new favorite taste in the whole world.
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note: i don’t even care that i’m posting this late or if this sucks it doesn’t matter it needs to be posted today i am so happy for him i’m still crying oh my gosh I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I’M SO HAPPY LANDO NORRIS IS A GRAND PRIX WINNER
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peachesofteal · 6 months
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: 2 of 2 for sickfics. Requested by multiple.
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At first, Simon thinks the sound of his cellphone is an explosion. 
It doesn’t register completely in his dream. It starts as a slow beeping sound, like a ticking, and then morphs into everything else, the usual. Explosions and blood, screaming and crying amidst the rubble, dust swirling in the air. In the dream, he doesn’t know where he is. Doesn’t know how he got there, only knows that he was looking for you, searching the faces and the limbs of the deceased for any sign of you and Emma, picking through slabs of concrete until the crying got closer, until it sounded like it was right on top of him, or underneath him, somewhere he can’t see but- 
“’lo?”  “Simon?” He squints, adjusting for a split second, before shooting straight up in bed. 
“I’m here.” He told you to call, nearly begged you to ring him if you needed anything after he left your flat earlier. You were still in awful shape, but managed to get in the shower, and Emmaline had been fed and put back down to bed. He was able to help you with your dishes, washing and stacking them where he hoped they went, tucking the bottles upside down on their drying rack. There wasn’t more of a reason to linger in your flat. He didn’t want to be a nuisance.
“I’m s-sorry, did I wake you?” You sound upset. Still heavily sick, throat clogged with a cough, but your voice is distress ladened, sour with fear. You sound like you did that day the guy followed you in the park. 
“No. What is it?” He fumbles for his jeans, sliding them on, phone tucked between his ear and chin. The mask is in there, he double checks, and he’s still trying to coax it out of you when he pulls his sweatshirt on. 
“It’s Emma… she’s- she’s not getting any better and I don’t know what to do, I need to take her to hospital.” You’re crying, panicked, Emmaline screaming through the walls, and his skin breaks out in a cold sweat. What’s wrong with her? Why isn’t she getting better? You’re still talking in the background, anxiously explaining her temperature and the reasoning for something medical he doesn’t understand, enough time for him to make the very short trip to your front door. His fingers twist around the handle, grateful it’s locked, frustrated it stands between him and the two of you. “- and what if I waited too long and something really bad has happened and I just know she must be so uncomfortable and I’m a terrible mum I just didn’t think that taking her to hospital was the right thing, there are so many germs already there and what if-“ 
“Hey, listen. Listen to me, love.” He tries to jog your attention, snapping you free from your spiral. “Everything’s going to be okay, okay?” 
“Okay.” You whisper. 
“Can you open the door, sweetheart?” He coaxes you, gritting his teeth at the sound of your harsh breathing, combination of your tears and what he’s sure must be a chest infection making you gasp a little bit, like you’re running out of air. He hears the click of the deadbolt, and the scrape of the chain- door all locked up, just like he taught you. Good girl. “That’s it.” He encourages, waiting for the turn of the handle. 
You’re hyperventilating on the other side, still gripping the phone tight, crying baby in your arms, all bundled up like you’re preparing to take her outside… except you’re wearing a thin pair of pajama pants and a t shirt, frantic look in your eyes, missing a shoe. 
Without thinking, he steps forward and pulls you into his chest, snuggling Emma between you and him, careful not to squish her, but keeps you close with a hand on the back of your head. It’s all instinct, something that’s been wired in the back of his mind, sleeping dormant for so long. He’s not quite sure how his hands know to give you comfort, but they do. Just for you, for Emmaline, and he lets himself fall into it, murmuring something soft into your hair, pulling her from your arms as he encourages you to get a jacket on, helping you with the one sleeve, making sure you both get your hats, helping you get her settled in the carrier. He keeps a hand on you the whole way to the car, your nerves about installing the base easily soothed when he shows you he knows how to do it, (and fails to mention the youtube videos on quick install that he’s been watching recently, just in case) settling her and then you in, even reaching over to buckle your belt as you lean over car seat, anxiously distracted, watching your baby.  “Alright, ready?” He asks you gently, and you look to him, eyes wet with tears, limbs heavy. The need to reassure you, soothe you, screams in his head, and he takes your hand, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles. “It’s going to be alright.” I swear. I’ll burn the world if it’s not. “I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise.” 
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greycaelum · 8 months
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How do you welcome a husband from an unfinished war?
How would you patch his wounds knowing the battle is not yet done?
How would you hug him when his side is still aching from the finishing blow?
Your hands flew on your lips as your tears fell, seeing him standing amidst the battle field.
"He won..."
"Gojo Satoru defeated Sukuna!"
Someone murmured in the background and you couldn't care enough. Beneath your tears is a screaming heart begging for him to come out of the battle field so you could hide him away.
This is enough right? Satoru already did his part, didn't he?
"Hey, pretty..." Satoru grinned he tucks a strand of your hair at the back of your ear. He winces but waves it away in a blur. "Why's my Baby crying? I won."
Your lips tremble as you look at him all battered and bloody, never minding the gashes he sustained, your arms held his hand in all care you could muster and press it on your cheeks.
"Can we go home now, Satoru? Can I now take you back home?"
You couldn't look him in the eyes but you felt the exhausted arms wrap around you, and for what seems like forever, he let his weight fall into you, urging you to hold him up, finally letting himself have your help in shouldering what is on his shoulders.
Satoru inhaled your scent, it filtered into his nostrils, reminding him of home as he murmured to your ears.
"Just a second Baby, give me a few seconds with you, like this."
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—Grey,
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eternally-racing · 3 months
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baby steps | lando norris
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pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 
genre: fluff
warnings: none 
word count: 2.5k
summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?
note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !
---
When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 
The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 
“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 
You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.
“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 
“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”
While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 
“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 
“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 
Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 
You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 
“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 
Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.
 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.
The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 
Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 
But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 
“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 
“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 
Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 
When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 
“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 
You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 
“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 
Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 
“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 
“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 
The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.
At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.
“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.
It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 
Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 
“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 
You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 
It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 
It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.
You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 
“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.
“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 
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author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍
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y13evie · 10 months
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a jealous man
miguel o’hara x fem! reader
tags: talks of pregnancy, reader gets catcalled, lots of cum LMFAO, some spanish terms, very dirty
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miguel o’hara is very possessive about what’s his. so when you’re out on a date and some rando decides to comment on how your ass looks in that little dress, miguel doesn’t take it lightly. after dealing with the no longer-apart-of-this-earth random, miguel the both of you into the car and not a work is spoken that whole car ride home. you knew miguel was a jealous man but god. the grip he had on your wrist as you entered your shared apartment was lethal. you could tell that as soon as he shut the door to your bedroom that it wasn’t gonna be pretty.
no words are exchanged as he begins to unbutton his dress pants and rip his shirt off. you try to smooth him a bit, placing a hand against his cheek.
“miguel, i’m okay. i’m all yours. forever.”
your words are nothing but background noise as he quite harshly sits you onto his thigh. he unzips your dress and pulls it over your head, making quick work to undo your bra aswell. the way he takes one of your breasts in his mouth so hastily makes you gasp. you quickly wrap your arms around his neck, keeping yourself steady on his muscular thigh. without even trying, you’re subconsciously grinding your pussy against him. slowly getting faster and faster. miguel takes notice to this and puts it to end quickly despite your whines.
“cariño, i wanna make you feel good tonight. make you understand who you belong to.” he whispers against your neck. a strong hold on your waist as he stands up and flips your back onto the bed. for a moment, he just stands there. his beautiful girl, all spread open right infront of him. your plush skin hot due to the intensity of the moment. when he snaps back to reality he quickly gets rid of the thong that had been keeping him from your entrance. miguel’s cock is leaking in his own boxers, which he takes off and slowly strokes himself.
“are you ready, my love?”.
you nod in response. he lines himself up with your pussy and enters you inch by inch. a slur of swears leaves his mouth as you suck him in greedily. once miguel bottoms out he does it all again. increasing the pace what seems like each second. skin on skin, he leans down and whispers into your ear.
“all mine. you belong with me. nobody else can make you feel this good.”
his words cause you to clench around his cock, earning a loud groan from him. your moans increase in volume each time he hits the most sensitive part of your walls. you can’t help but make deep scratches down his back, crying out how good he makes you feel. he nuzzles his face into your neck to get as close as possible to you. he hears your heartbeat, feels the blood warming up your body. he’s obsessed with you. the closeness seems to send you over the edge. you cum all over miguel’s length, whining when his excruciating pace doesn’t falter.
it takes no time for the overstimulation to take complete control of all your senses. tears begin to well up in the corner of your eyes. “miguel ‘ts too much please”, you beg for him to have some mercy and slow down. he doesn’t. he needs you to know exactly who you belong to. you squirm around as your body tries to comprehend whether the sensation is pain or pleasure. your cries begin to increase in volume as miguel gets rougher, nearing his own finish.
“tell me you want me to fill you up with my cum, tell me amor”. he commands you to beg for him. you’re too cockdrunk to even understand what he’s saying, so he repeats himself. grabbing your face this time.
“tell me what you want hermosa”. his eye contact is deep, you know he wants you to plead. you give him exactly what he wants.
“please miguel. fill m’ up with your cum please. i need you. i need to be filled with you” your face reddens with a hint of embarrassment, but you mean every word you said. you’d be lying if you didn’t think about how you looked with your tummy filled with one of his kids. what a cute family you two would create together.
he listens to your pleads and cums deep instead you. panting as if he’s just run a marathon. miguel’s hair is sticking to his face and sweat makes his features shine. he looks stunning. it’s safe to say he thinks the same about you. he admires your face contorting in pleasure and wish you two could stay like this forever. but you can’t. he carefully pulls out and the bed dips as he lay down next to you. a comfortable silences fills the room as you both come down from the moment. miguel however, has one thing to get off his chest.
“how would you like to be a mama?”
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strawberrysturniolo · 3 months
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i love the whole ‘best friends who ‘accidentally’ had sex’ type of concept and it really fits chris 😭 like imagine attending the end of the summer cookout marylou and jimmy have every year, you and chris decide to have wine coolers because why not?
next thing you know….
never grow up // chris sturniolo
summary: you and your childhood best friend reunite after months apart. after a couple of drinks, secrets start spilling, leading to lust that has been put on the back burner for years part 2
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Chris and I have been inseparable since the day we met. With us living on the same street growing up, we were always together. If there was a picture taken of one of us as a kid, chances are the other one was in the background trying to photobomb. 
Watching Chris and his brothers make the move to LA was hard. I sat back and supported my best friend, but it sucked knowing that our fault routine of being together after school and having sleepovers was coming to an end.
It all happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone. 
The love I have for Chris is unlike anything else in the world. I love Nick, and I adore Matt, but it’s different with Chris. We connect in different ways. We trust each other differently. I’ve never had a friendship like it, and I don’t think I ever will. We always joked about being in each other's weddings. He wanted me to stand with all the groomsmen, and I told him he could stand with the girls. 
We had our lives planned together, and I never thought I’d have to see us fade away from each other. 
We try to talk as much as possible, but with his ridiculous sleep schedule mixed with his work life and time zones, it’s mostly scattered snapchats that keep us from forgetting what the other person looks like. 
A tradition growing up was going to his house for the end of the year cookout. When we were little we would play in the pool, seeing who could collect the most shark toys and torpedoes that we launched into the bottom, and as we got older it turned into chicken fights, then us floating around the pool, asking each other questions about life. 
“Do you ever think about what would happen if your husband didn’t like me?” he had asked me on a sunny day in Massachusetts when we were 16. 
“Yeah,” I said, dragging my hand through the water to cool myself down. “I’d tell him to fuck himself, and if he doesn’t love my best friend like a brother, then I want no part of him. You’ll always come first.”
He gave me that classic, cheesy grin of his and then splashed a wave of water against me, knocking me from my float. 
He’s not coming this year. He’s busy at work in LA. I can feel him drifting away. 
As I help his parents set up some of the food trays, I hear their side door open by the kitchen. I don’t bother looking up, knowing guests have been coming and going all day. It isn’t until two arms wrap around me from behind that my eyes shoot open. 
“Miss me?”
Chris. 
I spin around, staring at him with my jaw dropped. I can see his mom out of the corner of my eye, smiling at us. She must have known about this. I’m sure he told his mom. 
“Oh my god,” is all I can bring myself to say. My eyes start to well with tears. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. I missed his birthday. He missed me. Our times were always off. 
He squeezed me as our bodies clung to each other. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry, Sunny.”
Sunny. The nickname he gave me when we were little, which came from Sunshine. We were 8, swinging on a playground. He had a bad day. We played together after school and he told me whenever he feels sad, his day always gets sunnier with me around. He always was able to make me feel loved and appreciated as his friend, and as we got older, that only grew. 
I know he loves me. He just needed to chase his dream. That doesn’t mean he loves me any less than he ever did. 
“I missed you so much,” he says, holding me even tighter than before. 
“I missed your voice.”
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I need to make an effort to call you more. I’m just so-“
“Busy,” I finish for him. “I know.”
His face falls. “Yeah.”
I don’t want him to feel bad for what he’s doing. He deserves something so amazing. He’s worked so hard for it. 
“You’re here now though,” I smile. “Can we just pretend like you’ve been here and you never left?”
He smiles softly, nodding. “Yeah.”
I sit by his side for hours, smiling at him as he fills everyone in on what’s he’s been up to. He’s the talk of the town. Everyone is amazed to see him and his brothers do such big things. 
Everyone erupts into laughter when Chris tells his stories, and when Matt and Nick add on more anecdotes, the house is filled with pure joy and love for these boys we watched grow up. 
“I’m gonna get a drink,” Chris says, excusing himself. “You want anything?” he points to me. 
“Whatever you get for yourself is fine,” I nod, adding on a thank you before he leaves. 
He comes back with two Pepsi cans. I notice they’re already opened, but I don’t think anything of it. Knowing Chris, I fully expect him to have drank some of mine, and that’s him trying to be funny. 
My face puckers at the taste of wine in my can. 
He emptied the Pepsi out and poured wine in it instead. 
He smiles next to me, trying not to laugh. 
A memory of us from when we were 14 comes back to me, and I know that’s what he’s trying not to laugh about. 
“Chris! We can’t take their wine!”
“My parents have like 20 bottles. They never drink. These are all Christmas gifts from other people. I promise they won’t notice,” he assured me. 
I watched as he poured the glasses half full. It seemed like far too much. 
“Try it,” he said, nudging a glass to me. “It’s disgusting.”
I took a hesitant sip. This was fucking awful, but I found myself drinking more at the idea of the thrill. We were doing something we weren’t supposed to, which made the alcohol taste even better. 
A half hour later we were both stumbling up to his bedroom, and I managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, almost missing his toilet. 
He held my hair back and apologized for giving me alcohol. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone we drank. And he never did. 
“Doesn’t taste as bad now, huh?” he asks, snapping me out of my memory. 
I roll my eyes and take another sip. He’s right. 
Once everyone leaves for the night, my family stays back to help Chris’ parents clean up, and my parents were offered a plethora of leftovers.
When Chris showed up, it was a no-brainer that I would be staying here tonight, so he led me upstairs while everyone else said their goodbyes. 
“Shhh,” he hushed me as my giggles flooded the hallway. I’m definitely tipsy, but I’m completely coherent. I think most of my giggles come from the fact that he’s back in Boston. I’m just giddy and happy. 
“Sorry!” I apologize anyway, even though he’s not bothered by the sound of my laughter. He smiles at it. He loves it. 
He lays out a pair of pajamas for me like he always used to. It’s an old shirt from our high school with his lacrosse number on it, and a pair of his boxers. 
I find myself thinking about the girls he had been with that were jealous of what I had with him. Me and Chris had never even kissed, so to think he would be accused of so much more with me was ridiculous. He never failed to stand up for me though. He could have the number one girl, someone perfect for him, and he’d say goodbye to him if they said one bad thing about me. 
We will always be rooting for each other no matter what. 
“Tomorrow we should actually do some stuff around town,” he says as he changes into something to sleep in. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay in bed.” He finishes his statement and flops down on the bed, laying his head next to my thighs.
“I really missed you, Chris. A lot,” I respond, ignoring his suggestion. 
He sits up next to me, looking down at me in his clothing. “I know, Sunshine. I missed you just as much. More, probably.” 
I felt safe with him again, a feeling that had been lost as we spent months and months apart. I craved moments like these, where we would stay up together and laugh. 
The mood in his room shifts when he says, “What ever happened with you and Aaron?”
He knows what happened. I told him before I told anyone else. 
He broke up with me with no explanation, and I was left heartbroken and confused. I wanted nothing more than a hug from Chris, but 3,000 miles kept that from happening. 
“We’re not talking anymore,” I remind him. I really don’t want to be talking about boys right now, but it seems that’s the topic of conversation that is interesting to him most. “Any girls that have your attention in LA?”
He shrugs. “Not really. They’re cool, some are cute, but I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna do anything with any of them.”
Chris has always been very anti-relationships, but that never stopped him from having his fair share of fun. He always made sure they were on the same page that it was just benefits, sometimes not even friends. I am curious what turns him away from exploring with girls in LA. “Why not?” 
“They just don’t have what I’m looking for. I want someone who understands me and what I want, but only a few people get that,” he explains. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my time with someone if I know from the jump that it feels like a waste. And I think about you, and how we are, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that close with anyone else. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think about someone ever taking your place.”
“You can set limits,” I suggest. “But don’t keep yourself from meeting people because you’re worried about me feeling replaced. I won’t ever feel that way. I just want you to be happy.”
“Well, that’s not the only reason you’re a problem in it.”
There’s an ache in my chest at the thought of me being a part of a problem in his life. 
“What?”
“I just– There have been issues before… in the past… where girls have felt threatened by you,” he says, looking down at his fingers, where he picks at the dead skin nervously. “That’s not your fault by the way. It’s dumb. I just… I don’t know.”
I pull his hands away from him. “I love you, Chris.”
He smiles at me and says, “I love you too.”
Somehow, his feels different. 
I check the time on my phone, putting in beside me and announcing to him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”
Just like we always did, innocently of course, I placed the softest and quickest peck to his cheek closest to me. 
I did this as a kid, mostly because Chris would freak out if his mom didn’t give him a kiss goodnight. He insisted that it kept the bad dreams away, and he would ask me to do the same for him when he spent the night at my house. 
So I kissed his cheek like always. 
I tried to.
But Chris moved his head.
His lips graze mine. There isn’t much contact, but there’s enough for me to know that we just kissed, barely. 
He knows exactly what he just did, yet he’s looking at me like he’s shocked. 
I’m not drunk, but maybe this is acting as liquid courage. That’s what I tell myself when I fully grab my best friend’s cheeks and press my lips to his. He lets out a deep breath against me, holding the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair. 
What are we doing? I’m kissing my best fucking friend. My best friend of 15 years. 
I’m lost in my own head, completely out of it until I feel him lay on top of me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand as he kisses down my neck with the other. 
I lift my chin, giving him more room to kiss me.
He finishes placing wet kisses to my skin, then puts his lips back on mine. His full lips overtake mine, but we form a rhythm that has my chest tightening. He kisses me slowly, but the more tongue we add to the mix, the louder it sounds. 
We make out for some time. I lose all track of it. I don’t even know if I’m in reality anymore. My hips aimlessly lift up to try to find something to create friction against. I almost forgot who I was kissing until he pulled back and said, “We’re entering dangerous territory here, Sunshine.”
“What do you want to do then?”
He falls silent, and I fully expect him to lay down next to me and pretend this never happened.
He does the opposite. 
“I would never be doing this if it wasn’t something I had thought about for years.”
My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest. 
Everyone who watched us grow up together is in this house. 
And he’s pinning me down to the bed kissing me in the same room we used to play in. 
“Then do something about it,” I taunt.
He loves this invitation.
Going zero to one hundred, Chris sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it beside me. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass. This is different though. So much different. 
He puts his lips back on mine as his hands slide to the bare skin under my shirt. Without a second thought, I remove it, completely forgetting that I don’t have a bra on. 
His eyes focus on my body, his jaw slacked and his cheeks turning red. 
“Holy shit.”
I instinctively try to cover myself somehow. He grabs my arms and pulls them back down. 
“No no,” he shakes his head. “Let me admire you, pretty girl.”
He kisses me softly down my chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples before sucking them into his mouth, all while he’s rubbing his hand on my inner thigh.
I shift my hips, positioning his hand right over where I need him the most. He stares up at me in awe as I give him this sign of approval, and without wasting any time, he dives his hand into the boxers around me. His underwear. I mimic his movements, dropping my hand through the waistband of his shorts and swiping my thumb over the tip of his hardened cock. He winces at my touch, gasping out of desperation. 
“Please,” he whines. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I’m begging you.”
I yank his shorts down, having the same reaction to his dick that he did to my boobs. I lay below him in shock, mostly baffled by the fact that he’s hung, but also the fact that we’re in this situation. 
When he gets nervous from my staring, he places soft kisses to my lips again, like he’s trying to put my attention elsewhere. 
“Sunshine,” he pants. “I can’t… If we’re gonna do this… I can’t wait,” he breathes out. “I need you now.”
I stroke him slowly, watching his stomach heave. “Have me then.”
In an instant he has my boxers and underwear on the floor in one fluid motion, spreading my legs and laying between them.
“Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” he whispers. He touches my dripping folds carefully, then licks his finger clean. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Always have been.”
I’m in my most vulnerable state. Not only am I naked in front of a man, but this is the guy who has watched me grow up. He has seen me through every stage of life, and now he’s about to be touching me, fucking me. 
“Chris,” I say his name quickly, urgently, like I’m running out of time to say anything.
He looks down at me, pausing from where he was lining himself up between my legs. 
I love you.
He smiles and says, “I know,” before putting my legs over his shoulders and pushing himself inside of me. 
My fist clenches a nearby pillow as my body adjusts to him stretching me out. Chris gasps out in pleasure and shock from this entire experience. He drops his face into my neck, letting me hear his soft moans as he feels me clenching, throbbing around him. 
When I give him the okay, he starts thrusting into me slowly, both of us silent, letting the sound of our skin finding each other ring in our ears. 
I’m having sex with my best friend. 
He places a kiss on my thigh, where it rests next to his face. Then, he pushes one of my legs out, spreading me open more.
“Fuck!” I cry out, the sound quickly masked by Chris’ mouth, where he places his lips over mine again to shut me up. 
“Gotta be quiet, Sunny,” he warns me. I nod, and he puts his hand over my mouth, making sure I keep the volume down. 
His dick hits every spot perfectly. His body clings to mine as our orgasms are in sight. I find myself begging for him, moaning his name, something I never would have expected from us. 
Chris sits up on his knees, pressing my knees to my chest as he pounds into me, his face staring down with a dominant gaze, watching his dick fill me as my cum drips around him.
“Fuckkk,” he groans. “Such a dirty girl.”
All self control leaves me when I don’t bother hesitating as I respond with, “Yours.”
He nods, speeding up his pace. His thrusts become sloppier, much sloppier. “All fucking mine,” he reminds me, then pulls himself out of my pussy and strokes himself through his orgasm, letting himself finish on my lower stomach.
He quickly gets a towel and cleans me up before he places his head on my boobs. My hands dig into his hair, running my hands through his loose curls. 
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sunshine, you know that?”
I smile to myself, but I also know that we completely fucked up us ever having a normal friendship after this. 
My best friend and I fucked. 
And he doesn’t do relationships. 
“You’re my favorite,” I whisper back. 
He places a kiss to my stomach, and I can feel the smile on his face when he does so.
I don’t smile. I know that with our decision tonight, we lost one side of our relationship. 
We either become romantic and it gets fucked up and we lose a friendship too, or our friendship becomes awkward and crumbles because of this. 
Neither of us thought about that before we got ourselves tangled up in each other, and I’m doing everything I can to forget about that fear and focus on the boy I’ve been in love with for years laying on my chest. 
tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts@sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld
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amisunderstoodgoddess · 3 months
Text
Hunt - final
(part one here)
Summary: He kidnapped you. He believes you are his mate. Can you find some kind of peace with the monster who took you away from everything you know?
Rated: M (EXPLICIT +18)
Author's note: If you haven't read the first part, I STRONGLY advise you to do it so you can better understand the story. Anyway, thank you for everyone's patience for this second part. It was a busy few months, but I finally managed to finish it.
I apologize especially for not responding to the comments, I really haven't had the time lately. But I appreciate each and every one of them, thank you so much for that babes!!
ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
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A gentle, icy breeze passes by you and you feel yourself shiver. A smell reminiscent of antiseptics and sterilized products fills your nostrils and, as you begin to become more aware of your surroundings, you feel the smooth, cold and hard surface beneath you. You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are so heavy; your entire body feels heavy, weighing over a ton as you try and fail to move.
You can hear a soft, clean hum in the background, like new, well-oiled machines at work, but when you finally open your eyes, you see nothing but a blur of white just above your body, an uncomfortable glow of almost blinding light. You grunt and blink a few times, trying to move again and managing to dig your fingers into the smooth surface beneath you.
It's then that the memories come rushing back.
Your heart pounds with the memories and you try to stand up with a surge of vigor that wasn't there before, but your body simply won't obey.
How long have you been blacked out? Are you still on Earth? Or had that alien really taken you to space? Why can't you move?
When a deep rumble fills the air, your hair stands on end all over your body. Slowly, the blinding blur of white light is eclipsed by the outline of a giant looming above you with a cold, impassive metal mask. Your heart jumps in your chest and you immediately want to cry. Whether from the effect of sedation or the sheer wave of terror that wracks your body, all you can do is whimper a “please” before your mind wanders into darkness again.
------
The next time you wake up, you are no longer lying on the cold stretcher. Instead, there's a subtle smell of wet earth filling your nostrils, as well as the pleasant feeling of soft fur wrapping your body. You're warm, cozy really, even if you still feel heavy and very disoriented.
You try to move and, with some effort, you manage to remove your arm from the furs that wrap around it. You struggle to open your eyes, blinking away the confusing fog in your mind, and see an infinite amount of furs around you. You squint your eyes and slowly sit up. Your head is spinning, your neck is tight and sore, and you reach for where the alien had injected whatever infernal compound to knock you out like that. Your skin hurts like an old bruise, but there's nothing more to it than that. You can barely find the tiny needle prick.
It's dark wherever you are, except for soft yellow lighting coming from a corner of the room, and you inspect the furs you're wrapped in. The hairs are of medium length but dense, effectively warming without being irritating to the skin; the furs were clearly expertly carved. You had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a skilled hunter and it was obvious. With a little deeper perception you blush and shiver when you feel the soft furs are in direct contact with your skin. Your skin very bare.
The air hisses with every breath you take now, but the new burn of tears helps clear your vision. Looking around as the room comes into focus, turning to look at whatever it was you were lying on. And if you thought you would be able to see something even slightly recognizable, you were sadly mistaken.
Nothing is familiar.
You are lying in what appears to be a giant nest. It's a kind of huge platform, a few inches above the ground, lined with fluffy, cozy fur.
The environment is a little dark, preventing you from really being able to discern the details, but the walls seem to be made of some kind of dark metal and, in one of them, where there is a focus of yellowish light, you can make out the shape of a pressurized door - the bathroom maybe?
Sitting up a little better, you twist the soft fur between your fingers, a way of trying to distract yourself. Your eyes darting around the corners of the room, mapping everything you could see. That's when you see the two glowing eyes peering at you from across the room, in the shadows. Two orange flames fixed on you for God knows how long. You take a deep breath as you throw yourself back, heart racing in your chest.
Crawling through the nest of furs, you try to scream, but no sound can escape your lips. You try to stand and still keep the covering around your body, but you can only kneel on the bed, fumbling with the furs, your heart in your ears, and you're about to get out of the strange nest any way you can when someone grabs your arm and stops you. The giant alien stands before you now, silhouetted dark against the yellowish light behind him — but his eyes appear luminous as they look at you.
He's standing on the floor and you're kneeling on the tall bed made for creatures larger than you, and yet he towers like a mountain over your small body. You can barely breathe; the creature's huge, deadly clawed hand wraps around your arm like it's just a fragile twig, and for a second you think this is it – this is the moment you would lose your life. But the alien, now without his mask, just looks at you and lets out a low, guttural growl from between his scary jaws. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, he effortlessly pulls you closer to him.
“I-I,” you sigh as you try to stay in the same position. You try to fight him, but he doesn't even seem to notice your efforts. "Please please!" You don't know what exactly you are begging for. But you're not stupid, the unfamiliarity around you could only mean that he had actually kidnapped you. You're on his ship. And if you're on an alien's ship, outside of Earth, completely defenseless and alone, it's because there's no way out.
The creature throws you onto the furs and gives you an icy glowering look before crouching on the ground next to your body, all the while looking at you.
You struggle to breathe. He pulled and pushed you as if you weighed absolutely nothing, showing incontrovertible evidence that he would have no problem dominating you.
He watches you intensely as he has since the first time, tilting his head slightly with obvious curiosity, his dreadlocks falling as they follow the movement. The way he sits is so human, so familiar; his arms rest on his knees, his muscular shoulders are comfortably angled and his legs are bent and wide apart. Although he appears almost relaxed, his gaze is penetrating and dangerous.
You make yourself small - which already seems obvious with the way he towers over you even though he's crouched on the ground - alarmed at what might be stirring in the large creature's mind. You had been chosen by him — at least that's what he told you. A mate. Would he force you? Had he been waiting for this moment since the first time he saw you in the lab? And why did that thought make you feel strangely flushed?
He, on the other hand, doesn't seem prepared for an attack. He just sits there, watching you like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.
You wrap your arms around your knees while keeping the furs around your shoulders to hide your body. Running would be fruitless, you know that, and you'd rather not trigger anything primal in the Predator, like acting like prey. It would be the worst move, actually. Instead, you bury your face in your arms and wait.
The alien is silent as night, and for a moment you hear nothing but your own ragged breathing and the soft hum of the ship. When you look shyly from beneath your lashes at him again, he’s still watching you. There's a disturbing intensity in his eyes that makes you beyond nervous, but there's no malice there. Not that you can tell. It's just some kind of undeniable dominance, like he knows you're so far beneath him, that he could do literally anything to you without worrying about your resistance to it. And yet he is there, still waiting.
The…creature, doesn’t blink as he slightly parts his jaws and his head tilts towards you, curiously. "Are you afraid?"
Once again you are startled to hear his translated voice resonating right inside your ear, in the walls of your skull. A low sound. A coarse sound. A curious growl that grazed your bones as if the sky itself was growling at you.
“H-uh.” You're not sure if 'afraid' is a strong enough definition for what you're feeling. Looking at the dark, burly figure that seemingly can't get enough of watching you from the dark recesses of his room fills you with a kind of nervous, suffocating anxiety that makes it difficult for you to breathe. You almost wonder if you're about to pass out. “I…I wouldn’t say afraid.” You lie through your teeth and then, for lack of anything else to say and because you're desperate to understand exactly what the hell you're doing here, you say, "Do you have a name?"
The predator tilts his body a little more towards you. You lean back nervously, because this isn't what you wanted to happen, but he moves slowly and cautiously and pauses just the tiniest distance from you. “Doh’kein.”
He waits, as if waiting for you to say something, announce yourself, say anything.
"Do...D-Dou...kai?" You repeat with difficulty, trying hard to at least try to please this creature and stay on his good side.
He snorts between his jaws and something in the way his broad shoulders vibrate and his flaming eyes shine tells you the sound is something like laughter, fun and guttural; and you imagined the joy of a mountain.
"Doh'kein." He repeats, slower this time, looking expectantly at you.
"Huh - Doh'kein?" You try one more time.
The alien in front of you purrs in approval when you repeat his name almost perfectly, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You startle and scream, trying to pull away, but a large hand wraps around your arm and holds you still. His deadly jaws slide along your skin and you arch your neck just to avoid being hooked by one of those things, but unfortunately he takes your gesture as an invitation to continue.
"Y-You've never spoken before. In the lab."
You stutter, trying to start a talk to keep him distracted from what seemed like the end goal of all this.
“That wouldn’t be logical,” he mutters. Against all logic, you exhale shakily as you feel one of his sharp fangs slide gently past your ear, pressing what could be a kiss to the shell. "It's not like all of their primitive ears could understand me if I tried."
The baritone of his voice murmured so close to your ear sends shivers down your spine and you find yourself clenching your thighs. Doh'kein braces himself with both arms in the nest, on either side of your hips, eclipsing your small body with his until he is all there is - until he is all you see.
You argue futilely in an attempt to maintain self-control - his and yours: “W-we could have talked sooner.”
“We could. But then other oomans would know this part of me,” he answers clearly. "Do you wish this had happened?"
You are extremely embarrassed by the immediate ‘no’ that almost rolls off the tip of your tongue. Despite all your fears, you find yourself almost jealous when you imagine this alien being like this with other people. You bite your lip and let your silence answer for you. There is no doubt that this is a disservice to your team and the research being carried out – you seek truths and yet the truth is that you are secretly happy that this is yours and yours alone.
Even if you have difficulty accepting it.
Doh'kein snorts. He brings his broad forehead to your smaller one and your knees reflexively part to make room for him as he settles between them, still kneeling on the floor. The shine in his eyes dimmed. Reminds you of a pyre after the fire has burned for hours at a time; the glowing ash left to cool overnight.
“If I hadn't participated and let them do the tests on me, you wouldn't have paid attention,” he continues. You shiver when he places a hand on your thigh, the grip is careful but it makes you shiver nonetheless. The size of his body forces your legs wider around his waist, to the point where your joints hurt. But he doesn't move, he just waits while the gears in your head turn.
“You...” you gasp as it hits you. “You could have left whenever you wanted.”
He slowly studies you at your words and tilts his head, motioning for you to continue. There is an unshakable composure about him that makes you uneasy. You get the feeling he knows your thoughts before you express them.
“You stayed and cooperated with the research. Even when…even when some of those people treated you like an animal. You could be anywhere but there. You could have stopped that at any time. But you waited."
Doh'kein once again snaps his jaws and snorts his equivalent of a laugh. The sound soon turned into a buzzing noise. He places a large hand on top of your head and leans back into your space, uncomfortably close, as if he wants to impress the answer inside you. “That was exactly where I was supposed to be at that moment. You are my mate."
That word, again.
Silence stretches after that and your skin crawls under the intense scrutiny, a fixed, unforgiving gaze on you. Your mouth is dry, your heart is racing with proximity, your hands, slightly sweaty with tension, are curled into tight fists in the fur around your body. It's not the place or time for it, but slowly you feel the fear turn to...intrigue, despite yourself.
Your captor doesn't seem like the talkative type, but every word that leaves his alien mouth seems to be charged with the purest electricity. That, combined with the intensity of his gaze, was making you tense and coerced — like a little rabbit caught in some trap. And yet, some kind of curiosity was forming in the back of your mind.
You had never experienced anything like it. No one had ever looked at you like that. Bright orange orbs on a completely inhuman face exuding a sense of devotion and hunger that you were unaware of until this moment. It's disturbing and frightening at its majority essence - it's also curiously flattering on the other hand.
A silent chirp pulls you from your thoughts. He must sense your latent anxiety, because the alien pushes you gently (much more gently than you'd imagine for someone his size) against the nest of soft fur and you sink down with a shuddering sigh and a racing heart. His scent envelops you; rain, earth and tall grass.
“Doh’kein,” you falter. “W-why do you keep calling me that? How can you be sure I'm the one you want as a mate? I'm just a human."
You only mention the issue of the difference between species, your overloaded brain can barely think about the challenges of the physical logistics of the act.
“I see that,” he states dryly, as if the fact that you put yourself down irritates him. “But you are mine, little ooman. My mate. And that's not open for debate."
As he covers your body like a mountain of solid muscle, you press the soft fur over you to hide as much of your modesty as possible. Doh'kein doesn't seem to like this very much. Without the slightest warning, the tip of his thumb slides across your knuckles - still stubbornly attached to the covering of fur - and your mouth goes slack at the difference in textures of his scaly skin on your soft flesh. He places one knee on the nest of furs and leans above you, lowering his head so his dreads fall around both of you and obscure his hungry expression. You feel the ghost of his long, sharp claws prickling your skin as his dexterous fingers explore the details of your comically small hand, swirling tantalizing patterns in your own hidden blood beneath before intertwining your fingers with his and freeing your nails sunk into the blanket of furs.
His touch is deliberately gentle as he guides your hands splayed above your head, but his gaze tells another story; firm, fixed and heavy in his message - a warning. It awakens the most basic survival instinct rooted in your genetic code, it raises the hair on your body, it accelerates your heart, it leaves your lips dry with fear.
And it makes the heat spread between your legs.
There is no logical explanation for this reaction of your body. But in the end, it doesn't matter. For whatever had been, or whatever might have been, was completely ripped from your mind at the very moment you heard the thunderous sound resonate in his broad chest.
That purr again.
A rhythmic trembling that seems to rise from the depths of him and take root directly in your very being. So mesmerizing and effective that it makes you forget the dangers of those deadly jaws when he brings his face closer to yours, sliding his long fangs across the softness of your cheeks. You part your lips in an attempt to breathe better, you ball your hands into tight fists on the furs - obediently keeping them where he left them.
As if that wasn't disturbing enough, something different catches you seconds later. Not a hand, not anything tangible, but something entirely invisible.
The invisible thread of a scent.
The scent curls around you before you even knew it was there, without any chance to stop it, to escape its grasp. And suddenly you're tangled; tangled up because of him, this strange alien, even though he does nothing but keep his giant hands splayed in the fur around your body to support his own weight - which, of course, would be more than capable of easily crushing you if he didn't do it, looking at you with a focused and intense gaze. At the same time, you are captive to his warm musk, in a way that only someone like you, so disastrously unlucky, could have been. And before you know it, you're looking at him, not in surprise or disbelief, but in a spellbound trance. Trapped by a breath of rain-damp wood, of a sweetness like slippery stone and the flames of a bonfire on a cloudy day. It's welcoming, it's inviting.
It's impossible to contain the way your eyelids immediately become lethargic and your senses clouded at the first sign of his musk permeating the air. The creature's scent is as overpowering as the first time; it invades your nostrils, thick and heavy, unable to ignore it.
Suddenly you can't speak.
The smell makes you feel a rush of intense, unreal attraction. By an alien. Your hands twitch above your head, and you bite your trembling lower lip. As you do, you watch with hooded gaze the way Doh'kein's sun-colored eyes trace your actions.
“You feel it too, don't you?” he asks in a throaty sound, doing his best to break through the confusing haze of your thoughts.
You can't answer. You don't know the answer. You think you might be whining.
The predator also hears your embarrassing whine, of course. His head tilts slightly and the small thorns on his heavy eyebrows fall darkly over his eyes. You watch as his slick, plum-colored tongue comes out of his strange mouth, stretching beyond what any tongue should be able to, until it leaves a warm, wide trail of saliva on your cheek. And although you shouldn't really enjoy it, you found that you couldn't help but sigh in pleasure at the animalistic act and squirm beneath him.
What's happening to me? You think through the immensity of confusing static in your mind.
You're not squirming to get away.
The subtle but restless movement of your hips has nothing to do with it, really.
You don't run away when he reaches out with a giant hand to cup your chin, guiding your eyes closer to his in a trance that seems endless. To force your gaze on his primal possession. Though his spectral touch penetrated you; leaving a shiver behind him that tickled your chin and cheek in an effervescent shudder.
He doesn't need to force you into anything. His presence is magnetic to you, and yet you can't tear yourself away from his enormous intensity. You can't help hold his gaze. And you see his brow furrowed above you, sink into those serious eyes that map your every expression closely, ignore the danger of his deadly fangs so close to your face.
You stay silent as you watch him. Hostage of unsaid things. Of things without explanation. You just accept it when your skin tingles with a million little feathers of anticipation, with an urgency to be touched that becomes more and more overwhelming the longer he stays near you.
In a pull that was nothing short of urgent, he pushes away the fur that was on your body. You cry out, a little startled by the sudden action, shivering when his jaws buries itself in your hair to breathe, hot and heavy against the back of your neck. Then, resting a large, clawed hand on your shoulder blades, he begins to descend your body, each growling breath coming faster as he descends.
Doh'kein growls and the sound comes from somewhere deep in his body, untamed and wild and eager. Inhaling you deeply, as if he was smelling fine wine. That burgundy tongue appears again, sliding down your neck. You feel his hand on your waist trail down the soft expanse of your belly. You shudder at his demanding touch, your body responding naturally to his touch. Electricity sizzles through your veins. He pulls you towards him, sharp claws running down your back and around your side to caress the lower curve of your breast. The subtle scratch of his claws only adding intensity to the sensations.
Your chest tightens and your face feels hot. Maybe it's the fear, the confusion that goes through your mind or it's all the fault of that addictive scent emanating from him, but your body pulses. Every bit of you feels so alive that it practically vibrates with energy. What if this was all a hallucination? What if you were at home, lying in your comfortable bed, lost in an intense dream rich in details? Maybe-
Wild claws graze the skin on the sides of your breasts, leaving goosebumps and tearing a cry from your lips.
You had never felt like this, like your belly was warm and lit, full of fireflies.
What is this, anyway?
You look up with misty eyes, finding intense swirling golden pools. As mesmerizing as before. Warm breath blowing across your flushed cheeks. Spice and heat filling your nose.
It's like looking at the sun; the blinding rays of light so powerful, burning their pattern into your eyes.
You snap back to reality and immediately notice your two hands gripping his broad obsidian shoulders, the muscles beneath the scaly surface so powerful you can practically feel the raw strength of them beneath your fingers. You had advanced towards him until your nipples were brushing dangerously against his very, very muscular chest. Your core vibrating with a pulse you wanted so badly to ignore. You blush and pull your hand back, but you can't pull it away completely as his arms cage your body.
He pulls you by your hair and pushes you deeper into the warm furs of the nest, pressing his body against you like he knows you're silently yearning. He’s solid, huge. Terrifying. You tremble in his grip and let out a cry of surprise when he thrusts his hips against you. The hard, thing writhes with every pulse, precariously restrained by that Tarzan loincloth around his wide hips, pressing into your belly like it's trying to find a home in the soft hollow below your ribs. Even without actually feeling it skin to skin, the pure sensation of the heavy member against your belly leaves no place for doubt about its size. Not that it's a surprise, considering the alien's corporeal mass - but the very solid, very long weight of his penis against you like this is still capable of eliciting a loud gasp from your throat.
Your reaction seems to amuse the giant, who grunts and snaps something between his jaws in your mouth that you're sure sounds a lot like laughter, grinding against you until the air is forced from your lungs and the only thing you can think deliriously is that it will kill you; that he's about to rip your insides out and maybe even scalp you, considering the firm grip he still has on your hair, the way his claws rake your scalp.
Two things become clear to you then:
1) you are not as scared as you should be about such possibilities.
2) the time for patience and gentle touches has obviously come to an end.
His eyes slowly - very slowly - leave your face and slide in an intimate caress up your bare torso, lingering on your pert breasts, and he widens his jaws in an elongated trill. You don't need a translation to know he's satisfied. He's hungry, orange orbs overflowing with an obvious need that he makes no bones about keeping hidden.
But, unlike the course of action you expected, Doh'kein steps away and steps out of the nest, standing back on his feet. Surprised, you sit up and just look at him, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from the previous rough treatment.
The giant alien in front of you waits a few seconds until he is absolutely sure he has your full attention. And then, in an unexpected gesture, he rolls his powerful shoulders a few times, lifting his body and adjusting his posture until he's at his fullest (which makes him even more intimidating, if that's possible), emitting a sound that you I hadn't heard it until now. It looked like a puff from a big bear, but longer and stronger, more proud. It's almost like a growl, but not as aggressive as the ones you've heard from him before. The whole thing confuses you, but only for a moment. You part your lips in surprise when you quickly understand his intention.
It's some kind of mating dance. An assertion of dominance and a call to mate. Just like an alpha male would do.
The sound continues rolling between his jaws and echoing between the walls of the room in his ship, crackling like the other sounds coming from him, but more thunderous. He rolls his shoulders once again, clenching his fists and showing how strong he is. You really didn't need a reminder of the fact. But you can't deny that the soft yellow ambient light dancing across his broad torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he purposely moves in such a way as to highlight them, is absolutely breathtaking - in a way that frightens you a little; he is clearly showing you that he will be a good mate.
His eyes as hot as flames are fixed on you with a gaze that burns mercilessly through you. His jaws flare once more, he bares his inner fangs in a growl, and the bangs and clicks grow louder. The sound vibrates through you, and his scent fills the chamber even more. Despite the undeniable fear, your heart races in response, your belly churns, and the slick between your legs betrays you once again as your pussy pulses to be filled.
It's then that you notice the bulge that was poking you a few minutes ago. You can't look away, and in the middle of his seductive vocalization, he lets out another laugh. His sharp claws undo the knots and clasps that keep the loincloth secured around his hips, and you swallow hard, bringing your knees closer to your chest. He lets the fabric fall to the floor, and your mouth falls open as the alien's cock immediately rises against his belly.
It was a monster in its own right, just as you imagined - and yet...no, it's nothing like you imagined. Long and sturdy. Ridges resembling little barbs line the entire length of the underside of the biggest penis you've ever laid eyes on in your fucking life. The color doesn't differ much from the rest of him - the same shade of gray that spreads across his torso and belly also extends along his massive length, up to a bulbous head that gradually changes to an almost purplish color, an imposing scrotum hanging below. Prominent veins cover the shaft and make his penis look even scarier. The entire length, but especially the head, glistening with what appears to be some kind of natural lubrication, alarmingly highlighting those sharp-looking bulges on the underside of his penis. The mere idea of him taking you with that thing makes you visibly shake with anxiety.
“Y/n.” Your name in his growling voice makes you snap out of the daze you were in and you look into his eyes, scared and pathetically excited, blushing at the nothing short of smug expression on his inhuman face. There is no denying that his tactics are having an effect on you. You know he knows you would submit to him like pitiful prey.
Regardless of your newly awakened desires, the powerful claim in his courtship ritual and his intimidating girth, to say the least, frighten you and, instinctively, you try to step back as he places one knee on the furs again. Doh'kein, however, is faster and all you can do is whimper helplessly as he grabs your ankle and stops your escape. The ends of his dreadlocks slide down the softness of your bare torso as he mounts you once more, caging your small body beneath him.
A deep, low rumble escapes him and you catch a glimpse of that long tongue once again as he tilts his head suggestively.
He's smelling your excitement. You know he is.
His huge hands wrap around your thighs with comical ease as he spreads your legs wide apart, exposing you to him without an ounce of reserve. You hide your face in your hands and sob an embarrassed cry as Doh'kein tastes your scent in the air, feels your heat and wetness on his reptilian tongue without even needing to touch you. You bite your lip and swallow a moan, feeling embarrassment burn through every pore, as well as arousal.
“Y/n,” he repeats, and you try and fail to hide the tremor in your body at the sound of his voice vibrating the walls of your mind. You will never get used to it. Doh'kein spreads your legs further apart, exposing you even more to him, and then he presses that word, as if he wants to imprint it into your flesh through pure repetition. "Mate".
A hand holding your thigh releases it and slides down. Your breath catches as he runs over your inner thigh, dragging his claws across your soft skin with the intimacy and experience a years-old lover would have, before reaching your core to cup your intimacy. You gasp and jump out of bed and his hand tightens, grabs you. Pussy, pubic bone, all together, all right there, in Doh'kein's abnormally large palm.
He looks between your legs. Really look.
Orange pools absorbing like osmosis the image of your little pussy caged between his ridiculously thick and long fingers. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just stands there, holding your most intimate part as if it were a fragile toy. It's not the first time you've been intimate with someone, although it is, in fact, the first time with someone...less than human. But even so, you've never been looked at with so much desire and possession. The attention makes you move timidly to try and cover yourself, but Doh'kein clearly doesn't like it as he abruptly lifts his face to you and growls an unspoken threat - once again grabbing your wrists with his free hand and pinning them above your head. You whimper and squirm against his hold, but you're no match for the creature's brute strength.
Doh'kein presses a considerable amount of force against the nest, a firm and unquestionable warning, before slowly releasing them. When you don't move in retaliation, he purrs in satisfaction and focuses once again on your intimacy. He looks at the place with hungry curiosity before gently twitching his fingers, giving you an experimental squeeze that encompassed absolutely every outer area of your pussy and more.
You whimper and Doh'kein's gaze is drawn to yours. He watches your face intently for a reaction as he slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive, needy bud that is currently your clit, and your breath hitches when you bite your lip - you don't know if it was a conscious movement or just a exploratory attempt, but the action electrifies your body with a pure jolt of pleasure. His dreads jiggle and his jaws twitch as he purrs with delight, and unexpectedly, he leans toward your neglected breast, letting that plum-colored tongue lather your nipple with his heated saliva, wrapping the forked muscle around it.
His rough tongue wraps around your sensitive bud once, twice, three times, making you shudder and gasp as his rumbling purrs vibrate through his chest in response. You squirm in his nest, your head thrashing as he bounces between each breast, sliding that tongue over every inch of your sensitive skin, the scratch of his sharp jaws scraping your soft flesh only fueling the fire that roars loudly inside you. His thumb slides once again across your clit (gliding easily with all the wetness you're shamefully producing) in a slow, deliberate circle that makes you sure the action is purposeful.
Slowly, Doh'kein retracts his tongue back into his sharp-toothed mouth, hearing you moan louder with each slow turn of his thumb, shaky mewls escaping your lips and you blush as you notice how arrogant he sounds with irrefutable certainty that you're enjoying this.
The alien seems strangely familiar with human anatomy and carefully caresses the edge of your canal before rupturing it with an intimidating finger. You cry and immediately tighten your pussy around his finger, fighting against the girth that, alone, is bigger than anything you've taken inside you recently. But Doh'kein is not discouraged. He pushes his finger inside you, sinking it deep with the confidence of a man with a purpose. His claw scraped almost uncomfortably against your inner walls, sending small, sharp flashes of pain through you with each movement, but even that was tiny when compared to the magnitude of pleasure you felt.
The place fills with the sound of your breathless pants, your fragile mewls and the sound of your pussy being fucked by that finger.
The predator grunts deeply as he explores you, thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow but deep movements, and when he feels satisfied with one, he begins to insert another.
“N-no!” You gasp and instinctively grab his wrist to try stop him. Your eyes are teary and you look at him while shaking your head. “Please, I c-can't, I can't take another-”
His face turns, slowly. The frown is almost cruel as he looks at your small fingers gripping his wrist, then looks straight into your eyes. You let go of his arm as if you had burned your hand.
"Yes you can." That's all he says, looking into your eyes. That's all he thinks you need to hear, apparently. His thumb poking your clit one more time to make you jump from the sensation. You sob, lost between the intense waves of pleasure and panic, and the giant clicks his jaw before returning with his exploration.
You cry out at the burning sensation of pain as he pushes in his other finger, stretching you further than you've ever been stretched before. The sharp pain quickly mixes (mercifully) with your excessive excitement as the creature quickens his pace.
"That's better. Good girl, just relax,” he praises you. His thumb keeps rotating and tapping against your clit, effectively distracting you from the pain, his fingers reaching deep, and his claws lightly scratching your insides. The mortifying sounds of your abundant wetness echo louder and louder between the walls of the room, along with your sobs, screams and moans. "That's it, little ooman. Come on, cum for me." Doh'kein mumbles into your eardrums through the translator, leaning up until his dreadlocks are falling like a curtain around your face, hiding you from the rest of the world.
A hand sinks into the softness of the nest, right next to your face, long claws digging hard into the furs, to the point where you hear them tearing — a form of restraint, maybe? You can't think about it too much, though. Heat pools in your belly abruptly, your vagina tightens with burning pain; your insides aching with pleasure and your chest tightening before everything explodes in a devastating orgasm. You scream, your pussy clenching around his invading fingers, and you close your eyes so tight you see stars shining in the darkness of your eyelids.
You can't breathe; you really try to breathe through it, but nothing comes, there's just your lips parted in a silent scream - your body too tense, too tense, as the orgasm washes over you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy cries, flooding his hand and sucking him at the same time. Goosebumps run through your body, muscles twitch, sweat slightly erupts from your pores, and when you finally come down, your body feels indulgent and soft. When he pulls his fingers out of you with a wet snap, you gape, hating the void he's left.
He's an alien, you repeat weakly in the confusing haze of your mind, a creature that coerced you and took you away from your planet without your permission. What you are experiencing are just pleasure hormones. Nothing more or less than a hormonal combination of serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin. They are truly responsible for the feeling of well-being, reduced stress and the relaxation that seems to wash over your body at the moment. Doh'kein is not a god, he is not a god. No matter how much your body disagrees with that right now.
Doh'kein purrs as he slowly strokes the aching, swollen flesh of your sex; he opens you with his wide fingers, slowly and gently, grunting in contentment as he sees how your little hole continues to contract sporadically. He moves his fingers over your sensitive clit and teases it before returning to your folds.
It's just pleasure hormones, you repeat over and over again as you feel his digits probing every inch of your abused pussy, as if he can't get enough of touching you. You still whimper with every breath and can barely lift your arms, much less fight against him as he takes his time inspecting your hole and all the wetness that gushes from there. Your body was still affected on some level by the sedative he had given you earlier and, now, by the powerful orgasm that brutally ripped through your insides. All you want is to snuggle into those soft furs and sleep.
Doh'kein, however, would not allow this.
You mewl a little when he grabs you by the waist and turns you onto your stomach in one fluid movement. You feel like putty; choosing to just give in and let him mold you however he wants - even if, miraculously, you had some strength to fight him, it's obvious that you wouldn't be able to. He adjusts you on your knees, spreading your legs wide as he does so. The explicit position embarrasses you, but you do nothing but gasp as your face is buried in the bed and your ass lifted into the air.
He positions himself behind you. His large body shadowing yours, his hand sliding almost reverently down the sharp curve of your spine until he cups a plump globe of your buttock between his fingers in a firm grip. You blush and bite your lip as you feel a hot, heavy, wet shaft fall into the crack of your ass. He gently slides there a few times, grinding against you as he continues squeezing your flesh, lifting and lowering your ass by the length of his cock.
"I've wanted you every moment since I found you. Every day smelling you, but not being able to act, was torture. Being patient has never been more difficult for me than in those days." He confides in that baritone voice, threading his other hand into the strands of your hair, gently digging his claws into your scalp and pulling to force you to arch your back more. You groan at the sensation, your hips beginning to mimic the movements of his, sliding your ass cheeks onto his dick yourself. "But the wait was worth it. It's time for me to fill you, it's time for me to finally make you mine. My mate." He finishes whispering in your brain, the little chip in your skin working quickly to translate the growled words and clicks of his jaws. His words, his smell, his movements...everything is pushing you into another spiral of pleasure.
Too weak to object, you just shiver as the extraterrestrial creature aligns his monstrous cock with your newly stretched pussy, his fat tip coated with that natural lubricant poking at your wet entrance. He firmly grips your hips and, with one determined thrust, sits inside you.
...
That's it.
There is no slow entry or split stretch.
He just pushes and goes in.
You scream.
It's very big. You feel like you're being torn apart, split in two, stabbed from the inside, and you desperately grab the fur beneath you to crawl away from the burning pain, but Doh'kein's grip on your hip keeps you in a steel prison. Maybe he thought about it and decided that it would be easier if he came in at once instead of prolonging the torture - and maybe later, when you had a clear head and thought about it, you agree that this was actually the best choice. But all you know now is pain. You scream as he leaves; each little barb protruding from the underside of his menacing cock abusing your inner walls, vibrating your overstimulated clit and sending stabs of pain throughout your entire being. When he plunges into you again, he goes even deeper, slamming hard against your cervix, bruising it.
Tears flood your eyes instantly and you sob into the fur, clutching the covers so tightly that your knuckles ache and turn white. Your body shakes with pain and shock, and you can feel you soaking the furs with your tears and saliva as you cry, softly begging him to stop.
Surprisingly, upon hearing your whimpers, he stays still for a moment, buried deep inside you. Desperately trying to accommodate him, your walls contract repeatedly and grip his shaft, and beneath the blinding pain, there is a surprisingly pleasurable sensation of being completely filled, completely stretched. Full of him.
The predator is grumbling behind your back. Elongated grunts and sporadic snorts. Like a poorly restrained animal. The grip of his fingers on your hip is painful and you can feel the tips of his claws bruising your skin. You'd have marks after this, you think. Bloody cuts and purple bruises as the price for getting involved with something (someone) your human body should theoretically be incapable of handling. If you survived, of course.
"You're so...tight, pauk, I never imagined...paya, your h'dui'se is addictive-" Your translator seems to have some difficulty with some of his words and you blink, confused, but at the same time overwhelmed with all these sensations. By God, he looks positively wrecked - barely clinging to the limits of self-control.
And then, apparently having resigned himself to the fact that he was going to lose this battle, Doh'kein thrusts again, his balls slapping against your wetness and your clit. At that moment, you knew that the devastating and unreal pleasure you felt was, most likely, the result of your brain; like a desperate attempt to deal with the pain of this unnatural mating – because honestly, nothing should feel this painfully good.
“You look so good, my little human.” Growling, he pressed his claws into your skin a little tighter and this time you were absolutely sure there was a cut and blood. “Don’t fight me.”
“Ooh, God,” you whimper as his cock continues to defy the limits of your human capacity. It’s too big, too weird, and you can literally feel how your walls try to reject it.
Doh'kein flattens a giant hand across your back, pressing your body further against the nest of soft fur. “Easy now, mate. You can take me." He pushes deeper. “You see? I'm completely inside you. You feel me? Do you feel like my cock gives you no choice? It shouldn't be there, should it? Oh no, it shouldn't. It's wrong, isn't it? But isn’t it just as good?”
God. He suddenly becomes talkative, the small chip implanted in your skin working quickly to translate the rude words that clack through his jaws.
“Y-yeah,” you cry, though. Because, yes, it's good in fact.
“And it's about to feel even better." He grabs you by the hips and pushes you hard. He fucks you repeatedly, and it's painful, very painful, but it only fuels you pleasure. Another thrust, and this time he forces a broken moan from your depths. Your wetness soaks his waist, your pussy clenches around him with torturous eagerness, and the predator on your back sets a relentless pace. You gasp a strangled mewl and shake, clutching the furs beside your head for dear life, trying to keep yourself as stable as possible with each brutal jolt of his body against yours. There is no romance or soft touches from a gentle lover. He's fucking you. Claiming your body in an undeniable act of animalistic possession. A true predator in heat.
There is no mercy. He abuses you with his monstrous strength, with his unparalleled stamina, and takes everything from you – your dignity, your free will, and any future hope of finding a human who can match him; in the vague and foolish hope in the possibility that you would return to Earth. His claws dig into your hips, every breath he takes is a cruel growl, and you express out loud your pain and your pleasure in equal measure.
Each little pliable barb at the base of his penis rubs fiercely and repeatedly against your tight inner walls, reaching spots inside you you didn't even know existed. Despite the tension and pain, the warmth grows and blooms like a beautiful flower in your womb again. You mewl and whine, feeling the building release tighten in your core; you needed little to fall off that precipice of ecstasy again. But Doh'kein grunts deeply, calms the fierce thrusts in your pussy and slowly pulls out of your body.
“N-no, wait, please-” you breathe desperately, pushing your hips back to maintain contact with him. Desperation taking over your body as the tendrils of ecstasy slip like sand through your fingers.
The creature deeply rumbles what you know to be a laugh (a laugh at your expense, much to your embarrassment) and parts your ass cheeks, exposing your wet, swollen folds, the cruel pulsing of your pussy around nothing. You don't know why he stopped - since he's obviously been craving this even more than you, but he's taking his sweet time now, widening your hole and digging those claws into your skin possessively - and you feel an embarrassing need of screaming at the top of your lungs for him to just go back to fucking you in that ridiculously comfortable nest.
"Do you like that, pet..." He growls and it's a statement, not a question. He knows you like it. Your body is making it obvious. You blush and try to pull yourself up onto your shaking elbows, but Doh'kein is faster. In an almost savage movement, he wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you scream with your cheek pressed firmly against the furs of the nest.
He places his other hand next to your head and lowers himself until he is hovering a few centimeters from your body; big, wide, powerful. You can feel his alien jaws ruffling the strands of your hair, you can feel the strange tubes of his dreadlocks tickling your back, and you can especially feel the possessive, territorial way in which he holds you still as he press you by the back of your neck. There's not much you can do but give in, soften your body against his grip and submit to this creature that is obviously countless times stronger than you.
His broad chest pushes against your back as he makes the rumbling, crackling sound again, a more aggressive (though definitely satisfied) purr, and your nostrils are filled with his earthy scent. It fills the back of your throat, your lungs, your mind, your body, and makes you ache even more for him. You let out a breathless moan and writhe on the bed, pressing the fur tightly between your fingers and begging for him as you arch your spine and displays your intimacy to him. Your pussy cries, desperately searching for the cock that dominated you just moments ago.
"My name." Your body is a trembling, pulsing line of nerves and you barely hear the command whispered in your ear. Everything in your line of vision (already hampered by the way your hair is wildly loose) is blurry and confused and you try to swim out of the sea of pleasure you're drowning in, in the smell of earth and rain and an undeniably masculine musk that is threatening to dull your senses once again.
"What--"
"Say my name."
Your eyes widen and you almost choke on the word before it finally escapes your lips.
"D-Doh'kein."
He smiles, huffs his strange laugh into your hair, pushing that scary member between your ass cheeks to reward you - sliding it up and down once, just teasing your pussy every now and then until you're squirming.
Only then does he say. "Beg."
His claws are ghosts of danger on the sensitive skin of your throat, in spots that could quickly and easily end your life. And you know he could, without any effort, hurt you and draw blood - just as he did the battered flesh of your hips. But he doesn't. And that alone, the control and dominance that exude from the male behind you, makes your head spin and your pussy tighten until it hurts.
“Please…please – I just, I need this, please…” You mumble, only half coherent.
He held your ass firmly, spreading you wide, before pressing his swollen tip against your entrance. You choke and bite your lip, but even all the need and heat coursing through your veins isn't enough to drown out the scream that explodes from you as he plunges back into your pussy with a roar. The stretch takes you to the limit you were teetering on just moments ago and your body falls apart, happy to seize the opportunity it had been denied before. You tighten around him, holding him with all your might; your whole body twitching, but Doh'kein doesn't seem to care as he pounds into you with relentless thrusts, grunts rising from within him like thunder sounding in the sky. You scream again, your vision blurs and your torturous pleasure echoes wildly between the walls of the room on this alien ship. Your hard nipples rub against the fur of the bed as they grind incessantly to his strong thrusts, and the monstrous cock continues to rearrange your insides; the ridges of his length torment you, drive you crazy, and prolong your release until you're nothing but a wet, quivering mess.
He leans over you again; and you cry as you feel the wetness of his growling saliva run down your exposed shoulder, hot and slick, the black tubes moving like a curtain around both of you, and he grips the back of your neck tighter as he begins to pound into you violently - frantically.
He is an animal and there is no other definition that fits what is happening.
You make a sound like a sob. There are tears on your face, hot and salty against your skin. You can no longer tell where you begins and ends, only that you are fused with Doh'kein. His hips on your ass, his cock on your cervix, which he abuses with each brutal thrust. You can't say who you are or remember why you're here, but you can tell he's close.
“I need to breed you,” he growls into the side of your face, pressing you into the nest almost angrily, “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I can’t think of anything other than filling and breeding you for the rest of my life – I need this – I need to try, right now, every day–”
“I want it, I want – I want it,” you babble incoherently through the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth, all sense of self-preservation going out the window as your senses are dulled, “I want you to breed me, I want it, please!" The fact that probably nothing could be generated from an alien/human union seemed to be irrelevant to both.
You just accept it all, happy to be used as he fucks and bites you with those strange jaws and desperately chases his own release.
Doh'kein growls and hits you one last time. His cock grows and swells and feels like it definitely shouldn't fit, like there shouldn't be enough place inside you to accommodate it - but you moan, pussy stretching like it was made to envelop him, and then he's basically locked inside you. You float, only vaguely aware of him pressing you into the nest as he collapses some of his colossal weight onto you, because all you can think about is his roars, the hot cum filling you in thick bursts, plugged inside you by his inhuman cock. He grinds his hips into your ass, pushing his cum deeper and deeper, but the amount is so great that it inevitably escapes where your bodies are joined.
You feel soft and fuzzy, stuck in that satisfied, complacent head space. You writhe with aftershocks and warm goosebumps that bubble up your entire body, from your scalp to your toes. Even though every inch of your body hurts and you know there are cuts and bruises on your flesh, you've never felt as full as you do in this moment.
Time passes between deep, panting breaths and consciousness returns in fragments; first, the intense, aching pulse between your legs, where Doh'kein is lodged deep inside you. Secondly, his weight on your back is practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Third, you are sweaty and sticky and bleeding in places.
You shift instinctively, trying to lift one leg, and he growls at you. His cock tugs at your insides in a way that isn't pleasant and you freeze at the sharp stab of pain. Your body finally feeling the effects of the extraterrestrial union. You moan at the sensation, but it comes out more as a wheeze since your lungs can't fully expand under his weight. “Y-you're crushing me, Doh'kein. I need to breathe, please-”
This catches the attention of the giant behind you and he rolls to the side, the feeling of his cock slipping out and letting more of that sticky fluid escape from your used pussy draws a low mewl from your throat. You have two seconds to inflate your chest for oxygen before he's turning your body and climbing on top of you once again. You blink like an owl as you find yourself face to face with the predator once again. The orange orbs are fixed on yours as he supports his weight on his hands beside your head, long ropes of defined muscles run up his forearms and into his broad shoulders, giving him an intimidating appearance. Not that the four jaws on his alien face weren't enough for that, of course.
You're proud that you don't jump when he touches your face with those sharp clawed fingers, holding your chin and turning your face from side to side.
“I, huh-” you begin, confused when he does nothing but inspect your face inch by inch in complete silence. Now that the frenzy and excitement were subsiding, a different kind of embarrassment washes over you as he lets go of your face and shifts his attention to your breasts and stomach. He ignores you when you stutter a shy question as you feel him groping your breasts and your waist, too rough fingers caressing as gently as he can the bloody welts where his claws have scratched you. He doesn't apologize or show any kind of regret, nothing about his alien facial expression changes when he looks up at you with his ember eyes again. But he continues massaging your flesh in gentle strokes, tilting his head towards you and moving his jaws once. And you know that's the biggest apology you'll ever get from him.
He seems pleased with whatever look is on your face at the moment, because soon you can hear that purring sound once again. A sound that, added to the extreme tiredness that plagues your body, makes you want to close your eyes and sleep. But Doh'kein has other plans. Without any effort, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you into his lap as he stands, taking you both to what you assume is the bedroom's bathroom.
He doesn't stop his purring as he walks and you're grateful for that, the sound is calm and light and makes you forget about the many problems you obviously need to face. You wouldn't waste energy on that at the moment, though. It wasn't something that was worth or would make any difference, to be honest. Apparently you are bonded to this creature, destined to be his mate or whatever. You are no longer on Earth and cannot even match your strengths and abilities with this creature. Fighting it would be futile.
You look down and touch your belly, marked by some bruises from his powerful grip, and wonder if the union had any success. If not, he might want to try again, just like he says. The thought curls warm and shaky at the bottom of your spine and you feel your face heat up as you discover that you would welcome more attempts.
You look at him from under your eyelashes as he enters the bathroom, leading you both to a huge bathtub - although, to you, the thing looks more like a swimming pool. As you watch him, you notice that the predator's face is as rough and scary as it always was, but when his beautiful orange eyes lower and look at you with such devotion and possession, it's impossible to control the tremor in your body. On some level he is under your command too, you realize. He has been since the beginning, when he allowed himself to be captured and imprisoned just to chase your scent - the scent of his mate. Just the thought of it sends a thrill through you.
You feel his hands on your buttocks as he adjusts your body against his scaly skin, his other hand pressing a few buttons to make the tub fill. A shiver runs down your spine. He shows no sign of straining as he holds you, just keeps you steady and perched on his shoulder as much as you can with your dreadlocks falling loosely around his head. You feel his muscles flex beneath you.
Clutching you to his body, his release still leaking between your thighs, Doh'kein carefully steps into the tub and sits down, arranging you on his lap. You keep your head on his shoulder, feeling his rough hands squeezing your waist and hips, the hot water enveloping your muscles in the best way possible. He squeezes your flesh almost gently, sliding his fingertips instead of his claws. He's massaging your bruises again, you notice. With a tired sigh, you settle your head in the crook of his neck and you can swear his purr stutters for a second.
"Rest, little ooman. We have a long way to go." He grunts glumly and enigmatically, but you just hum some answer, already feeling your eyelids heavy and mind lethargic.
The last thing you think, still hearing his purring and his strange attempt at aftercare is that, with some effort, you could adapt to this new life.
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penny00dreadful · 1 year
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So does anyone remember that post that was like "Robin and Eddie meet when she does that thing that's like 'hello, please pretend you know me so I can get away from this person' then Steddie happens?" Because I do. I cannot for the life of me find it. If anyone knows the post I'm talking about please let me know so I can link it, this is very much not my idea, it's that persons idea but the brain worms got me so here we are. 🤷‍♀️
We found it! It's this post by @wynnyfryd Thank you Anon! Obviously I went in a different direction with it but this post was 100% my inspiration so thank you for helping me find it!
AO3 link for those asking! 🖤
Robin should be royally pissed off with herself right now. She would be if she wasn’t so damn scared.
That guy was still trailing behind her, no matter the twists and turns she’d taken down different streets trying to lose him and the only thing she’d gained from it was to get totally and completely lost. It could be something completely innocent, the guy might be coincidentally going in the same direction as her but she wasn’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt if it meant keeping herself alive.
The distance between the two of them was slowly closing as she was followed through the dark and empty streets of the city, hoping, praying for some kind of shop or restaurant or something to make an appearance so she could hide inside but apparently Robin was able to find the one street in this city where everything was either closed for the night or boarded up.
Her heart was pounding in her ears and the beginnings of tears were starting to sting her eyes and all she could think of was how sick with worry Steve was going to be in the morning when he woke up to no missed calls, no missed texts and no Robin. She’d scoffed at him hours earlier when he’d offered to go to the ‘work thing’ with her but she'd told him she was a big girl and she could look after herself and not to be such a worrywart mom.
And now she had no idea where her phone had gone, if she'd left it behind or dropped it somewhere, no idea where she was and no idea of what she was going to do.
If she’d been a bit more present in her head she probably would have noticed the loud, braying, male laughter coming from just ahead of her and crossed the street to avoid them before it was obvious she was avoiding them. But as it was she could barely see straight through her tears and panicked tunnel vision while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the slowly encroaching guy behind her. She was practically already in the group’s space and one of them had definitely already seen her though he didn’t pay her any attention.
But even through her blurred vision and panic, she finally registered what exactly she was looking at. Four men standing around the entrance to what looked like the diviest of empty dive bars, chain smoking and being as loud as humanly possible, but that’s not what caught her eye.
Long hair, chains, leather, denim, tartan, rings, tattoos, subculture. If Robin had to choose a group of men to approach, any kind of subculture would be the best option. They knew what it was like to be other. There was no guarantee these guys were safe, but they were probably safer than a group of frat boys.
The next thing that caught her eye that nearly made her cry in relief as she got closer were the patches and pins.
A rainbow ‘A’ against a black and white striped background pinned on one guys collar, a yellow-white-purple-black patch on another's arm, a pink-yellow-blue patch over the third guys heart and a progress pride flag pinned to the largest guys pocket.
Her people.
Without a second's hesitation she made a bee-line for them, planting herself firmly next to yellow-white-purple-black patch person who had a mess of thick light brown curls that reminded her of Steve’s hair. They fell painfully silent at her arrival.
The four of them blinked down at her, with her tearfilled eyes and wild aura of panic around her they were probably, understandably freaked out.
“Hi guys!” She called out to them, probably a little too loud, hoping her voice carried back to the fucker following her, tensing as she could actually hear his footsteps approaching now.
The guy with the longest hair and the pink-yellow-blue patch standing directly in front of her glanced quickly over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. His face split into a wide warm grin, tapping her shoulder lightly.
“Hey girlie. We thought you weren’t coming, we’ve been waiting.”
The footsteps behind her audibly slowed down. Robin laughed, a little maniacally, keeping her frantic gaze on him, not daring to turn around. “Yeah, I uh- g- got sidetracked.”
“Eddie, what-”
Pink-yellow-blue patch guy, Eddie she supposed, slapped ‘A’ patch guy lightly on the stomach with the back of his hand, shutting him up as her pursuer passed them by, giving the group a wide berth.
“Hey, no worries. You’re here now, right?”
Pride patch guy kept his eyes on the guy who’d been following her the whole time, only looking away when he eventually turned the corner, disappearing into the night.
Robin immediately felt her posture slacken now that he was finally gone, the full weight of everything coming down on her. Her tears began to spill over and her whole body shook as hysterical sobs started to pour out of her body.
“I’m sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I think I left my phone behind and I don’t know where I am. We only moved here a couple of weeks ago and I got lost trying to get away and- and-”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” Yellow-white-purple-black patch person squeezed her shoulder lightly, keeping their distance. “You’re okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“We can call someone for you, if you want?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms tight like he was trying not to reach out to her, probably worried it would freak her out more. “Boyfriend or girlfriend-”
“Or romantic partner.” The person with their hand on her shoulder interjected lightly.
“Alright Baron from the Baronies.” Eddie snorted. “But fair point, Gareth. Romantic partner or friend or whatever?”
“Um,” Robin’s voice was still shaking. “I don’t… I’ve never been good at memorising numbers…”
“Me too, terrible at them.” Eddie smiled again, pulling his phone from his pocket. Robin’s fear and panic was almost entirely gone now even though she was still hiccuping and sniffling underneath their concerned gazes. They were all firmly keeping their distance, keeping any touches short and fleeting, not moving too suddenly, trying their best to make sure she knew they weren’t a threat and it was really helping her to start feeling safe again. “But we could try to find them online? Instagram or something?”
“Yeah. Yeah we could try that.” She wiped her eyes roughly against her sleeve as she shuffled over to Eddie’s side. “My best friend, Steve, he uh- he’s probably asleep and I don’t think you can call him if you don’t have him added…”
“You can send him a message.” Eddie replied easily, handing his phone over. “And if he doesn’t wake up, we’ll try something else.” 
“Don’t worry we’ll get you home.” ‘A’ patch guy smiled down at her while pride patch guy nodded along.
Robin sniffed again. “Thanks.” She was able to conjure up a small watery smile as she opened the app and found Steve’s profile, shooting off a quick message begging him not to freak out and explaining the situation as concisely as she could.
“Here.” She handed Eddie back his phone who glanced down at it for just a second before his eyes widened slightly as he scrolled through Steve’s profile.
“Oh shit. This is your friend?”
Robin nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
“He’s… he’s really pretty.”
That managed to pull a startled laugh from her. “Oh god, don’t tell him that, you’ll give him a big head.”
“Let me see?” Gareth asked, whistling low when Eddie turned his phone around showing a photo of Steve and Robin at their last pride parade cheering with the crowd, Steve with the pink-purple-blue of the bi flag smeared across each cheek and Robin with the pinks, oranges and white of the lesbian flag draped around her shoulders. “He is really pretty.”
Eddie snatched the phone back, cradling it to his chest. “Fuck off, Gare. I saw him first.”
Robin smiled again. “Any response from him?”
“Hm?” Eddie asked distractedly, scrolling through Steve’s photos before pride flag guy punched him in the shoulder. “Ow! Wh- oh, sorry!” Eddie frantically scrolled back up before clicking into his messages again and shaking his head. “Nothing yet.” He held the phone out to show her.
“Okay.”
“What’s your address? If he doesn’t respond, we'll find a way to get you there.”
“Uh…” Robin was drawing a complete blank, only able to remember her parents home address hundreds of miles away.
“Or tell us something nearby.” Eddie added, not missing a beat, clearly picking up on Robin’s lack of an answer. “What’s on your street?”
“Um,” she closed her eyes, trying to picture it in her head, “there’s a couple of Chinese take outs, Asian food store, paint store… there’s… I think it’s a tattoo parlour? There’s designs painted on the window, a tower on either side. I think they’re from Lord of the Rings?”
“Inklings? Is that the place?”
Robin opened her eyes. Eddie was grinning at her conspiratorially. “That’s it. You know it?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I work there?”
“No way.”
“Way.”
Hope was starting to grow feathers inside Robin’s chest. She could go home, she didn’t have to stay out all night waiting for Steve to wake up and never let her out of his sight again, she could hug her best friend and drink coffee out of her favourite mug and curse at their finicky fridge and steal his hair products again. She could go home.
“Is it far?”
“Nah, only a few streets away. Ten minute walk, tops.”
“D’you- I mean… do you think you could-” Could she really ask them to walk her home after they’d already done so much for her? Would she be asking too much? Could she be putting herself in more danger?
“I can take you there if you want? Let you get back to your… Steve.” There was a slight blush dusting over Eddie’s cheeks. Maybe he did have an ulterior motive, but it wasn’t an ulterior motive involving her. If she wasn’t so wrung out and aching to crawl into her own bed she’d be thinking up teasing material to lambaste Steve with. But as it was, she was desperate to get home.
“Would that be okay?”
“Yeah.” Eddie replied, bright and easy. “It would just be me and you though,” he held his hands up in surrender, “and you can totally say no, like if you're uncomfortable or whatever. Gareth is Grant and Jeff’s ride home and you’re still on the clock, right?” He turned to Gareth towards the end of his sentence.
“Yeah, but I get off shift in about an hour so could come in if you wanted, wait around in the back room until then if you wanna go as a group?” They answered. 
“I think… I think I just want to get home.”
“Okay, cool. No worries I’ll get you there safe and sound. Here,” Eddie pulled his phone out again, “I’m gonna message Steve to let him know we’re on the way in case he wakes up,” he showed her the short message only sending it off when she gave a nod, “and I’ll get you to navigate just so we don’t get lost.” 
He handed his phone to her with the maps app open, directing them towards Inklings tattoo parlour. He was playing it off like an easy joke, instead of another way to assure her she was safe. He was making sure she knew exactly where he was taking her at all times, he was making sure she had the ability to call the police or whatever if he turned on her, he was making sure she knew he didn’t need or want her address if she didn’t want to give it. 
This fucking guy.
He definitely wouldn’t be the worst choice Steve had ever made if it did go that way.
“I don’t know how to thank all of you, seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Grant smiled at her before hesitating. “Uh, I just realised we don’t have your name.”
“Oh!” She laughed at herself, feeling lighter. “I’m Robin.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Robin.” Grant held his hand out, shaking hers once she took it.
“Likewise.”
“And don’t worry about thanking us, just pay it forward, yeah?” Jeff said.
“Plus.” Gareth took on a nonchalant tone even though they had a smirk plastered over their face. “We’ll see you again at Steve and Eddie’s wedding.”
“Shut up!” Eddie scowled but didn’t hold onto it for long in the wake of Robin’s giggles.
She sighed once the giggles subsided, a weight lifted off her shoulders. “I look forward to it.” She raised her hand in salute as the three of them headed back inside, turning to Eddie as he held his elbow out.
“Shall we?”
Robin tried to suppress her smile but took Eddie’s arm anyway. They only made it down one street and around one corner, Robin clutching tight to Eddie’s phone before he finally asked.
"So."
"So."
"Best friend Steve." Eddie twirled his rings around his fingers. "Is he…"
“He’s single.” She answered lightly. “But you might be arriving into his life at the wrong time. He’s recently sworn off men.”
“Well we’ve all sworn off men once or twice. Men are terrible.”
“Agreed.”
“Is it because of a bad ex?”
Robin threw her head back with a groan remembering the giant breakdown that had finally finally ended it. “Tommy was the worst. He’s the reason we even moved out here, there’s nowhere to get away from an ex in a small town, you know? They’re everywhere. I’m not going to go into what happened, it’s not my business to say but it was bad.”
Eddie nodded, his eyes down on the ground, running through everything in his head.
Robin could see the tattoo parlour up ahead, the glorious sight of their apartment building just a few buildings away.
“Do you think… with time… he could open himself up to men again?”
Eddie had such a tentative hope in his eyes, it was adorable really. Looking over him, she thought about the type of people Steve would constantly thirst over, blip in the matrix Tommy Hagan notwithstanding.
Lithe bodies with full lips and giant eyes, hair he could run his fingers through and something unusual about them. Something odd.
He’d never explicitly gone for someone so heavily into a subculture before but he’d never turned them down either. And based on Eddie’s job at the tattoo parlour and the way he was dressed, he almost definitely had some ink on him. That alone would be enough to make Steve swoon.
“I think he might. Will you walk me up?” Robin asked, holding the door to the building open, offering Eddie the same kindness under the guise of doing a favour that he had offered her so many times tonight.
“Yeah, sure.”
They’d managed to make it up to the third floor, walking down her hallway before Eddie’s phone started to ping incessantly.
She turned the phone over in her hand, looking at the screen. “He’s awake.”
Robin, where are you?
Are you okay?
I’m on the way.
Please be okay.
Their apartment door was flung open just as they reached it. Steve was standing there panting and terrified, his hair a mess, his glasses askew, his jacket and shoes thrown haphazardly over his pyjamas.
“Robbie.”
Steve slammed into her, holding her tight before immediately letting go to inspect her face and running his hands over her body, checking to see if anything was wrong.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? What do you need?”
“Steve.” Robin caught his fluttering hands in hers and squeezed, nearly crying out in relief just to have him with her again. “I’m okay. Eddie and his friends helped me.”
“Eddie-” Steve looked to the side, noticing her saviour for the first time. “You’re Eddie.”
“I’m Eddie.” Eddie gave him a short little wave and a dazzling smile that quickly dropped in shock as Steve pulled him into a crushing hug, his blush returning with full force.
“Thank you, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve-” Steve took a big breath in and loosened his arms from around Eddie’s shoulders. Robin saw his eyes slowly trail over his face before very briefly flicking down to the pink-yellow-blue patch then back up. “Come inside, the two of you. Can I get you anything? Tea? Decaf coffee? A glass of water? Like, literally anything to say thank you.” He asked, ushering the two of them into the apartment.
Steve caught Robin’s eye behind Eddie’s back and mouthed ‘oh my god he’s fucking gorgeous!’
Robin snorted and thought to herself ‘sworn off men, my ass.’
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 4 months
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Taking care of his girls (part 1)
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (y/n)
Warnings: none
a/n: another girl dad Carlos because I just can't get enough
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Y/N's pov
The newborn stage is extremely challenging. Sleep deprivation caused by countless sleepless nights, lack of energy, baby crying even though she ate half an hour ago, trying to figure out the cause of her crying, colic, baby not latching, painful feedings or lack of milk production - all that and much more comes when you step into motherhood. Trust me, it is exhausting both physically and mentally and anyone who says otherwise is lying!
However, not much is talked about how demanding and tiring and difficult it is when you are burning with a fever and can barely stand on your feet, and you have a two-year-old daughter who also has a flu and who, in addition to all of that, is a very stubborn daddy's little girl and doesn't really like to listen to anyone except her dad. That two-year-old is our little girl Bea. Bea is a very stubborn and smart girl who is very attached to her dad and loves spending time with him. She is completely enchanted by him and whenever Carlos returns home from the race, she does not separate from him.
We've only recently started taking her to the races, but since she tends to run around the paddock and starts screaming when it's time for Carlos to get in the car, we've decided that we won't be able to follow Carlos everywhere he goes.
This time we could not attend the Grand Prix in Italy for another reason, and that reason was because I caught a flu, which almost knocked me off my feet, and two days later Bea was burning with a fever as well.
Being alone with her while I was sick, doing all the housework, cooking and taking care of her was very difficult and exhausting. I was very worried about her because she had a high temperature, she was very weak, she didn't want to eat much, she was crying all the time and she just wanted me to hold her in my arms and cuddle her.
Carlos returned from Italy to our home in Madrid yesterday and we both couldn't wait to see him. When he came back I could finally breathe a little, sit down and rest because he decided to take care of both of us.
It was the same today, even though I felt a little better, Bea was still coughing a lot and her nose was blocked, so I decided to go to the pharmacy to get a children's inhaler. Carlos decided to stay with her and fulfill all her wishes, and today the wish was cuddling and watching cartoons in the living room.
It took me quite a long time to get to the pharmacy, make the purchase and get back home, so I only returned after 45 minutes. The sight that greeted me when I entered the living room brought tears to my eyes, but happy tears full of gratitude.
Bea was lying curled up on Carlos' chest, his arms wrapped around her as his head fell back against the back of the couch his lips slightly parted as both of them were fast asleep while Dora the explorer begged for help in the background. Carlos tied her hair into a small ponytail on top of her head while her baby hairs were messily sticking out. For a moment I just stood next to the couch and watched them smiling and thinking how did I get so lucky?
"Babe" I approach Carlos from the back of the couch and whisper into his ear. "Babe, wake up." It took him a minute to realize they had fallen asleep and to wake up.
"Ay dios mío.." You could also hear the tiredness in his voice because he didn't sleep at all last night. He demanded that I rest and that he would look after Bea overnight.
"Let's take her to bed okay?" I say quietly trying not to wake her up.
"What time is it?" He asks.
"It's only 7 p.m. I'll take care of her tonight, you get some sleep okay?" I say caressing his cheek.
"No, no I'll do it You still haven't fully recovered amor and I want you to." He says leaving a kiss on my thumb. Just as Carlos slowly straightened up from a semi-lying position on the couch, Bea startled and started crying.
"Shh cariño, no llores." (shh darling don't cry) Carlos immediately began gently shushing her and rubbing her back as I sat next to them.
"Do you want to go sleep in mommy and daddy's bed baby?" I asked her placing a kiss on her hand. She doesn't usually sleep with us, but when she is sick we always let her.
"No" She rubbed her eyes nervously, still crying and burrying her head into the crook of Carlos neck. "Papa, mama" She whined extending her little hand towards me, but not wanting to leave Carlos' embrace.
"Está bien mi amor, mamá y papá están aquí, no te preocupes." Carlos said tightening his grip around her with one arm and with the other pulling me closer to them.
We quickly gave up on trying to talk her into going to bed because we realized it would only upset her even more so we both decided to curl up to Carlos.
"Mis princesas." I leaned my head against his shoulder wrapping my arm around our little bean as Carlos kissed both of our foreheads.
Part 2 here
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norrizzandpia · 4 months
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Hiiii I love your writing so much!!! Can I request an imagine where Lando is streaming and the reader says something and lando is like “when I marry you” and the reader is like WHEN? And lando is all like in love and the stream goes wild. Then she leaves the room and lando is like “I can’t wait to marry her “ or smth…. Thank uuuuuu
When? (LN4)
Summary: Apparently, to Lando, it is not a question of if he will marry Y/n, it is when.
Warnings: none
Sitting in a swiveling chair beside him, Y/n peaks over Lando’s shoulder, watching as his car on the video game spins out of control before crashing into the barriers.
“Shit!” Lando screams, his body flying forward from his chair to hunch over.
Y/n giggles in the background as the chat berates Lando for his poor sim skills whilst also being a Formula 1 driver, “You’d think you’d be so good at this game?”
Lando shoots her a look over his shoulder, a warning glance, before he shakes his head with a snicker, “You try it, then.”
Y/n shakes her head, “Nah, I’m good. Leave it the professionals.”
Lando nods with a tsk, finding her presence and her words funny nonetheless. There’s a ringing on her phone that shakes them from their moment, Y/n picking it up and noting the unknown number.
“Hello?”
Murmuring sounds from the other side of the phone before realization flows through Y/n and she nods as she speaks, “Yes, sorry. I will ask my boyfriend for that right now. I’m not sure what the exact code is.”
The word code makes Lando mute his microphone, knowing if people found his apartment with the knowledge of the code to get in, all hell would break loose.
“Who is it?” He asks her.
“The delivery guy. What’s the code to get into the building?” Y/n replies, her free hand landing on his bicep as he turns around to fully face her.
Lando’s body warms at her touch, “2576.”
She nods and he unmutes the microphone, the couple going back to their old ways.
“You know, you could just make it easier for me and write the code on a piece of paper for me. Or at least let me write it in my Notes app. I always forget it.” She chuckles, noting the way the delivery man texts her he’s making his way up the stairs, gaining closer to the apartment.
Lando mindlessly laughs, “I don’t want it to get leaked or for you to lose the paper. Maybe when I marry you, I don’t know.”
The chat erupts as silence ensues behind him. Lando sneaks a glance at Y/n behind him, the girl jaw dropped, “When?”
His eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, when. What about it? You think I don’t want to marry you? You think I don’t already have it all planned out in my head?”
Y/n shakes her head, disbelief bleeding from her being, “Well, what a nice surprise!”
She giggles, still a bit taken aback, before leaning forward and planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek. One which he grimaces at and wipes away, although his heart beats faster in his chest at the gesture.
She smiles down at him as she stands up, mumbling about the food being there, as she lays another kiss yet this time meeting his lips. She stares at him a bit more before leaving the room, the two being lovesick in the way their eyes shimmered.
Lando, let alone for the moment, read through the chat and laughed at their words, “What do you mean ‘I’m crying, that’s so cute’ I thought people knew how serious I was about her?!”
Max laughs from the other end of the call, “Yeah, what? Lando has been talking about marrying Y/n since he first met her.”
More messages flood through and Lando can only smile blissfully, “Well, you heard it here first, folks. I can’t wait to marry that woman.”
At this point, the chat is triggered into a frenzy and Y/n looks bewildered when she comes back with the food, slightly overwhelmed at the volume of words infiltrating the screen.
“Jesus Christ, did Lando moan again?” She jokes, though by the way Lando doesn’t answer she actually worries for a moment.
He’s quick to reassure her though, “No, just informing the chat on how in love I am with you because apparently they didn’t know.”
Blush rises to her cheeks and Lando pulls her down onto his lap, the two digging into the two bowls balancing in her lap. There’s a chowing session between the two, their hunger taking over, as they continue to converse with the chat and Max.
Truly funny, though, the way the conversation steered into the topic of Lando and Y/n getting married as the engagement ring rest in the depths of his sock drawer, begging to be taken out and displayed on the finger of his favorite girl.
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stxrslut · 2 months
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i blame you and this 🤭 i tried to write this properly, but i just couldn't get the words down right so now i’m in your inbox 💗</3
imagine you had finally gotten to sleep — laying on the sofa or in bed, the tv on quietly as rafe keeps on checking in on you…
and then barry calls rafe, making his phone go off really damn loud waking you up 🙄. he’d be so angry.
wrote this a tiny bit differently but it’s still pretty much the same (??) idk if you hate it I’ll write it again lol
when barry comes crashing into the house, Rafe wants to hit him. you had just gotten to sleep, curled up in a ball of blankets on the couch with your favourite show playing quietly in the background.
“ay country club, you home? jeez why you got the lights off in ‘ere” as he says it he flicks the lights on. this agitates you enough to wake you up.
you let out a pained cry, looking up to see Barry standing there looking like a guilty child. you can’t even bring yourself to speak to him, you just let out a mix between a sob and a shout. “Rafe!”
your boyfriend is there within the second, rushing over to you and putting a hand over your eyes to block the light. “shit, Barry turn the fuckin’ light off!”
the shorter man rushes to fumble with the switches on the wall, returning the lights to their original state. but the damage is already done, you’re sobbing into your blanket, rafe’s hand on your back.
your head hurts, your eyes feel like they’re being stabbed, your stomach feels like it’s doing backflips. everything sucks and in rafe’s eyes, it’s all Barry’s fault.
his first priority is to tend to you, so he brushes Barry off as he walks round the sofa to crouch right infront of you. “hey, hey sweetie, you’re okay.”
your boyfriends hand brushes your cheek, “can you look here for a sec,” he emphasises by turning your head in his direction.
you sniffle and look at him, nose red and tears staining your cheeks. he puts a hand on your forehead to feel the temperature, and tsks when he does. “hi sweetheart.”
he doesn’t push for a reply, he just stands and gets your water bottle, making you take a sip. then he tucks you back in. he picks up the plastic sick bowl you’d been keeping with you, “use that if you need to okay? m’gonna go talk to Barry for a sec…”
he gives you one last kiss on the forehead before he leaves, pushing Barry out of the room unceremoniously.
you never saw the dealer when you were having a migraine, ever again.
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