#PLAYING HIDE AND SEEK WITH TIME AND ALWAYS COMING JUST SHORT… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elia-the-bibliophile · 21 days

Note

Hey I have this Charles x reader request in mind where they're in a backstreet relationship and someone is being rude to her while she's in Monaco? the rest of how the story goes is up to you:)

Protective Boyfriend Mode (Charles Leclerc x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word count : 2,8k

Dating Charles Leclerc in secret has its perks.

For starters, Y/N doesn’t have to dodge the metaphorical tomatoes hurled by the public just yet. The judgment, the microscopic scrutiny, and the sky-high expectations that come with being a WAG? She’s more than happy to keep those at bay for now.

Y/N doesn’t mind that the world has no clue she's dating Charles. What really counts is how he treats her when they’re away from prying eyes. Who needs the world to know when she gets the best version of him, away from the cameras and the chaos?

His family, of course, is in on the secret and backs her decision to stay incognito. Honestly, Y/N doesn’t need the publicity circus that would erupt if they went public. She enjoys her peaceful, average life, free from paparazzi ambushes and social media execution.

Sometimes, Y/N can’t help but indulge in a little harmless online stalking of Charles’ exes—Giada Gianni, Charlotte Siné, Alexandra Saint-Mleux. These women look like they’ve stepped straight out of a magazine cover, and she has zero shame in admitting it. Envy is one of the seven deadly sins for a reason, and let’s face it, she’s only human.

What really gets her is trying to figure out why on earth Charles latched onto her after dating these goddesses. It’s like he stepped out of a sleek Ferrari and decided to cruise around on a humble bicycle.

She swings between feeling like the luckiest girl alive and wondering if he might need a stronger prescription for his glasses. The whole situation leaves her scratching her head and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

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Today, everything grated on her nerves. Her hair looks like it could fry chips. Her skin is dull enough to blend into the wallpaper. The toaster has chosen today of all days to go on strike. To top it off, her co-workers keep bombarding her with Teams calls without even checking if she’s available. If she could rate this day, it would get a solid 0 out of 10.

“Can this day get any worse?” she mutters to herself, glancing at her reflection. “Y/N, you’re one bad hair day away from looking like Bellatrix Lestrange.”

Her laptop buzzes with another Teams call. She groans and answers, forcing a smile. “Hi, Harvey. Can I help you?”

“Hey, Y/N! Quick question—”

“Harvey, quick question for you: Did you check if I’m available?”

“Uh, no?”

“Exactly, so please, next time, do me a solid and check if I'm available before hitting that call button, okay?”

Just then, her phone buzzes with a text from Charles.

“Hope your day’s going better than mine! My helmet decided to play hide and seek.”

She snickers and types back.

“At least your helmet’s hiding. The toaster just gave up on life.”

“I'm really sorry about your day, ma chérie. But I promise to make it better. I'll swing by your favorite bakery and bring back a ridiculous amount of cakes just for you.”

That earned a smile out of her. Trust Charles to know exactly what she needs.

As Y/N tries to shake off the day's frustrations, she decides to distract herself by scrolling through Instagram. Among the posts, one catches her eye—a recent upload from Jasmine Tookes, her celebrity crush since forever. Jasmine looks stunning, as always, flaunting a gorgeous Yves Saint Laurent bag in cherry red that's absolutely to die for.

Y/N can practically feel the allure of the bag through the screen, and an idea sparks in her mind. The YSL boutique is just a short walk away.

“Maybe a little retail therapy is just what I need to salvage this day,” she muses aloud.

Without giving it a second thought, she grabs her purse and heads out the door.

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As Y/N steps into the YSL boutique, she's greeted by the scent of a distinct perfume mingled with a hint of leather. The store is relatively empty, save for a few tourists browsing the shelves. Undeterred, Y/N scans the display case, her eyes searching for that coveted cherry-red bag she spotted on Jasmine Tookes' Instagram.

From her peripheral vision, she notices a couple of sales assistants giving her a once-over, but no one approaches her. She shrugs it off, relishing the freedom to browse at her own pace. Finally, she spots the bag she's been dreaming of and makes her way over to it.

“Excuse me,” she calls out to one of the nearby sales assistants politely. “Could you tell me about the stock availability and the price of this bag?”

The sales assistant approaches, but when she begins speaking in French, Y/N's heart sinks. She's not fluent in French, and she quickly apologizes, asking if they could switch to English instead.

There's a momentary hesitation from the sales assistant, who seems to be holding back an eye-roll, before reluctantly switching to English. The demeanor, however, turns chilly, and Y/N can't shake the feeling of being judged.

“I'm sorry, but that particular item is not available,” the sales assistant replies curtly, her tone dripping with condescension. “Perhaps you should try checking other stores that may be more suited to your purchasing ability.”

Y/N's cheeks flush with frustration, her jaw clenching as she tries to maintain her composure. She can't believe she's being treated this way in a store she loves. Taking a deep breath, she forces a polite smile, trying not to cause a scene.

“Excuse me,” she says as politely as she can muster, her voice trembling slightly. “May I ask what made you say that to me?”

The sales assistant's gaze hardens, her tone dripping with disdain. “Maybe you should look into a mirror and see your own appearance today.”

Y/N's eyes widen in disbelief. So what if she's just dressed in a plain t-shirt and linen pants? Is minimalism suddenly not cool anymore?

Y/N retorts, her voice edged with disbelief. “Are you seriously judging me based on how I look? Last time I checked, being a customer wasn't contingent on wearing a designer outfit.”

As she speaks, Y/N notices some discreetly filming tourists nearby, their expressions mirroring her shock and disbelief. She feels a surge of vindication knowing she's not the only one appalled by the sales assistant's behavior.

Y/N's fists clench tighter at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she struggles to contain her rising anger. The sales assistant's dismissive wave and condescending tone only serve to fuel the fire burning within her.

“Madame, this is a respected establishment,” the SA says, her voice dripping with thinly veiled contempt. “Please take your leave.”

Y/N's jaw tightens, her frustration reaching its peak. She opens her mouth to retort, to unleash the torrent of words building up inside her, but then she stops. What's the point? Arguing with someone who clearly lacks any sense of professionalism would only waste her energy.

With a deep breath to steady herself, Y/N turns on her heel and strides out of the store, her head held high despite the humiliation burning in her chest. She refuses to let this one encounter ruin her day, but she also knows she won't be returning to that boutique anytime soon.

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By the time Charles arrived home, juggling two bulging shopping bags filled with an assortment of delectable cakes, he could practically taste the sour mood emanating from Y/N. Despite her attempts to shrug off whatever had bothered her, Charles refused to let it slide.

He set the bags down on the kitchen counter with a soft thud, his brow furrowed in concern as he approached Y/N. “Hey, bébé , what's wrong?” he asked gently, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

Y/N forced a tight smile, trying to brush off his concern. “Oh, it's nothing, Charles. Just a little hiccup. Not worth your energy, really.”

But Charles wasn't about to let it go that easily. He could sense her distress, and he wasn't one to stand idly by when someone he cared about was upset.

Before he could press further, Charles' phone rang, signaling an incoming text message. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he glanced at the screen, seeing the name Lorenzo flashing across it. The text sounded urgent, almost concerned, and Charles felt a knot form in his stomach as he read the words: “You need to see this.”

Curiosity mingled with dread as Charles opened the message, his heart sinking as he watched the video attached to it. There, playing out on his phone screen, was footage taken by a tourist earlier at the YSL store. His jaw clenched in anger as he watched Y/N being treated with such disrespect, her humiliation on full display for the world to see.

He curses under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides as he paces back and forth in the living room. His mind racing with thoughts of how to address the situation.

Charles then gently takes Y/N's hands in his own, his expression softening with concern as he looks into her eyes. “Why didn't you tell me about this right away?”

Y/N's smile falters slightly, and he can see the sadness lurking behind her eyes, but she quickly masks it with a playful tone. “Ah, you know me, always trying to avoid unnecessary drama,” she says, attempting to brush off the seriousness of the situation. “Besides, sometimes people are just assholes, right?”

Her attempt at humor falls a bit flat, and Charles can't help but feel a pang of guilt for not being there to protect her. He squeezes her hands gently, his voice filled with determination. “You shouldn't have to deal with this alone, Y/N. I'm here for you.”

Y/N gives him a small, grateful smile, but he can tell she's still trying to downplay the situation. “Hey,” she says, her tone lightening, “at least people will think it's just a video of some random person being treated badly in a luxury brand store. They won't know it's Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, right? So, let's just let it go and move on.”

She tries to lighten the mood with a joke, but Charles can sense the underlying tension beneath her words. He knows she's just trying to protect him from the inevitable media storm that would follow if the video gained more traction.

But Charles can't shake the feeling of anger and frustration bubbling inside him. He wants to defend her honor, to make sure she never has to endure such treatment again.

Reluctantly, he nods, forcing a small smile of his own. “Okay chérie. Let's just focus on enjoying these cakes, shall we?”

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The very next day, unbeknownst to Y/N, Charles decides to pay a visit to the YSL store. With a determined look in his eyes, he discreetly asks for the service of the sales assistant who humiliated Y/N.

Colette, the SA in question, practically beams with excitement and arrogance when she learns that Charles Leclerc has requested her personally. Straightening her posture, she approaches him with an air of self-importance.

“How may I be of service, Monsieur Leclerc?” Colette asks, her tone laced with enthusiasm.

Pathetic. Charles thought to himself.

He adopts a casual demeanor, pretending to browse the store as if looking for a gift for his girlfriend. “I'm looking for something special for my girlfriend,” he says casually, noting the way Colette's eyes light up at the mention of his romantic status.

Colette tries to contain her excitement, feigning nonchalance as she responds, “Oh, I wasn't aware you had a new girlfriend since your breakup with Alexandra Saint-Mleux. She is also a regular customer here.”

Charles decides to play along, a dangerous glint in his eye as he says, “Yes, my current girlfriend is a very private person. She prefers to stay out of the spotlight.”

Curiosity getting the better of her, Colette can't help but ask, “May I see a picture of her? Just in case she happens to come by, I'd love to be able to assist her.”

Charles smirks inwardly, knowing this is his moment to turn the tables. “Sure, why not?” he replies, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his gallery.

As he shows Colette a picture of himself and Y/N together, he watches with satisfaction as the color drains from her face, her eyes widening in shock and recognition.

Colette's apologies pour out in a torrent, her voice trembling as she stammers out excuses. “I-I had no idea, Monsieur Leclerc! If I had known, I would never have acted that way. Please, forgive me!”

Charles maintains a cool and collected demeanor, but his words are razor-sharp as he addresses Colette. “Your behavior reflects poorly on the brand,” he says icily, his tone dripping with disdain. “Perhaps they should consider terminating your employment for such unprofessional conduct.”

Charles's threat hangs in the air like a storm cloud, and Colette's eyes widen in alarm as she realizes the gravity of her mistake. She scrambles to salvage the situation. “Monsieur Leclerc, please, I assure you, this is not how we typically treat our customers. I'm deeply sorry for any inconvenience I've caused.”

But Charles remains unmoved, his defensive stance unwavering as he delivers his next line with a sharp edge. “I suggest you think twice before treating customers so disrespectfully in the future,” he says, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Colette can only nod, her eyes downcast in shame as she mumbles yet another apology.

Seeing the tension escalate, the store manager, who has been discreetly observing the commotion, rushes over to where they are. He offers his own profuse apologies, his tone filled with urgency. “Monsieur Leclerc, I am terribly sorry for the behavior of my staff. This is unacceptable, and I assure you, Colette will be disciplined for her actions.”

Charles raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “Disciplined, you say? Well, I suppose that's a start. But perhaps I should take my business elsewhere, like Dior or Chanel.”

The store manager's eyes widen in alarm at the suggestion of losing such a high-profile customer. “No, Monsieur Leclerc, please, we value your patronage! I assure you, this will not happen again. Please, allow us to make it right.”

Charles offers a tight-lipped smile. “I appreciate your swift action, but I do hope this serves as a lesson for your staff moving forward.”

He then gestures towards the display. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to purchase the bag my girlfriend had her eye on.”

The store manager nods hurriedly, signaling to a nearby assistant to fetch the bag. As they scurry to fulfill Charles' request, the manager returns with a bouquet of peonies wrapped elegantly.

“Please accept these peonies as a gesture of our sincere apology,” the manager says, offering the flowers to Charles. “We hope this helps to make amends for the madame.”

Charles accepts the bouquet with a nod. “Thank you,” he says, his tone clipped. “I'm sure my girlfriend will appreciate the thoughtfulness. She's far more forgiving than I am, fortunately for you.”

────────────────────────────────────

Y/N is furiously typing away on her laptop when the front door swings open. She squints at the figure entering the room, only to catches sight of her boyfriend holding something suspiciously behind his back.

“Baby, what are you up to now?” she teases, a grin spreading across her face.

He feigns innocence. “Oh, just a little surprise for my favorite woman.”

Y/N's eyes sparkle with anticipation as she eagerly stands up, her curiosity piqued. “Oh, do tell!”

In a dramatic motion, Charles presents her with the unmistakable YSL bag. Y/N's jaw practically hits the floor as she exclaims, “Oh, no, you didn't!”

Charles chuckles, unable to contain his amusement. “Oh yes, I did, chérie. And just wait until you see what's inside!”

Excitedly, Y/N opens the bag, her eyes widening in awe as she pulls out the coveted item. She tries it on with exaggerated walk, striking poses as if she's on a runaway.

Charles watches her with a mixture of adoration and amusement, his heart swelling with love for this wonderful person.

But then, amidst her excitement, Y/N's expression turns serious as she asks about the sales assistant.

Charles adopts a mock serious tone, his eyebrows shooting up in faux concern. “Well you know, she's just taking a little timeout to contemplate the error of her ways.” he replies, his gaze flickering with a hint of satisfaction.

Y/N's eyes widen in surprise, but before she can inquire further, Charles pulls her into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

“And also,” Charles adds, “they threw in some peonies.”

“Peonies? Are they trying to bribe me with flowers now?”

Charles chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, considering the ordeal you went through, I'd say they owe you a bouquet or two.”

Y/N playfully rolls her eyes. “I hope they at least remembered to include a card with a heartfelt apology from the SA.”

Charles raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “You mean the 'Sorry we were jerks, here are some flowers' card?”

They both dissolve into laughter, the absurdity of the situation not lost on them. It's moments like these that make even the most frustrating experiences worth it.

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prettyfastcars · 2 months

Text

the way you bend, the way you break - part 2 | Mob!Lando

Read part 1 here

Summary: Lando finally has all that he wanted, all that belonged to him in the first place. But there’s always room for trouble, even in paradise. And it’s up to him to fix it all and do whatever it takes to make sure that if he can’t have you then… no one can.

Themes: pregnant!reader, mob!lando, fluff, slight angst, smut, very mild gun kink, gaslighting, dark!lando, possessive!lando

a/n: come get y’all juice [throws this fic at you and runs away]

He woke up to something warm pressing into the side of his body.

Snuggled up to him, so close like you were trying to find a way to hide under his skin. He smiled when he looked down and found you asleep, wrapped in your blanket and still seeking his warmth.

He instinctively wrapped his arms around you, leaning into you as much as he could. He couldn’t exactly press his body completely against yours anymore because the bump got in the way.

It had been two months since you two had left that mansion and that little town. And your bump was properly visible now.

Speaking of the bump… He couldn’t resist shifting down to kiss it. “Morning, little one.” He whispered against it. The warmth of your skin was comforting so he nuzzled it and sighed. “Daddy can’t wait to meet you.”

Then he felt gentle fingers running through his hair. He gave your bump one last kiss before he looked up and found you smiling down at him.

“Hi,” You whispered, playing with his ridiculously soft, curly hair.

“Morning, mama.” He reached up and kissed your face until you giggled and told him to back off because his stubble hurt. “Oh it hurts?” He kissed his way down your neck, his hands roaming all over your body, caressing you through the satin PJ set you wore before he began unbuttoning the shirt and lowering the shorts.

He kissed his way down until he settled in between your legs, your body was still warm – hot rather – from being under the blanket and he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into the softness of your thighs as he parted them, bringing his mouth closer to where he desperately wanted to be.

Kissing you through the thin excuse of an underwear you had on, he asked, “Is it still hurting?” He purposely let his stubble rub against your inner thighs, making you whine and moan as you squirmed under him. “Doesn’t look like it’s hurting.” He teased.

Your fingers found their way into his hair and you tugged on it to shut him up. He smirked as he went along, letting you guide his mouth to where you wanted him. He licked, and sucked and teased until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you wide open for his mouth and preventing you from moving as he pinned your hips and legs down on the bed as he ate you out.

This. This right here was his dream. Waking up next to his woman and then rolling over to taste her like she was there only for him to taste. Lando only smiled against your wet folds the louder your moans got. These peaceful mornings were what he lived for.

But not everyday these past few months have been this peaceful. He still remembered the couple of days following the plane ride here…

When you woke up on the plane, you immediately started panicking.

“Baby, it’s okay. We’re just–,”

“You had no right.” Were the first words you said to him.

And it pissed him off. “Oh I didn’t? You’re mine, I have every right to do what I think is good for you. And our baby.”

And then you argued. Big time. You said just the right things to make him mad and he acted like the overbearing, possessive man he was. The only way to get you to listen to him was to bend you over the nearest surface, in this case the bathroom sink, and fuck some sense into you.

“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was a foggy mess as he started rocking into you, making your front bump against the counter each time he fucked into you. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.”

“I hate you so much right now…” you whispered, even as your walls clenched around him, unable to hide just how much you wanted him.

His thrusts were animalistic, and rough. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it, tipping your head back so you could see your reflections in the mirror. “I said tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded menacing as he stared deep into your eyes through the mirror.

You hated him. You hated how good he looked with that look on his face. His lips parted as his hips moved, burying his cock into you each time. You hated how good it felt to be bent over in front of him, all for him to use.

You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours,” You whispered, gritting your teeth, losing this round. But vowing to not forgive him easily.

You continued watching him through the mirror. He looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, veins on his muscular neck prominent, eyes closed, his lips parted as groans escaped his lips. With that frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you.

“You better remember that, baby.” He growled. “You are mine. I love you, and I know how to care for you. So don’t fucking tell me what to do when it comes to you and our kid. You hear me?”

You nodded despite the death stare you sent his way, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer.

And when your walls clenched violently around him.

“You’re gonna cum for me, mama? Hmm?” He cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire.

Seeing you didn’t reply, he tilted your head to the side a little. You couldn’t see his reflection anymore, not as he leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did, for a moment you forgot all about your anger.

“Come for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonisingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him as you came, hard.

He did too, right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, as your body shook against the counter. He gathered you up in his arms again, kissing you as your body shivered and trembled. “I love you. I’m doing this for us, baby.”

After you landed, he drove you to another one of his houses – though he called this one his main house – which was equally as grand as the one you used to work in. Once he showed you to your shared bedroom, you went straight for a nice, warm, long shower.

And after that, you didn’t speak to Lando for two whole weeks.

He tried everything. Sulked, apologised, begged, tried to buy you ridiculous things, begged some more. And it took two weeks of severe grovelling for you to finally accept his apology.

He was glad you didn’t stay mad for too long. Although those two weeks of silent treatment from you hurt even more than the time he’d been shot twice during a crossfire.

But he had you now, under him and squirming, moaning in pleasure just how he liked it. And this was perfect. His tongue didn’t stop teasing you until you were properly spent, grinding your hips against his mouth as you calmed down after a gentle, but intense orgasm.

He kissed along your inner thighs, which were still trembling. But then he groaned in annoyance when he looked up and couldn’t see you because of the bump. “Kid’s getting in the way already,” He murmured, kissing his way back up. “I can’t even see your face when I’m down there now.”

You giggled at the tone he used. “And whose fault is that?”

He nuzzled your neck again, kissing it as he held you against him. “I love you.” He whispered into your ear. “It’s time to get some breakfast in you, mama. Let’s go.”

You sighed in bliss, savouring one last moment in bed with him before you got out of bed and went through your morning routine while he made his way downstairs. This had become a new part of your routine now – him making breakfast each morning.

You shook your head as you showered. You couldn’t believe this was your life now. New home, new place, new doctors, new staff members who waited on you at all times during the day. You had everything one could want. People all around the house who were ready to bring you whatever you wanted. Multiple cars with chauffeurs ready to take you wherever you wanted.

Anywhere you wanted, you thought, but not to your hometown.

Lando didn’t like it when you even mentioned the little town you’d just left. It didn’t have much to offer, but it was still where you were born and raised. You didn’t miss it enough to want to go back and live there. No. But you did miss it enough to want to know how everyone was doing back home.

Your friends and family.

You’d tried bringing it up just a few weeks ago…

“Maybe I should go back once.”

“What for?” He pulled you against him, arms wrapping around you, kissing your forehead as you both stood on the balcony just outside your bedroom, watching the sun rise.

“Just to say goodbye properly. I… maybe they’d understand why–,”

His arms tightened around you before he reached up to cup your face in his large, warm hands. “They won’t.” The finality in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “If they wanted to talk to you they would’ve reached out by now, don’t you think?”

Lando knew full well that he was leaving out the part where he threatened your friends and family to never reach out to you if they wanted to keep their heads on their shoulders. He had people watching them at all times. He wasn’t taking any risks. You were his now, and no one was gonna take you away from him.

That ended that conversation. And you never brought it up again.

You did think about it even now as you got ready for the day before making your way downstairs. Maybe, you thought, you could check up on them without physically going there.

–

A couple of days later, Lando came home after a particularly annoying day and all he wanted was a soothing hug from you, a couple of kisses, and maybe you’d let him bury his face between your thighs again.

But he walked into the house and immediately, he could tell something was wrong. The guards were all in their places, armed as usual. So that calmed him down a little. Yet, a gut feeling told him something wasn’t right.

As he made his way up the stairs, he took his phone out and checked the security cameras. Everything was fine outside, the guards walked around on alert as per usual. Then he checked the cams inside his home, trying to find you. And he frowned as he saw you in the corner of his library, typing furiously on the keyboard as your eyes remained glued to the screen of his computer.

Weird. It was rather late, you should’ve been in bed. He tried zooming in to see what was displayed on the screen but he couldn’t see it. Damn. He should get new, better cameras.

But without wasting any more time, and seeking to soothe that feeling in his gut, he rushed towards the library. And his heart sank as he kept an eye on the security cam footage while he approached the library.

He watched how you visibly tensed up the moment he was sure you could hear his footsteps approaching. He watched how you clicked around in panic, typing even faster the closer he got to the library doors.

He put his phone back in his pocket the moment he pushed the doors open and stepped into the room, finding you at his desk. The screen illuminated only your face while the rest of the room remained fairly dark.

“Hi!” You said, sounding a little too cheerful. Sounding fake. Fake smile, fake happiness upon seeing him when he knew damn well you were just frowning right before he walked into the room.

He hated it. The mask you put on just to make everything seem normal. He clenched his jaw before he asked, as calmly as he could, “What are you doing? It’s late, baby. Let’s go to bed.”

“Yeah,” You gathered the blanket you had wrapped around you. “I was just looking into colour palettes. For the nursery, remember?”

He nodded slowly, watching how you didn’t move from the desk. “Right now, though? It’s the middle of the night. And why were you in the dark?” Like you were doing something you shouldn’t.

He noticed how you tensed up the moment he began walking towards you. He watched how you tried to discreetly move your hands towards the touchpad again. But he was quicker.

And it only took him a moment to lean down so he could see properly, understand, and process what you’d been doing, or what you were about to do. He looked away from the screen and looked down at you. You avoided his eyes and that only pissed him off even more.

“Care to explain this, mama?”

Something shifted then. His tone, his demeanour, his presence – all of it getting darker.

You looked away, sighing in defeat. “I just wanted to know.” There was no point in trying to hide that you’d been secretly emailing a friend of yours from back home. There weren’t too many emails exchanged, only a couple going back to a few days prior where you asked about the wellbeing of your parents and other friends.

You didn’t risk texting because… that would be too easy for him to find. You couldn’t call either, he would know because his loyal guards watched each move of yours. So emails it was. You’d delete them each time. But this time it seemed you’d been caught before you could.

“You couldn’t trust me?” He asked. Part of him was relieved that your friend had told you that all was well back there. This meant that your family was behaving like he wanted.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” He grabbed the back of the chair and slowly turned it so you’d have no choice but face him. “Why’d you go behind my back like this? And why lie to me?”

You looked up at him. Piercing eyes staring down at you as the computer screen illuminated only half of his face. His hands remained on the back of the chair so he was closer now. His scent drove you insane. Damn hormones! Lately all you ever wanted to do was be close to him. His scent… it did things to you. This was unfair.

“I just wanted to confirm that–,”

“Why not just trust me?”

You couldn’t help but say, “Trust you? After you kidnapped me and told me my family didn’t want anything to do with me? I’m supposed to just trust you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out like that but there was no going back now.

“Kidnapped?” Lando scoffed. “Bringing you home where you belong isn’t kidnapping.”

You sighed again. “I’m not saying I don’t want to be here with you, Lando. But I needed to make sure all was well at home.”

“And is it?”

You nodded sheepishly, looking up at him to find him clenching his jaw in that way that made you think of sinful things.

Thank fuck, he thought, that your friend kept her mouth shut and didn’t give you any details about just how well things were at home. How your family and friends constantly had his men around them, keeping watch and notifying him of each of their moves. At this point, Lando knew exactly how many times your family went grocery shopping or to the park. He had his people keeping eyes on them at home, at work, following their cars – there was nothing he didn’t know about.

“Am I not enough for you?” He asked, standing up straight so he could look more menacing as he stared down at you still sitting in front of him.

Only his stance just made your body throb even more. He looked godly from this angle. Like some dark, tortured, tragic hero in his all black suit which fit him like a second skin. That metal chain hanging from his neck. His pretty eyes on you. You had to take a deep breath and shoo away all the filthy images that filled your head.

You rolled your eyes at his question. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” He scoffed. “You’re reaching out to your friends, talking to people behind my back, then lying to me about it and I’m supposed to just what, do nothing?” He accused. “For now it’s emails, what if in the future some day you decide you want to leave me? Will you expect me to just stand there, not be dramatic, and do nothing?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you tried to stand up but he carefully pushed you back down on the chair. Leaning down so he was staring into your eyes, he said, “Do you want to leave me, mama? Is that what’s going on here?”

“You’re blowing this out of pro–,”

He cut you off by pulling his shiny, silver gun out and placing it gently on the desk. Right where you both could clearly see. Within arms’ length, but definitely closer to you.

His voice dropped as he leaned closer, lips bruising against your cheek as he ignored your side of the argument and said, “If you are thinking of running then you better use this and make sure I’m no longer breathing before you do.” He pulled away to look at you. The proximity, the danger in the air, the inevitable tension, it made you breathless. “Because if you run, I will chase.” He whispered, “And you won’t like what I do to you when I catch you.”

Your heart was pounding, mind racing and the filthiest of outcomes flooding your brain. Still you asked, “You think I would hurt you?”

He smirked and he’d never looked more unhinged than he did in that moment. It scared you, about just as much as it excited you. He glanced down at his gun. “Not worth living if I can’t have you anyway.” He whispered.

“Don’t say that.” You shook your head, finally reaching out to hold his face in your hands. “I need you. We need you.”

That made him look down at your bump, partially visible now since your little PJ top didn’t cover all of it. He dropped to kneel in front of you, bending to kiss the bump again like he always does.

“I’m sorry, little one,” He whispered, nuzzling the warmth of your skin. “Daddy has to be mean to mama for a bit. She’s being difficult, you see?” Then he looked up at you and said, “I don’t wanna fight.”

“Neither do I.” You stood up this time, taking a few steps just to put some distance between you and him so you could think straight and take a deep breath. “I just don’t understand why the thought of me being connected to what used to be my home bothers you so much.”

He slowly turned to the desk and grabbed his gun. None of that scared you. You were safe with him, you were certain of that. So you watched him. Watched how he slowly turned to you and said, “Because there’s the possibility of you leaving me and going back there.”

You sighed in frustration. “There’s always going to be the possibility for every single thing. That’s how life works! So what, you’ll wipe the entire town out of existence? Burn it to the ground? Turn it to nothing but ash? All so I won’t even have a home to go back to if I ever leave you?”

He gave you that same unhinged smirk from earlier. Then said, “Don’t tempt me.”

“Lando.” You warned.

“What?”

“What the fuck do you want, huh?”

He moved.

He walked towards you and for each step he took, you took one back. Until your back met with one of the book shelves and he was right in front of you. “I’m getting tired of this conversation.”

You spat back, “I’m getting tired of your face.” You lied.

He chuckled, then looked down at the bump between you two, caressing it as he said, “You hear that, little one? Mama’s being a brat.” He looked up at you and said, his voice deeper now, “But don’t you worry, daddy will deal with it.”

It all happened too quickly. Him getting your clothes off, kissing you to distract you as he walked the two of you over to the nearest couch. You bit his lower lip in annoyance till you almost drew blood, and he just chuckled before kissing you even deeper as he carefully pushed you down on the couch, hovering over you supporting himself with one hand while the other one held his gun right above your face.

“You’re being difficult again, baby.” He murmured, gently lowering his gun and brushing the barrel against your lips, then slowly dragged it down your chin. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He dragged the tip of his gun all the way down your trembling, naked body, down your thighs and back up till he pressed it against your wet folds. He chuckled when he saw you grinding against it. “Does it feel good? Hmm?” He asked. “Does it make you feel all powerful knowing you piss me off more than anyone ever dares to and can get away with it? All because I love you too much to actually punish you? Does it, baby?”

You frowned at him, still annoyed. “Shut the fuck up.” You didn’t stop grinding against the cold gun. You whined when he pulled it away from your skin and tossed it to the side.

He had a mean smirk on his face, calm despite everything. You studied his handsome face for a moment. Your emotions were shifting from guilt to annoyance to lust, and your heart fluttered when he whispered, “Spread those legs for me. Show me what’s mine.”

The crude casualness of his words would’ve surely made you blush if you weren’t dripping wet and burning with desire. And regardless of how pompous you thought he was, how authoritative and overbearing – and no matter how annoyed you were – you did just as he asked.

You held his stare as you spread your legs so he could settle in between them. Lando eyed you with a mischievous smirk. “There’s my good girl. Now hold yourself open for me.” He said, then lowered his mouth, watching as you carefully spread your folds open for him. “Fuck…” He murmured as he kissed your knuckles.

You couldn’t see his face – because of the bump – but his warm breath against your fingers, your wet skin, the soft touch of his fingers as he spread your wetness around, followed by his tongue, all of it had you moaning as you arched your back, leaning into his mouth even more.

You could see his hips moving while he ate you out, grinding into the couch and for some reason that made you whine even louder. “Lando …” you whimpered.

He smirked against your inner thighs. “Don’t you dare come just yet.”

You whined, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. Lando smirked when he craned his neck and saw how you were struggling to keep quiet. He knew just how sensitive your body had become these days, how badly you craved his touch at all times. And right now, he noticed the way your body squirmed under him, and he knew you too well so he could tell that you were so close to coming.

“Baby… please,” You whined, releasing your swollen lip from your teeth. Your body felt hot, and you needed to just let go and come.

“Please what?” He taunted, shamelessly ignoring your pleas. “Is it frustrating? Wanting something so badly and having someone else just threatening to take it away? Hmm?” He slid his tongue up and down your slit, careful not to make you come and enjoying the way you growled through gritted teeth. “This is how it feels, baby. Everytime you argue and bring up that little town. The thought of you leaving me here and returning there…” He playfully bit your inner thigh. “This is exactly how it feels. Like I’m a fucking madman ready to do whatever it takes just to have what I want. Which is you next to me. Always.”

You let out a loud moan as he kissed your throbbing clit ever so gently. “I’m sorry,” You caught yourself whispering. “I’ll… I’ll let it go. I promise. There’s nowhere else I would rather be.” You lifted yourself up on one elbow and looked down at him. He looked up at you, with his lips more pink and fuller than usual. “I want to be here, right next to you. Always.” You promised.

He seemed proud of that. Nodding gently, he said, “See how easy that was, mama?” He kissed his way up your inner thighs again, “I love you.” He murmured, looking deep into your eyes as if daring you to not say it back.

You couldn’t resist him. “And I love you.” You melted right under his touch as his tongue gently licked down your folds.

His hand found yours and he laced his fingers with yours while his other hand rubbed up and down your thigh as he pushed his face further into your wet core, making you whimper in pleasure. Your legs had begun shaking just a little as he took his time and dragged his tongue up and down your slit, teasing your sensitive spots with his warm and wet tongue.

“Please…” You moaned pathetically.

Then heard his merciless chuckle as he pulled away, kissing his way up your body again. He leaned in to kiss your open mouth eventually, making you gasp and moan. He quickly placed his fingers where his mouth had been earlier, teasing your clit before shoving two fingers inside of you and stroking your walls so slowly that you were well past caring if the guards could hear you moaning.

He pulled away just for a moment, to quickly take his suit jacket off, then his shirt. He tossed both somewhere on the floor and bent down to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, leisurely taking his time as he unzipped his pants.

“Please,” You whined, sliding your fingers into his soft hair. “I need you. Now.” You spoke through gritted teeth by the end, tugging at the roots of his curly hair.

“So needy.” He murmured, loving it actually. It made his ego inflate knowing his woman needed him so badly. “I’m here, baby. “I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered as he lowered his underwear just enough to free his cock. He was rock hard this whole time. It was a fucking miracle he was able to even wait this long.

With a slow, steady push, he slid his cock into you. You shuddered, moaning as you felt all of him filling you up. Lando held back his moans and growls as he felt your warmth wrap around him so perfectly. He clenched his jaw as he relished the feeling of being inside of you, finally.

“This what you needed, mama?” he asked, looking down at you, and gently grabbing your face, making you look up at him.

You just stared at him with parted lips, breathing heavily. Lando smirked, pulling out just a little before pushing back into you again. You closed your eyes and moaned, arching your back, your bare chest pressing against his.

Lando leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth while he began moving in and out of you. You whined senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you.

He leaned down to push his face into your neck as he lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you. “Fuck…you’re mine, you hear me?”

You nodded.

“Only mine…” Lando quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before. “My woman,” He spoke, his voice thick and deep with lust. “Mine.” He stared down at you with a handsome and arrogant smirk on his face. “Say it.”

“I’m yours.” You repeated, eyes getting droopy with desire.

Lando caressed your cheek with his knuckles, his other hand holding him up above you. He looked down at you with nothing but love and fierce adoration in his eyes. “Come for me.”

You let the pressure build inside you, before simply letting go. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, Lando kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even as you came.

You felt your second release approaching even before you could recover from the first one.

You felt your mind getting foggy again. His lean body hovering above you as he fucked deeper into you, as much as he could while still being careful not to hurt you – it was a new fear of his, that he would somehow hurt you during sex. “Come for me again, baby.” He growled, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him.

Your body trembled as you came for the second time, walls tightening around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you until he came as well. “Fuck, baby…” His voice cracked in a way that had you clenching even harder around him.

You were gasping for breath after that, and Lando twisted you both on your sides so you could rest for a while. He knew all too well that you had the habit of drifting off into deep sleep right after some good sex.

Kissing your forehead, he murmured, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ll get us in bed in a while, okay?”

You nodded, burrowing deeper into his warm, muscular chest as you let yourself pass out in bliss.

—

You began snoring softly in no time, so he was in no rush to get you to move. He grabbed the blanket from before and made sure you were nice and warm before he carefully slid from under you and retrieved his phone from his trousers on the floor.

Letting the back of his hand gently caress your cheek, and bending down to kiss your bump one last time, Lando moved away from the couch and went towards the desk. Sitting down on the chair, he made a phone call while he kept an eye on what the screen displayed.

Those damned emails.

He smirked when he heard the person on the other end answer. He wasn’t calling to have a full conversation – not with you sleeping just a few feet away.

“You know what to do.” He ordered over the phone. Then ended the call once the person on the other side confirmed that they indeed knew what he was talking about.

He tossed his phone aside then closed the tabs on his computer. Deleting the emails before he did so. He scoffed, thinking about that damn little town which was being a pain – but not for long.

He walked back to where you were sleeping. Kneeling beside the couch, he couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss your cheek. “My baby,” He murmured, letting his lips brush against your skin for a while longer. “I love you so much.” He couldn’t get enough of you. “I’m doing this for us.” He smiled, “You’ll understand one day. I’m just making sure that if ever I can’t have you, then no one can.”

—

a/n: hi!! I won’t be writing any more parts for this story. I’ve been loving fics with open endings lately so yeahhhh (there will be more mob fics tho don’t worry <3)

#lando norris #mob!lando #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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a-hazbin-reader · 4 months

Note

Can I please request a Vox x Female Childish Reader just like the meme that goes...

Random Imp: Hey! Some dude is jumping going off to the bungee swing backwards!

Vox who was currently talking to the other 2 V's: Hah, What an idiot

Female Reader: I'M GOING OFF THE BUNGEE SWING BACKWARDS!!!

Vox: Oh no...THAT'S MY IDIOT!!!

I'm up for any ask that gives Vox a headache

Vox X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think?? Cartoonish scenarios??

Description: ☝️⬆️

You are so goofy and childish and it's one of the reasons Vox actually fell in love with you

It's so refreshing to have someone who's always looking for fun things to do in Hell instead of being miserable or scared

When he first met you, he assumed you were just stupid, watching you run from a group of hungry cannibals while calling it tag

Almost considered leaving you to your fate but something about the way you squealed in excitement as they caught up to you made his heart flip

So he reluctantly saves you and you've become a thorn in his side ever since

A thorn that he's come to love and look forward to seeing every day, often wishing he could just blow off work to spend time with you

Literally does everything you want to do, even at the price of his own pride, that's how whipped Vox is for you

You wanna play the floor is lava?? He's jumping on the nearest piece of furniture and trying to knock you off your perch

You're playing hide and seek?? Fine! Vox is roping in the other V's and he's literally tearing apart everything to find your ass

How tf did you get INSIDE the couch!?!?!

He's in a meeting with the other overlords and you suddenly start a game of Duck Duck Goose, picking him as the goose???

You bet your ass Vox is chasing after you like you owe him money, the others just watching in bewilderment

You start a pillow fight?? He's going to start a pillow WAR

He wants to fucking WIN

Literally adores your childish nature but won't admit it to anyone, no matter how obvious it is

On the other hand...

You fucking stress him out sometimes, getting yourself into the strangest situations

Vox once caught you playing hopscotch with Alastor, winner gets to keep your soul

WHY DID YOU AGREE TO THAT

Relax Voxie~ I won anyways~

You get yourself into a game of musical chairs with a humongous dinosaur demon??

Vox is still having nightmares of you being squashed by that gigantic ass 😒

One of the worst things you've ever done to him is video call him while you're about to do a bungee jump

He was stuck discussing business with the other V's when you suddenly appear on his phone, immediately cheering him up

What could his cute Y/N want now~?

"Hey Voxie~! I'm about to jump off this bridge and do a flip! I want you to watch me!!"

"You're gonna WHAT!?"

Nearly short circuits right then and there, his screen glitching out from the sudden wave of stress

He zaps your way the moment he sees that you're jumping, grabbing the bungee rope and pulling you up with his own two hands

Vox ignores all your whining and pouting over him spoiling your fun, pulling you into his arms and shaking from the adrenaline rush

You are just so confused, you were only having fun...it's his fault for being so busy all the time that you get bored

He's still trying to get his breathing back to normal when he suddenly touches foreheads with you

He squishes your cheeks together and gives you a tired look

"You...are not leaving our bedroom for the rest of the week..."

"Voxie!! That's no fair!!"

I hope this is what you wanted!! I had so much fun writing it!

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin vox

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 4 months

Text

← Smutlet Masterlist

18+ Panty Dropping

Stark parties were always extravagant affairs. Black ties and cocktail dresses. Everyone was decked out to the nines. Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off your sultry dress. The way it clung to your curves, accentuating every dip and swell. The shiny red material sparkled as you moved, swinging your hips to the beat of the tune that was playing. You had begged him to join you, fingers hooked into his belt loops as you urged him forwards. But Bucky was a soldier, trained to resist temptation. So, with determination, you stepped onto the dance floor, a solitary figure bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights.

“You go ahead, I'll watch.”

Bucky’s gaze traced the delicate line of your collarbones, the gentle curve of your waist. The crimson hue of the dress set his loins on fire, igniting a longing he hadn’t felt in years. It wasn’t just the color, it was the way it whispered secrets against your skin. You were a vision. And oh, how you moved. Fluid, like water coursing through a hidden stream. As the music swirled around you, you moved with grace, lost in the rhythm. The halter neck of the dress revealed just enough - the elegant slope of your shoulders, the arch of your back, the skin of your thighs.

Bucky clenched his fists, torn between the desire to join you versus the desire to carry you out of the building over his shoulder. He shoved his hands in his pockets, to hide his agitation. The last thing he needed was for Steve or Sam to come over and fuss over him. But the action didn’t bring about the result he expected. There was something unexpected as he slipped his hand into the concealed compartment of his pants. Bucky’s fingers closed around the silky material and he pulled out a lacy black thong.

He stroked his thumb over the skimpy piece of lingerie, noting that it felt slightly damp. In a swift movement, he closed the item into his fist and brought it up to his nose, taking a whiff of your unique scent. Bucky felt a heat rise inside him and he felt his cock twitch dangerously. How dare you tease him?

You could feel his eyes on you. Almost like a sixth sense. You knew he had discovered the little gift you had left him. He beckoned you with the smallest gesture. You smiled, sauntering over.

“What do you think you're doing? Anyone could have seen this! What do you have to say for yourself?”

Bucky hissed in your ear, your underwear now in his metal fist. Never had he met another person who knew how to push his buttons. Your pokes and prods were so aptly timed and precisely calculated. When he was feeling sad, mad, excited or turned on. It was you - you held all the answers he had been seeking. The warmth of companionship, the thrill of surrender to his carnal urges. Wherever you led, he would follow.

“Where you going, Doll? Do you have any idea what you do to me? Dressed in this scrap of a dress? Is this turning you on? Teasing me with this? Getting me hard? Denying me the pleasure of ripping these off your pretty little pussy?”

A plant. Multiple large pots filled with bamboo shoots. Dense enough to hide two people. That is where he found himself. His hands all over you, on your waist, behind your neck, under the hem of your short skirt, between your soaked and uncovered folds. The candles that adorned the walls flickered and threatened to reveal your hideaway.

“Your cunt feels so good. Dripping for me already, Doll? And I haven't even let you get a taste of my cock yet. Want me to rub your clit, darling?”

Your whines were getting louder and louder. They had the potential to attract attention, despite the thumping music. Bucky spun you around, clamping a vibranium hand over your sinful mouth, keeping his flesh one nestled comfortably over your sensitive nub.

“My my, such a needy little thing, aren't we? Trying to get me all worked up by leaving your panties in my pocket? Well, darling, it worked. I'm going to fuck you right here, behind this plant. And unless you want to get caught, you're going to take it without making a sound. Got that, Doll?”

Bucky unzipped his pants. The fear of being seen suppressed by the flame of desire that engulfed him. He didn't hesitate in thrusting into you, reveling in the way your walls hugged him in the perfect way. He could hear his name tumbling from your lips, the sound vibrating through the metal. It didn't take long for him to spill his hot seed into your clenching cunt, as it begged for its own release. Bucky pulled out his cock as soon as he was done, pressing your thighs together as you moaned with frustration at being denied your climax.

“Now, now, darling. What did I say about making noise, huh? You don't get to cum until I say you do. Getting me all good and riled up at this stupid party. You'll have to suffer the consequences.”

You held out your hand for him to return your panties. But instead you were met with a devilish grin as Bucky stuffed them back into his pocket.

“No, Doll. These are mine. You’re coming home with me and I had better not see any mess spilling down your legs, or you'll be sorry you ever gave me these.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction

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traveler-at-heart · 5 months

Text

Love Language

Summary: Natasha and you share a secret language. Just a short drabble!

Russian, English, Chinese, French, German are some of the languages listed on Natasha’s file.

But there was another one, hidden in plain sight, that apparently only you could understand.

It was the little things, the silences, the requests that weren’t verbalized. Only statements about her day, or apparent offerings that hid a need of her own.

Like certain mornings, when you greeted her in the kitchen and asked if she had breakfast yet.

“I’m not hungry”

“That won’t do” you’d answer like clockwork, reciting all the things you could do that you knew she liked. Omelette, sandwich, pancakes.

“Pancakes are fine” she’d shrug her shoulders, but would leave the plate clean. Then, she’d approach you as you did the dishes and muttered a quiet thank you.

An invitation to play games (anything, from chess to cards or Mario Kart) would be followed by a suggestion that since she’d won, the least Natasha could do was take you to dinner.

So you spent the night in one of the restaurants you both liked. Picking a place was easy; you listed the places and Natasha would interrupt you when you got to the one she wanted.

“That one was nice last time”

There are times when you’d sit in the dinning table, while she reads the paper. The entertainment section is conveniently on your side, and you grab it to read the titles of the movies showing in the old cinema downtown.

“Haven’t seen that one yet” she’d comment after you get to the right one.

Movie nights were your thing, and you always paid for the tickets and anything she wanted from the candy store.

“The movie was good” she’d say. “I’ll pick next time”

As if it hadn’t been her choice in the first place.

“Sure, Nat” you always answered, amused.

Back from missions, she always sat next to you on the Quinjet, asking if you could check for injuries she might have missed.

“Now you” she’d say. It was her way of checking that you were ok, without having to seem too concerned. You smiled as she grumbled, displeased when she saw a little bruise or open skin, her hands lingering as she cleaned the wounds.

To anyone else, it may seem frustrating. To you, it was beautiful to experience Natasha’s love language. Asking for help, seeking your company, were signs that she could and wanted to be vulnerable. To you, it was a privilege.

You could have done it forever, in all honesty.

Until one night, when a mission went sideways. Everyone was shooting, blowing up walls and trying to stay alive.

You ran from one room to the next, looking for Pietro as his comms weren’t working.

“Hey, wrap this up, kiddo” you screamed, shooting at the people trying to shoot him.

“Almost done” he grunted. He was slower, and you figured it might have something to do with the wound on his abdomen.

“Come on” you said, taking out the last guard that was behind his back.

No one was watching your back, though. You felt the pain in your chest and leg, falling in the middle of rubble and bodies.

Your eyes remained unfocused, barely listening to the commotion around you. Green eyes, filled with tears brought you back to reality.

“Stay with me” Natasha asked.

For the first time, she asked.

You’d feel overjoyed if it weren’t for the two bullet holes in your body.

She didn’t hide how terrified she was, of the blood flowing and the life leaving your eyes.

“Please don’t leave me” she asked again, and you nodded.

You kept your promise until the Quinjet landed, and everything went dark.

—

“I’m being such a pain in the ass” you say every time you ask for something.

Recovery’s been slow, but you won’t complain because Natasha’s by your side all the time.

“Ask for anything you need”

“How about a kiss?”

And then, she’ll roll her eyes, but lean forward, happy to feel your lips against hers.

Neither needs to ask, nor tell, but you know you love Natasha, and she loves you.

It’s in everything you do for each other.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n

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loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 7)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 6, Part 8

summary: You spend some time with Miguel.

warnings: smut. f receiving oral, fingering, grinding, switchy behaviour from both sides, angst. 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: this chapter beat my ass icl

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.3k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

all-consuming grief,

It’s going to be a warm night. It's ushered in by the kind of dawn that bleeds red and gold, tawny and autumnal in the waning light. Like the washy colours of a Renoir, and he doesn’t even notice that he’s doing the thing he swore black-and-blue he wouldn’t. Reminiscing and romanticising; for the first time in a while, Miguel is able to see the sun set, legs splayed on the brick of his front steps.

Sitting by worn metal railing, he’s still in his work clothes. He chucked his rucksack on the step above, leaning long legs onto the ones below. They don’t ache as much as they used to, well-trained by a couple months of running and spending more time in the gym. There’s a shake in the fridge, labelled ‘Tuesday, PM’ that he’ll gulp down before bed, and one labelled ‘Wednesday, AM’ that he’ll take before setting off in the morning. In the morning, with cloudy skies and street cars to keep him company. There’s too much pollution, light or otherwise, for him to see some stars. He hasn’t seen stars in a while, now.

Long days seem to have turned into just days somewhere along the way. He can’t quite pinpoint when, and doesn’t really care to, but he thinks his brother would call it “progress”. There’s a grimace on his face as he thinks about it; a word that tastes like mud and feels like swirling cement in his mouth. It’s all bullshit, really. Gabi’s paltry attempt at therapising him, one which he would usually nip in the bud - taking metaphorical shears to slash at weeds and dense conversation. Catch-up calls about how he feels, how he’s doing – when he’s fine, he always is – as if Gabi is waiting for a shoe to drop.

He’s waiting for Miguel to have an epiphany, a breakdown the size of a collapsing star. It’s not coming, he keeps telling his brother, and the sooner the younger O’Hara realises – without the wide eyes and the pity – the better for the both of them. After all, Gabriel is his baby brother, and he’s spent his whole life worrying on his behalf: playing hide-and-seek in little closets and putting back together broken toys. Trying to drown out the sound of shouting and broken plates. They’re too old for all that, the worrying and gulping back tears, walking its well-travelled paths – and it doesn’t feel right that Gabi should do the same for him.

He sighs, deep and heavy and rolling down that quiet street. After what feels like forever, he’s tempted to lie down, to rest his head on the stone, close his eyes and think of something else. Of someone else - lots of someones, at this point in the day. He’s not the weepy type, but he is tired; shaking off the wear and tear, and fighting off sleep.

Then he sees it; a figure walking towards him, all sandals and khaki shorts and smiles. Mr Estevez, donned in his year-round attire of a polo shirt, a little tight around the middle, and cargos cut off below the knee – finally appropriate, considering the weather. He’s strolling closer like he’s got all the time in the world. If Miguel wasn’t so exhausted; the bone-deep kind, the kind that seeps into skin and lines a casket; he would’ve been annoyed. Instead, he hisses, furrows quickly deepening.

“Buenas, Miguelito!” Mr Estevez beams, scratching at scraggly facial hair.

Miguel frowns, but greets him nonetheless: that politeness drilled into him during childhood rearing its head.

“Buenas tardes, tío.” He grits his teeth as he gets up from his seat, creaky joints and all.

His landlord, the building’s handyman, owner of half a dozen shops all over the city, and Miguel’s uncle-that’s-not-really-his-uncle; Mr Estevez wears many hats, staying bright and informal regardless. He’s known the older man since he was 6, so he can’t be too disappointed; his tío has been late for weddings, funerals, and his little boy’s birth – it’s not much of a surprise that he’d be late now, too. Miguel stretches out a rough palm, and the man stops just shy of his hand, completely ignoring it. Before he knows it, Miguelito is engulfed in a great big bear hug, with wet kisses pressed to the apples of his cheeks. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, as usual, so they hang limply; arms flailing to his sides like a t-rex.

They separate, and he coughs at the great big hand that slaps his back. Grumbling, he walks up to the door, bag over his back, and stands expectantly. Mr Estevez doesn’t follow, instead dusting himself down to sit on the steps.

“I just need to get into the building.” Miguel starts. “Forgot my keys, and I've been here for hours. M’tired, and I–”

“Let’s sit, Miguel.” He scoots over, making space. “Look at the stars.”

It’s clear the older man isn’t moving. Begrudgingly, he obliges. “We’re in the middle of the city. You only see “stars” in the river – beer bottles and tinned crap reflecting the lights.”

“Language.” He gets a sharp nudge to his ribs.

“Discúlpame, tío.”

They stew for a moment, bathing in the silence that follows. The man besides him is the first to speak.

“I spoke to your mother.”

He’s scoffing and moving to get up, before feeling a firm hand on his shoulder.

“She’s worried, Miguel. Says you haven’t called in a while.”

“She hasn’t called me either."

“She’s stubborn.” The man besides him chuckles, bringing gentle eyes to meet his own. "Pig-headed. Remind you of someone?"

Miguel rolls his eyes, he just can't help it.

"She’s also the one that moved back home, so either way–”

"You know it's all been hard on her."

" –on her? It's been hard for her, surrounded by family, after she abandoned me? A-After…" His voice gets dangerously hoarse, threatening to crack under the weight of those words.

He can't stand the pitiful look sent his way: brows drawn, lips pressed into a thin line.

"Sorry. It's… It's nothing. I'm fine. Just fine."

"I didn't ask if you were fine, Miguel."

–even though you're definitely not okay. That part is left unsaid, spat onto the pavement like bitter backwash.

Mr Estévez sighs, ruffling a hand through Miguel's hair. It makes him hiss and dart away from the hand, pouting like he's a little kid again. He doesn't like it; the way he feels like all this life he's lived has been for naught. Trials and tribulations, and yet he doesn't feel that ache of growth; still stuck in the shoes of an awkward teenager.

"You think too much, Miguelito. Always have." He smiles, the kind that deepens the wrinkles around his mouth. It twists Miguel into knots, mouth dry as he tries to untangle himself from that feeling. "I'm worried about you, kid."

He sniffs, eyes trained towards the pavement. There it is again, worry; complicating and unravelling what was meant to be just another day.

"It's today, isn't it?"

All Miguel does is nod, shakily. It's been 2 years since his heart was ripped out of his chest. It heaves now, an erratic rise and fall he’s doing his best to control. Breathe, deeply and calmly; try not to think about his little girl in that hospital bed, and those blank eyes staring back.

“M’fine.” It comes out more desperate than he intends it, and he curses under his breath. If Mr Estevez hears the crude language, he doesn’t react.

Miguel is tense, hunched over the bag on his lap and curled into himself like prey – spitting and prickly and clearly uncomfortable. He’s never been the weepy kind, but the older man can’t help but think it’s a shame; so much love, and nowhere to keep it but inside. Miguel's bottled it up; the memories of precious Gabriella, all that warmth she brought out in her father; and he's turned them to poison pills to keep himself sick.

Miguel would never admit it, of course. He’s too stubborn. Pig-headed.

His tío sighs, moving to get up. He groans, in that dramatic sort of way he knows Miguel can’t stand, but still, there's a rush to help him up. Producing the door keys with a flourish, he pulls from the depths of cargo pockets, and unlocks the main door. Ushering in the younger man, who has grown so tall he needs to duck as he climbs the narrow stairs, there’s a finger prodded into the back of that cotton button-up.

“Miguel?” He starts, revving up a conversation he’s been meaning to have for a while now.

“Hmm?”

They both wait by the entrance of the apartment. The keys jingle in Mr Estevez’s hand.

“If I open the door, will I find out that you’ve driven away another one of my tenants?”

Conveniently, there seems to be a rather interesting spot in the hardwood that Miguel pokes with a dress shoe.

“...depends on your definition of 'driven out', tío.”

“That’s the third one this year! Not even 2 months– I knew there was something up. Not a single one of those little smiley faces to my messages, and–"

“I’ll make up for his side of the rent, you know I will.”

“I don’t like it. You should be saving up, to go get a house and settle down somewhere."

“I like living here, and I’ve said multiple times I’d pay the extra to live alone–”

“And then what? You rot in your room for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t– rot feels a little–”

“Nonsense. You’re lonely, Miguelito. If you don’t like it, you move out.”

They both know he won’t. It’s not really an option; the apartment is affordable and he likes living so close to his old neighbourhood, his old haunts. It’s like he’s tethered to that place with a bungee cord wrapped under his ribs, always snapping back.

“No promises, tío.”

“Doesn’t matter, Miguelito.” He sighs, scratching at stubble. “It’s been hard to find other tenants, with half the neighbourhood drying up. But as soon as I do–”

He points an accusatory finger at Miguel, and the sentence is finished for him.

“...best behaviour, I know.”

“Best behaviour.” Mr Estevez repeats, and starts to fumble with the keys. He throws a little comment over his shoulder. “I liked your lady friend, ages ago… the scary one, with the blue hair. She was–”

“Xina’s not scary, when you get to know her.”

“She was funny. Very pretty. Always paid rent on time, gave me food when I came to fix the heating…”

“It's out again, by the way.” Miguel chews his lip, with a strange expression. “And yeah, she was.”

The door swings open. Mr Estevez doesn’t let him off the hook, though, engulfing him in a warm hug. This time, in the doorway of his apartment, eyes screwed shut; he doesn’t try to wriggle out of it, melting into his tío’s arms. It feels different now that he’s not a kid: angry and hurting with a different sort of ache, but he leans into it, all the same.

~~~

There's a pressure released from the apartment, lately. Miguel feels… well, first of all, he feels ; thinks with his heart and not his head, sometimes. It's lighter, coming home with that weight on his shoulders and with someone there to distract him from it. Living life, he thinks, for the first time in a while. Vivid and vibrant and awake ; relishing the autumnal weather. It's always been his favourite season, despite how childish he thinks having a favourite season is; something you had asked him on a whim one morning.

Normally, he wouldn't entertain it, and with all the shit Pete spews, sometimes, he's had plenty of practice ignoring it. A well-timed dirty look, and then he'd get his head down and work; occupy himself with something less frivolous. But when you say it, with half a piece of toast sticking out of your mouth, it doesn't feel like a chore to answer. It doesn't feel like a stupid question, and he finds his face growing warm at the thought of you caring about these little things – wanting to know him , however that comes.

And so, his answer is Autumn. It's a little stilted; but catching him off guard after a run will do that to him. It's purely practical , he says, eyes tracing the slopes of your body in that shirt and shorts that stops at your thighs; high enough that he feels like a perv for looking. Autumn has temperate, even weather. Perfect for sweaters and hoodies. Warm enough that you don't need a jacket. Just right. You snort, nudging him. Bullshit, Mig. You flutter your eyelashes mockingly, your tone light. You just think it's the prettiest.

And he hums, catching you off guard. You're both drawn towards that little window over the sink, the one that overlooks a fire escape and the street. He's had that view for three years, now. Sleeves always rolled to his elbows as he does his washing up, but never quite looking. The street just below is framed in its windowpane, quite the pretty picture. Crisp leaves scattered on the sidewalk, carpeted in red and honeyed amber. And he can feel it from the other side of the glass; smell it, touch it, taste it. Autumn: hot chocolate and giggles, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and cupping tiny palms to warm them up. Sunsets seen for the first time, watched through bus windows on the way back from school – he misses those the most.

"You don't think it's beautiful?" You say, leaning your head towards the half-open window.

You don't notice, but he looks over to you, swallowing roughly. He says it with a small voice.

"I…I do."

You're darting to the bathroom not too long after, breaking the spell. Frustrated, he resists the urge to curl up into a ball and scream into his palms. He's got what he wanted; a good fuck, a pretty face, a warm smile. Friends, at the most, who happen to get the other off after a long day. A welcome distraction, at the least. He's got what his body has been telling him he needs for the past few months. It makes him feel weird, so oddly settled; but, all things considered…

Miguel is doing okay.

“...and I wouldn’t normally ask, but I swear , I left him…o-on read and he won’t stop texting me.”

Really, actually; he’s doing fine.

“It feels weird– mmffuck– but I can’t ignore him any longer.”

Maybe even… good. Better than okay.

“I still have a bunch of my stuff over there. At least half of it is clothes and books, a-and I’ve put it off for as long as I can…”

He hums in response, pulling quiet curses from you, above. Pressing the flat of his tongue onto your clit, your hips jump up and he purrs ; rearing up to dive even deeper into your pussy. Too quick for him, you catch on, hand in his hair to pull him up.

Sitting up on your haunches, he rests his head on your bare thigh – licking the taste of you off of his lips.

You tilt your head, looking at him with those eyes he can’t help but marvel at. A beat passes.

“...so?” You start, expectantly. “Will you help me or not?”

His response comes in the form of teeth nipping at pillowy skin. You yelp, and swat him away whilst he chuckles.

“I’m serious , Mig. It’s too much to pick up by myself. And you’re the only person I know with a car…”

“ Ouch, hermosa. ” He frowns as you peter off. “Is that the only reason you’re fucking me? For my car?”

“If I say it’s because of your sparkling personality, will you help me?”

For a moment, it seems like he’s got his brows pressed together like he’s seriously considering it, but it ends up being just smoke and mirrors. He’s pretending , biding his time to hook a hand under your legs and force you to lie down onto the bed. Your head hits the covers with a gentle thump as he hikes up the lip of that big tee even further; squeezing your thighs around his head like earmuffs.

It’s when he makes eye-contact, tongue circling your hole, that you realised you’re fucked. Up until now, he’s been toying with you – playing with his food, so to speak – lazily swirling his tongue around your clit and pressing buttons to see exactly where to push. And you'd welcomed it, a hand in his hair as you talked about your day – which he'd asked for, of course.

Now, he's insatiable, eating you out like a man starved; all tongue and wet kisses to your swollen bud. You're slightly raised up on his shoulders, clamping around his tongue as he fucks into you fervently. Big palms spread you wider, and he hums into it, content.

"So pretty ," He sets you down, pupils blown as he studies the way your back arches and the way your legs shudder in the sheets. He slides upwards, sitting next to you, tracing a hand across the gentle curve of stomach that peeks out from your big t-shirt.

Still coming down from your high, you're only just able to register it: he looks mesmerised, a dopey smile plastered on his face.

"What?" You scoff when a moment passes, and his hand inches closer towards your lower lips.

"M'just looking." He shrugs, with a little smile on his face. "I'm not allowed to look?"

You scoff, but you're still shaky so it comes out a little more pathetic than you intend. Nevertheless, you start to sit up but he stops you with a gentle hand at your chest.

"Call him." He says, pressing two fingers to your clit and then down to your gushing slit.

Maybe it's the way he hunches over you, eyes flicking towards your lips, or the way he slips those fingers in; but your eyes go wide, and you're choking on your next words.

"Call… Call who?" Playing dumb, dancing on a razor's edge, and Miguel only quirks up an eyebrow at the stupid question.

"You know who." He says it low, smooth and dulcet as he curls his fingers at that sweet spot, experimenting. "I'll help you, fine. But I want you to call your ex, too. Let him know when to expect us. Is that okay, sweetheart ?"

That last word comes with a twang, the lilting tone of what sounds like mockery. He twists the knife, nudging the flat of his palm onto your clit – still tender and throbbing from your last orgasm.

Before you change your mind, you pick up the phone laid face down on the bedside table, pressing shaky fingers to its screen. You don't dare to look up, knowing Miguel is watching; dark eyes studying your every move.

Flicking his wrist this way and that, he swallows roughly as your fingers stutter on the screen. Not completely satisfied, he still has the time to look smug, settling into a comfortable pace. Finally, your phone rings with a tell-tale dial tone. It rings once. It rings twice, and–

"Hello? " The voice is muffled as it says your name. Put it on speaker, Miguel mouths and you oblige.

"Hey, J-Jamie." The phone is shaky in your hands, so you lay it out next to you on the bed.

"It's late, baby." You don't have time to be annoyed at his tone – or the unwarranted pet name – because Miguel speeds up, pumping in and out of you with a little more force.

"I… I know. S-Sorry." You clamp down the moans that threaten to erupt, rocking your hips in time with the thrusts.

Head lolling back into the sheets, you spend a good ten seconds in oblivious bliss, until Jamie breaks the silence.

"You've been ignoring me for ages, baby… and then you call out of the blue. What is it?" He's tired, it sounds like. Irritated for sure.

"Just w-wanted to–" Miguel presses his thumb to your clit and you jump. Once back down to earth he has to prompt you to answer. "-my stuff! Fuck , I just want to pick up my stuff."

"...now?"

Tomorrow. Miguel mouths.

"Tomorrow. " You repeat, wrapping a hand around his forearm to slow him down. It's too much, too fast; and he has the audacity to add another finger, scissoring out to stretch your cunt.

"O-kay. " He clicks his tongue, with some things rustling in the background. "Okay. You're acting weird, but..."

You're conflicted. His tone makes you melt, reaching for your phone to answer when Miguel snakes a hand under your shirt, palming your tits. To your surprise, he presses shaky kisses to the skin, rolling around your nipple with the flat of his tongue. You keen, clamping a hand around your mouth to stop the noises that spill out.

"...we still need to talk about what happened. About how we left things."

Anger flares up at your chest; hot at the sheer gall. He wants to talk? Now, when you had been met with a brick wall of silence; begging and begging for even a simple explanation?

What made it sting even more was that even after the breakup, everything happened on Jamie's terms. He broke up with you, providing little warning. He completely ghosted you, refusing to answer countless calls and messages. And now, he wants to talk; to make himself feel better and wank off his own ego, no doubt. It's not bitterness that makes you press Miguel closer, to revel in the pleasure that he gives you, you convince yourself. It's for you ; finally, unabashedly, just for you.

You don't bother to answer, hanging up the call with a click. Tugging at his hair, you pull him off with a wet pop; slick-soaked fingers slipping out of your cunt.

He cradles your chin, angling you upwards.

"You okay? Too much?" It barely registers; you're too focused on the tangle of curls framing his face, and the rosy pout of messy lips.

You shake your head, writhing against the sheets.

"More." You move his hand over to rest between your legs. "Please, Miguel."

His eyes flutter, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

He says it with sobering clarity, bolstered by just how precisely he slots against your bare pussy. You can feel it, the full length of his cock; pressed up against you as he slips it out of his sweats. Head spinning, it slaps onto your stomach. Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets. Oh fuck. He's big.

"Just like that." He coos, spitting into his palm and pumping his cock. “Wanna see how pretty you look when I make you cum.”

~~~

When tomorrow comes, you’re still sore from the litany of bruises and hickeys littered. It’s a Saturday, and you’re up bright and early. Well, Miguel is up bright and early, clattering around in the kitchen as you wake up.

He seems energised, mug of coffee in hand whilst you rub the sleep from your eyes. You waltz into the kitchen through the open doorway, morning breath and all.

"Morning," You say, soft and giggly at the way he jumps ten feet in the air, too wrapped up in himself to notice at first.

"Morning." He breathes, melting when he sees you in the shirt he had picked out for you last night. He shakes himself out of it. "Hungry? I can make something."

"No, no. M'good." You sidle up to the counter, head clocked at the fancy machine on the heavy slab. There's a question on the tip of your tongue, one you roll between your teeth. "Could I have some coffee? I mean… could you show me how?"

Where you expect laughter, mockery, or surprise that you've lived here for months and can't figure out the coffee machine; he nods, patient and calm. You ask him more questions; curious with every flick of a switch, and the way he lights up when talking about it. To your surprise, you want to know more – anyway that comes.

He's talking about expensive beans, and his favourite roasts – and a place across town that sells the exact kind he likes, but it's too fucking gentrified for him to go there more than two or three times a year. That makes you giggle: his little pout, the press of brow; and he looks up in surprise before joining you in light laughter.

You finish, pouring cream into his special mug with a flourish, and he steals a sip before you can. You elbow him away, angling for that stolen taste. When you do, it is deep and rich; sweet in a way that reminds you of Miguel, grounded and balanced and silky. In short, it's the perfect cup of coffee. More than content, you hum.

"Is it good?" He asks because he's already making mental notes, planning to greet you with a hot flask of the stuff in the mornings – if it means he gets that smile, of course.

"Very." Fervently you nod, lips curved to the ceramic as you blow; and Miguel is trying really hard not to stare. Maybe it's the fact that he's seen you in a way not everyone gets to; pretty and vulnerable and writhing on the tip of his cock; but it has him fending off vivid daydreams. Your lips wrapped around his length, his hand pressing you further down, feeling that warmth as you choke on his–

He blinks and you're gone, padding off to your room with that mug of coffee. You return not too long after, phone in hand and tapping away at the screen. Miguel ignores the way it makes him feel, having your attention and then losing it just as quickly. Like a kicked puppy, he resists the urge to beg for more – of your time, of your attention – turning away to clean up instead.

"I spoke to Jamie," You start, leaning with your back to the counter as he rolls up the sleeves of a comfy sweater. "He said he'll be around later in the evening, after his shift. Around 10. Is that okay?"

He shrugs, not caring either way. You're a friend, and he's helping you because that's what friends do. He can still taste you on his lips, but it doesn't mean anything. Not in a way you'd want, anyways.

"Sure." He doesn't turn around, stealing glances at the open window whilst he clatters around. "I've got a session later on anyways."

He catches a flash of something on your face, and you're pushing it away; prickly and uncomfortable. In his defence, he's stopped bringing people over for faux chemistry tutoring and there's less banging coming from across the wall. Less , but not completely gone, because you've learnt he has a penchant for dropping shit and cursing like someone's Dad.

But you can't help but think about Sarah , and Jia …. and how close he would get to Sita on the dining table. Fuck .

You're sighing now, tracing the curve of his jaw as he settles in front of the window: jaw set, arms crossed, and distant. He does that sometimes, goes off somewhere else – all teeth and claws. Tense, brows drawn up in a way that makes you want to smooth them out.

You put your phone down and mug away, sliding across linoleum to gently nudge his shoulder with your own.

"Are we…" He starts, and you track his line of sight to a quiet street below. He hums, without looking away. "Are we good?"

It makes you turn. You blink, as if out of all the nonsense you bicker about daily, that was the most ridiculous. Good? Good? Of course we are, of course we always will be. How could we be anything else? You shut it down before it spills out of your mouth, overzealous and desperate.

He clarifies with a nervous cough. "Last night. Was it… good?"

His frown deepens, and you wonder if it's just you that hears it in his tone. His real question, the one that makes you splinter and creak like a felled oak tree: Was I good? Am I good enough?

"Yeah. " You say it like the most obvious thing in the world – and to you, it is. For all his flaws; assholery and its trimmings aside; Miguel has never been a bad lay. You don't even think he has it in him; he couldn't half-ass it if he tried.

"It was–" Fucking amazing . The kind of thing you'll fuck yourself to for the foreseeable future. Cathartic and breath-taking and hot . All of the above.

Miguel finishes your sentence with something a little less… horny. "It was a lot, wasn't it? I wasn't really thinking, how uncomfortable it could be for you, and–"

Gently, you laugh and cut him off. "I've been having mediocre sex for basically the whole of my adult life, Mig. This is… exciting and new. I like it, I really do."

Exciting and new. It brings him crashing back down to earth. You're enjoying the way he makes you feel, the thrill . Not… him. Not really, anyways. That pang of disappointment feels different, for some reason. He's never liked the song and dance of flirting, but he cherishes its rewards: of being wanted, and someone wanting him . So that fiery flame of need; deep and heady; is unfamiliar under his skin.

"We can slow down, if you'd like." You bring a hand to his arm, warm and gentle. "I don't mind. We can go back to just messing around on the couch…."

You've got a cheeky smile when you say it; a vague memory of a different time, when you had gotten a little too comfortable on the sofa, leading to hands stuffed in trousers and pressed up against one another. Quick and desperate, you had wanted to see him fall apart; like he did your first night together, and the next, and the next.

He gets closer, sandwiching you between the counter and his body. With a gentle hand, he strokes your hip, bunching up the fabric to get a peek of thigh.

“What do you like?” He’s deadly serious, red-brown eyes searching your face for something he can’t quite place. And just like that, the air is thick with tension. All you can manage is a limp shrug.

“I don’t know, really.” It comes out as a croak , as you’re much too occupied with the shrinking gap between you both. “I haven’t done the things you’ve done.”

You’re making assumptions, of course. Filling in the gaps of what you’ve learnt in the past few months; of alleged threesomes and a laundry list of women at his feet. He’s an asshole; pretty and gruff and sarcastic; but God , he knows how to touch you just right.

“I could show you.” He slots a knee between your thighs and your head spins. “Make you feel good. ”

Before you can think, you’re nodding; chewing at your lip to bite back moans when he rucks up your shirt. He nudges your legs apart, both hands on your waist as he slots himself between them. You can feel it; quickly hardening, loose underneath sweats. Miguel slides wide palms to your ass, kneading its globes. With one hand, he picks up your leg by the thigh, and snakes the other to your pussy. Bare, because you’re trying to kill him, of course, and he groans at the feeling of his hand at your cunt; already wet and pliant for him.

After a few wet taps to your hole, obscene, he slips himself out and you heave; pussy fluttering at just the thought of him inside you. Gathering up your slick on his palm, Miguel pumps his weeping cock, pressing its tip to your hole.

"Still sore, Miguel." You hiss, looking down at where you both meet with the prettiest pout he thinks he's ever seen.

It has you clawing at his back for purchase as he finally sinks in, stretching you out in that wonderful way he did last night. Except this time, he's slow and careful; steeling himself with shaky breaths.

"Oh, fuck. " He settles in about halfway, stopping to hike up your leg just a bit higher. "Want me to make you feel better?"

He says it breathless and crooning, forehead comes to rest on yours. With that other hand flat on the counter, you're lifted up to only toes on the floor, and he angles himself to buck up; filling you deep, and cock sliding past that sweet spot inside. He sets a pace, grinding into you, rather than fucking. If last night was dirty ; taboo, quick and primal; then this morning feels different. Intimate and reverent, he rolls his hips perfectly ; sending flashes of that first night down your spine.

With the moans that spill out of your mouth, it takes all of Miguel's willpower not to swallow them in a kiss. Impossibly close, he traces up your thigh with a large palm; eventually pressing into the small of your back. Arching into him, your lips barely brush together, and you're both panting into open mouths; drunk on pleasure.

"Miguel." There's a warning somewhere in your tone; underneath the layers of lust, you remind him of your previous agreement.

"I… I know. " He swallows, nose pressed to yours, eyes screwed shut. He thinks if he opens them, he might spill into you right then and there.

He's trying, he really is, tracing your cheek with his nose and mouthing at your neck – light kisses against the skin. He smells like coffee, bittersweet and heady, and you groan, rocking into him in a way that rubs up against your clit – before finding an ounce of restraint and putting a hand to his neck.

You apply a little pressure, intending to push him away, but he likes it: eyes fluttering open, and mouth curved into a little O. It's a pretty sight that has you drooling, tits pressed against him as he practically purrs . And so, you pull him closer; nails dancing underneath his shirt, whispering filth into the shell of his ear. You're close, grinding into him like the push and pull of waves, merely waiting for the crescendo of orgasm to take you out to sea.

"I'm close, Miguel." All he can do is hum, pulling you closer. "Fuck, I feel so good. You make me feel so good."

"Yeah? " He asks, needy in a way you haven't quite seen before.

"M'gonna cum," You nod. "...because of you, baby. You did good. So good. Shit, ohh –g-god–"

You clamp down on him, gushing around him with shaky legs. And Miguel is good; patient as he watches you fuck yourself through the aftermath. When it finally slows, he slips out with an obscene squelch clamping a hand to the base of his cock and leaning heavily on the counter.

"It's okay," As if on cue, you kneel in front of him as best you can, tugging down your shirt to expose collarbone and the swell of tits.

Miguel growls, grunting as he splatters thick cum across your chest, pumping his poor cock through it.

He wouldn't have lasted a second longer, not with that smile across your face; smug as you swipe fingers across your chest and lick up the mess he's made.

He's sighing, tucking himself back into gray sweats and pulling you up with a hand in yours; grumbling as you absentmindedly follow him to the sofa.

You're leaning back onto the arm of the tattered material, and he settles to sit so your legs lay in his lap. He's frowning, again, and it makes you giggle, still licking up what's left on your fingers.

He rolls his eyes, tapping a spot on your chin. A fat glob of his cum, dripping from your jaw to your neck. You miss it on the first swipe, and he gets impatient on the second, grabbing your hands and clambering over you. He drags the flat of his tongue to your skin, licking it up for you – and your eyes go wide. That… that felt good.

You giggle at the sensation, so attuned to your roommate that you can hear it: his eyes clattering into the back of his skull, as he rolls his eyes a second time.

"Is that okay?" He says it into the skin, pausing over a particularly tender spot. "Not too far?"

"Feels nice, Mig." You sigh, content. Sun streams in on a lazy morning, and you're sore in the kind of way that feels good; fucked out and blissful.

You lean into it, and then he sucks , teeth clashing onto the skin as he gives you a hickey and the juncture of your jaw. You wriggle, and he pins you down with one big hand holding down your arm, nipping and kissing and soothing it with a flash of tongue. This time he smiles, wrapping around your middle, tugging down your shirt to decorate your chest with hickeys. You play with his hair, wrapping soft curls between your fingers.

You spend a little too long like that; curved into him, spines moulded to the shape of each other. It feels nicer than either of you would care to admit; the pretense of sex wrapped around you both like a thin veil. Before he leaves, Miguel indulges himself just this once; head on your chest and sinking into those arms wrapped around him. You smell like coffee and sweat and Autumn, somehow. He presses kisses wherever he can reach, for a bit longer.

Miguel is okay. He's doing just fine.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs

@bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 x reader

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justaweasel · 3 months

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Obey me but I am actively crying as I write this (not anymore I'm okay)

Satan has a type of inferiority complex. It's mostly because he's technically the youngest. But he sees everything this siblings have done and compares himself constantly. Especially to Lucifer.

One time the brothers played a little game for funsies, maybe like one of those stupid little games of hide and seek.

Satan was it and had found everyone relatively quickly, however, Lucifer was left.

He had honestly given it his best to find his brother, and imagined Lucifer's voice taunting him as he tried so hard. He looked everywhere. The more he looked, the more his insecurity surged. He thought more and more of his smug older brother's face as he looked.

Eventually, he broke down. He stomped and furniture was hurled to the floor. Doors slammed and windows shattered.

Lucifer came out of hiding of course but seeing his face only made Satan angrier.

Of course he couldn't find him on his own. Lucifer had to come out just so he could find him. How pathetic.

He almost slammed the door off of its hinges. The sound echoing through the trashed house.

That night wasn't a restful one for Satan. The thoughts swirled through his head. How pathetic he was, how right now he wallowed in his loathing of himself. No matter what he'd do or accomplish, he'd be a second-rate Lucifer.

Whatever he achieved was short in comparison to what Lucifer had done. Whatever he bragged about Lucifer seemed to one-up him without trying. Nothing mattered because it was all, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer. What he created was just an extension of Lucifer's accomplishments.

They all treated him like a kid, like lesser, but he's just as important and knowledgeable as them. Can't they see that for what it is? Isn't he important too? Isn't he someone with thoughts, feelings and emotions separate to Lucifer?

Never. He would never have that. He does his best to hide it. But it always tears it's way through the mental prison he's made for it. Locked up in what no one else would see. His thoughts blocked by a thick wall of fog.

The next morning they called it a hissy fit.

Was that all it boiled down to for them?? His feelings of shame and inner hatred of himself boiled down to a mere hissy fit? Was that truly how they saw him? How they saw his feelings? As if that whirlpool of feelings didn't suck him into their depths? As if he didn't feel the weight of his life and the circumstances of existence crush down on him until he was a screaming mess with no other way to deal with his emotions other than to make noise? Was that all he amounted to in their heads?

Let's just say Satan didn't come out of his room that night. Or the night after.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #satan obey me #lucifer obey me #angst #heavy angst #projecting #angst with a sad ending #obey me brothers

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deathbecomesthem · 5 months

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Trailer Park Blues (one shot)

MINORS DNI, STRICTLY 18+

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | wc: 3.7K

*This is a reupload from an old blog. It's one of my most favorite stories.

Summary: You've lived in the trailer park as long as Eddie has, and you've been frenemies the entire time. Today, though, the heat of the summer drives you into the cool arms of the air conditioned trailer next door. (I am horny for summer as well as Eddie Munson)

Warnings: Smut with feelings. Teasing, before the smut, nothing overly mean. Depictions of poverty. There are no body descriptions of the reader, BUT she is wearing a string bikini, her body "jiggles" when she walks, she has breasts (no size mentioned), and she starts the story sunbathing.

A/N: I feel the need to thank @blueywrites and @pinkrelish for the initial encouragement to write this story after only reading the first 200 words when I literally had no plot in mind. There are many other friends that also encouraged and tossed ideas at me while I was figuring out if I even had something. Thanks, I hope it doesn't suck!

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Hot days like this push you out of the stagnant air of the trailer. Stuffy smoke-filled rooms and the occasional fly buzzing around the trashcan in the kitchen. Some of the neighbors have little ac units sticking out of their windows, promising a reprieve from the unmoving Indiana summer heat – but not your hovel. No, that was an expense you couldn’t afford, and your mother wouldn’t.

The string bikini was your idea of rebellion, despite being too old to rebel against a woman that was never home and wouldn’t care if her adult daughter walked around the park in the nude as long as she brought home her rent money. The upside was less fabric to stick to your sweaty skin, the downside was that every exposed part of you sticks to the reclining beach chair you use for sun tanning.

The baby oil you have slathered all over your body has blocked every other summer scent your nose might seek out while you let the sun beat down on you. You already know you won’t last long and begin to think about heading down to the Hawkins Public Pool for a dip, as long as you can scrape together the couple of bucks for entry. A movie was always a possibility, but that would cost you even more of what you don’t have. You’re ready to start digging a whole in the ground to settle into, any relief.

Just as you push your sunglasses to the top of your head, trying to mentally work out your path back into the hell that is your home, you feel a presence behind you. You know who it is, your bikini is his siren call. You also know that he might have a little scratch today, since last weekend was full of grad parties that needed some herbal refreshments provided by Hawkins best boy.

“Whad’ya want, Edward?” It doesn’t even require a turn of your head to know his presence, it’s second nature to recognize him. Every day of your life in the park since the age of 9 has included him, for better or worse. Never a real friend, and never a true enemy, just Ed.

“Booboo, you’re going to give everyone the wrong idea in that thing,” playful and light but tinged with venom, his words are what finally draw your attention. The shorts he’s wearing are an old pair of jeans cut just above the knees, and the shirt an old tee that he hacked the sleeves off of. You two are a match made in white trash heaven.

“Wouldn’t want that, huh?” You flick your sunglasses back down against the bridge of your nose to obscure your wandering eyes, but Eddie makes no attempt to hide his own. “You didn’t answer my question, Edward, what can I help you with?” Your impatient hand twirls in a come-on motion while your hot eyes rake across his exposed biceps traveling down to his boney wrists and big hands.

“I’m bored and I saw my old friend Booboo outside, obviously desperately seeking the attention of someone in the tiniest bikini known to man.” Eddie reaches a hand out to play with the string at the base of your neck where the halter ties before pinching the edge of your sunglasses and tugging them off your face.

“Wow, you’re really hung up on that. You’re lucky I’m wearing anything, it’s so fucking hot today.” No words about it exchanged, but you start to reach back for your glasses while Eddie’s long arm reaches above his head to hold them out of your arm’s length. It’s a natural thing, what you do next. Something you’ve done so many other times you don’t really think about how much older you both are now. How inappropriate it might be. He has something of yours and you want it back. Your quick hand reaches easily into the loose arm hole and find its prize on instinct. Pinch hard and twist.

A swat, a yelp, a leg kicking yours out, and you find yourself wrapped up in Eddie’s much stronger arms. A sudden thought, the fact that you’re wearing nothing more than strings with small patches of fabric covering your most sensitive places, flashes in your mind. It makes your knees want to buckle. A small stumble met with a firmer grip from the boy standing behind you.

“Woah there, you alright?” A strong hand moves to steady your elbow and you sink back into your chair for a moment, and he’s crouching down to take a look at your face. His concern makes you heat up even more, because the face so close to your own is not that of the boy that used to tease you and chase you around. No, this is the face of a young man, and you’ve noticed those changes so much in recent years. Those big brown eyes have remained the same, open and full of shared memories.

It's your chance, so you take it, grabbing the frames from his hand while he’s still searching your face for any sign of distress. You put them on your face again, letting them shield any secrets you might not want him to see.

“Listen, Edward,” you give him a light shove to his shoulder making him wobble a little, “It’s hot, and I’m fine. Unless you have some sort of brilliant plan to turn the heat down, I’m gonna go take my third ice cold shower for the day.”

“Uh,” he’s turning a skeptical eye at the trailer behind you, the one you share with your mother, while you stand again using him as leverage. He stays where he is, his face level with the front of your bikini bottoms. You can see a thought, not unlike the ones you try to hide from him, scuttle across his face, “you guys still don’t even have one unit in that trash compactor you call a trailer?”

A jab and a miss, you know how everyone looks at your place. Even for the park, it’s low living. It’s been a rough go for your mom, and you both make do together. “Sorry, Edward, some of us don’t live in the lap of luxury.”

His laugh, a bark of joy, rings out. He looks like the boy right now, the boisterous laugh turned giggle fit at the absurdity of considering the Munson trailer the “lap of luxury.” He’s on his feet in a flash, suddenly close again, face still beaming.

“How about you spend some time with me in the Munson mansion, eh? Have a little smoke, you can read or watch a movie,” Eddie subconsciously licks at his lips, giving away the thoughts behind the words, “whatever you want, Booboo. I’m not doing shit anyway.”

Whatever you want is what he says. None of it passes your notice, the looks, the lips, the subtle leaning into your space, the hand at your shoulder absentmindedly rubbing your baby oil slicked skin. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it, the summer sun boiling his brain right along with yours.

“Yeah, ok.” The gaze between you lingers for another moment until a mosquito lands on his cheek. He doesn’t notice, but you smash it with a slap and laugh at his reaction. You show him the residual bug guts on your palm as explanation, “sorry, didn’t want it to bite you and mess up that pretty face.”

A spin of your heels and a job back to the porch of your own trailer gives Eddie the perfect view of your ass. You make sure to exaggerate the movements of your hips, letting his imagination run off to thoughts of his face between your soft thighs. The way your sweaty skin would taste against his tongue. By the time you’re jogging back towards him with the other half of your jiggling body on display, he’s sporting a semi and wishing the shorts he chose gave him a little more wiggle room.

“Edddddddiiiieee,” you’re pulling an oversized t shirt by the time you reach his side, and you find him a little dazed, “let’s go inside. We can order a pizza later, as long as you don’t kick me out by then.” Your elbow is hooked in his, an old habit from the days of tromping around the woods together when you were kids, as you lead him up the stairs to the sweet relief of the dark and cool Munson trailer.

“Oh, Booboo, you can stay as long as you want.” His admission is a light exhale of breath as he watches your hips sway up the steps in front of him. And you think, you’ll stay for pizza, you’ll stay for a toke, and you’ll stay for whatever else might be on the table.

You had greatly underestimated the effect the cool air would have on your sweat slicked skin. Your mostly bare ass is sat on the carpet of Eddie’s room where a small window air conditioner is clanking out polar air into the room. A sweet and acrid smell hangs in the air, no doubt a leak from the unit, along with stale smoke and dust. Crumbs cling to your skin as you shift your position, and your nipples are pebbled standing out against the layer of swimsuit and cotton.

“Goddamnit, Ed, have you ever heard of a vacuum cleaner?” You brush off what appears to be Cheeto crumbs from the backs of your thighs when a head appears next to your own hanging off the side of the bed. His hair tickles your shoulder where your shirt hangs off, and he’s close. He always gets so close when he talks to you. You can see every individual hair across the pale skin of his cheeks, every freckle scattered across the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, the maid’s on vacation. Uh –“ he scans your body awkwardly from his current position and clears his throat, “You feeling a little cold, Booboo?” Poniente, the question hangs for a moment until he nods his head to your chest where your body has betrayed you, and you feel your nipples peak even harder at the implication.

You give his head a weak shove as an effort to break the tension he created. He grabs his cheek in mock agony, and you stand letting your shirt drift over his face giving him a prime view for the briefest moment. You think you hear something akin to a snarl from Eddie before you crawl onto the mattress next to him. You grab the crochet blanket that rests off the far edge of the bed and wrap it around yourself.

“Much better now, thank you.” Your painted toes wiggle under the skin of his calves in an attempt to steal their warmth and you find that there’s a chill to his skin too. “You can turn that thing down, can’t you? You’re freezing, Edward.”

“Oh, we’re back to Edward again, hmmm.” He crawls his way up next to you, throwing back his comforter and covering himself. He holds it open in invitation to you, patting the spot next to him. “It only works on high, we can get warm under here if you want.” That tension is back, you both know what comes next, and your heart is thudding in your chest along with a deep and hard pulse in your cunt.

But this is Eddie, your Eddie Spaghetti, and he can’t take the tension either. A quick wiggle of the eyebrows at his obvious attempt to get you close to him, and you giggle and work your way under the big blanket. A reward he deserves for being his goofy self.

“Is this ok?” a quick and quiet whisper against the top of your head while a hand snakes around your center. You nod, not trusting your words at the moment. It’s so natural, the way you shift yourself into him. The way you tuck your nose into his chest and breath in the smell of him – sweat, smoke, old spice – distinctly Eddie. The rough pads of his fingers move along the exposed skin at the top of your hip and you’re feeling bolder, now that you know – this is real and so is he.

“I can’t believe I’m in your bed, Edward. How long have you been planning this, hmm?” Your own hand snuck its way through the wide arm hole of his shirt, and it’s playing with the guitar pick that always hangs at his chest. You let the back of your knuckles brush against his soft skin eliciting a little gasp from him.

“I wish I could say I planned this,” both of his hands find your hips to shift you, make you face him, “I never thought this was a possibility, Booboo.” Every inch, the turn of his face, hot breath on your lips – his eyes stay on yours watching to make sure it’s real for you. You want this too. He sees no hesitation, no concern, no confusion; only your honest to god lustful eyes and pretty lips hanging open in anticipation.

The kiss starts small, lips moving cautiously. Feeling each other with the tender skin, testing the waters until, until, until in unison your tongues enter the silent conversation and permission to move freely is granted. Eagerness quickly overtakes caution, your leg thrown over his sharp hip to pull him into you and press himself against you and your aching need.

Years of sexual tension and childhood crushing explode between your bodies. It’s not soft, the way his teeth bite at your lip, the way your hands scratch at his chest. It’s hungry and needy. You run your fingers through his soft curls and give a tug increasing in strength at the soft whimpering moan he lets go of at the action.

“Off.” Firm words from Eddie and a firm grip at the edge of your shirt, his eyes are black, lips red and kiss bitten. You sit up, and he plays with the folds of your soft stomach while you lift and toss the shirt, adding to a pile of clothes already in the corner of his room. He’s pulling you in again, fingers running against the small string that is the only remaining barrier between Eddie and your bare chest. “This is real cute, ya know? Real fucking cute.” He finds the knot at the back of your neck and expertly unties it with his nimble fingers, freeing you.

An immediate slow down happens as dark eyes wash over your form and fingers softly stroke up and down your torso, barely ghosting touches across your hard peaks. You feel your back lift from the mattress, chasing his touch, but he keeps moving lightly across your skin savoring the moment unbothered by your obvious need.

“Eddie,” the desperation in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that the bottom of your bikini is so drenched with your arousal it’s sticking to your lips. It’s uncomfortable, and his barely there touching has is deepening the ache inside. His eyebrows are knitted together at the sound of your voice. He’s lost in you already, just the sight of you laid out before him in his bed, something he’s wanted since the first morning he woke up surrounded by wet drenched sheets – a memory of a dream that featured you in a yellow sundress you wore so often a few summers ago.

“You really want this with me?” His touch is gaining surety while he waits for your answer, gripping at the soft mound of a breast while you rock your hips against nothing. “How do you want me, my sweet Booboo?” The sound of your nickname on his lips, a name he’s used to playfully ridicule you with for ages, is almost enough to hurtle you over the edge.

“I just want you, Eddie. Anyway, everyway.” Your words are a gasp, his warm and soft mouth take a nipple in your mouth, juxtaposed against the chill that still settles over the other from the overly cold air of the room. His lips suckle and nip at you, and again you find your body is pushing its way closer to Eddie. It’s not possible to play a game, no amount of willpower can hide how much you’ve wanted this. How long you’ve dreamt about him taking what he wants from you. A flitter of a thought, this is a dream, floats in front of you and quickly vanishes as the slight pain of teeth dragging across your sensitive skin bring you right back to the present and obvious reality.

It won’t do, this won’t do. Your hands tug at his shirt and shorts simultaneously. It all needs to go, and you can’t choose what goes first. Your brain is swimming in a lusty haze, but Eddie is still steady in thought.

“Hey,” his hand has a firm grip on your chin, calling you back to him, “you gonna stay with me? Where are you?” His eyes dart back and forth between yours until you’re back and focused on him. “I need you here with me, ok?”

You nod, breathe deep, and with more calm pull at his shirt. It’s gone in a flash, landing on top of yours in the corner. Your hand finds the waist of his shorts, and fiddle with the top button. You keep your eyes on his, staying with him. His mouth opens as the button *pops* and you unhook the teeth of his zipper.

“I’m here, Eddie. I’m right here, and I want you. Did you know that?” It’s his turn to look hazy and unsteady. Your words and your hands working his shorts and boxers off in one movement, leave him speechless. He’s putty in your hands, elbow drops and now he’s laid flat on the mattress while you work your way down his body.

You’re careful with the nipple you badly abused earlier, kissing around the still reddened and slightly purpling skin. Whispered apologies against his body, not just for the pain, but for waiting so long to let this happen. You lick your wet tongue across the black ink scratched across his torse moving closer to your goal.

His beautiful cock stands firm against his abdomen, already leaking in anticipation of your touch, matching your own need. Your bodies slick and ready for each other, begging, please let us do what we’ve been wanting for so long. Your intention is to meet his need with your own as you throw a leg over him, finally letting him feel how much your body wants this.

“Oh my god,” his fingers move to find out for themselves, not trusting the skin of his thigh to tell him, moving the fabric of your swimsuit to the side, and dipping between your lips to feel. “Oh you’re so wet.” His cock twitches in answer to your own drenching arousal. He doesn’t make a move, he waits for you.

Your fingers reach for one of the knots at your hip, free yourself completely from the ruined suit, but his hand stops you. It’s your Eddie in front of you, and he’s shaking his head eyes wide a grin spread across lips that mouth, “keep it on”.

You’re giggling again and kissing him against your laughter. Until he undoes it again with a rock up of his hips, the length of his cock rubbing against your slit and your laugh ends in an obscene groan.

You sit up, eyes narrowed down at the smirking boy as he rocks up again into you. You reach your hand behind you, gripping him and watch his mouth open in a gasp. You don’t need anything more, you’re soaked already. You push the suit aside, and run him against your slit once, twice, three times before you twist your hips up and slowly sink down onto him.

“Oh my god,” an exclamation in unison as your bodies connect. You let yourself take him in completely, fluttering at the full feeling. You can feel him pulsing inside of you, the slightest curve of his tip touching that hard-to-reach spot hiding deep inside of you.

It’s sloppy and unpracticed, but you’re both so drunk on one another it doesn’t matter. The sounds of skin on skin, whines, and moans while you rock into each other. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your aching nub send you hurtling towards a powerful orgasm.

“Eddie, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” you’re uttering on an inhale, and Eddie is practically crying at the sound of your voice. He’s pulling you down chest to chest, mouth at ear.

“Cum with me, baby, cum with me,” he’s panting against your skin, arms holding you tight against him and a flash of white spreads across your vision. Every part of your body is screaming out for him, and you only vaguely hear the literal scream coming from your mouth as your body tenses and you pulse around him. Every flutter of you around his cock brings his own release pumping deep inside of you, warm and sticky.

You stay with his arms wrapped around you and your pussy wrapped around his cock as you both ride out aftershocks and you slowly come back down to earth, to Hawkins, to this bed in this too cold trailer on the hottest day of the summer of 1986.

You eventually lift your hips enough to release him, letting his softened length rest against his thigh, but you stay in his embrace. He pulls the comforter, lost at some point while your connected bodies sought out pleasure, over your shoulders. His mouth is still close to your ear, and he’s humming in satisfaction. Neither of you care about the sticky and cooling mess between your bodies.

When you rouse, you find Eddie sitting in a folding chair, fingers moving against the strings of his acoustic guitar in silent and careful movements. You don’t move, watching the tendons of his fingers move, his lips singing a barely whispered tune. You think that maybe the summer’s not so bad, maybe the trailer park is actually the only place you’ve ever wanted to be. No where else has this perfect view.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff

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quietlyinlife · 10 months

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Platonic Yandere Father Leon Kennedy

•If Leon is possessive and obsessive with his wife, then you are in the same position as your mother but worse the moment you were born and being held in his arms.

•After all the hardships and deaths he experienced when he was a newbie cop and the outbreaks that occurred, he didn’t want you to leave him or your mother. The two people he loves so much that Leon is willing to give up saving the world in order to rescue you and his wife.

•Leon may not have gotten the childhood he wanted after his parents’ death but he didn’t want you to go through the same traumatic experience as he did when he was a kid.

•Also made you another reason why he should continue fighting to stay alive.

•As a father, he would aid your mother to take care of you, help her bathe you, feed you, go out to buy baby supplies, and insist that your mother should stay home and play with you before he comes back.

•When his job doesn’t call for him, he spends all his time and attention on you. Showing you the toys he brought as you lay on your crib and watching him give you many plushies to hold. Would coo at you while he carries you and makes a promise to you that even if you grow up into an adult, he will always protect you and your mom and kill anyone who tries to take the both of you away.

•Definitely watches over you in the middle of the night after waking up from one of his many nightmares. Eyes were glued to you as you slept and sometimes he would doze off on the couch in the nursery room.

•Would play games with you like hide and seek or tag when you learned how to walk and talk.

•As a child, you were naive about the dark past Leon has with your mom, you only noticed how your mom was never allowed to go outside alone with you. Only Leon could accompany you and your mom during outings together. You also noticed how tightly his hand held your mom’s while the three of you went on a walk through the empty road in an isolated forest where the house is located. Leon never allows you to run far.

•When it’s just you and your mom at home, she begins to tell you stories about how she met your father when both of them were young. Your father used to be a police officer and he saved her from being attacked and they went traveling around Raccoon City. She left the outbreak of the t-virus part out, including how she got kidnapped by Leon a few weeks later after six years when he finally reunited with her.

•As you grow up into a teenager, you start to begin to notice how isolating your father is. One time you asked if you could go outside, Leon would look at you, startled before a smile forms on his face, and gives a short speech about how dangerous this world is and how there are dangers at every corner. But he would take you outside the home if you begged enough for a four-minute walk before going back inside. But if you asked one more time to go out he’ll usually ignore you or just say no.

•Leon never lets you go out alone, or out with some friends. Your dad doesn't trust anyone with you or your mom.

•Leon is a spoiling father, buying you anything you want with no limits if you asked. Your mother taught you to be grateful for all the things Leon and her have done for you.

•Leon is a bit too much as a father, he hates when you do something without him, or on your phone and not paying attention to him, and wants you to always text him or say it to him physically goodnight to him before sleeping. But what Leon hates the most is when you watch horror movies and he would sometimes get a bit ptsd from them when he sees a scene quite similar of what he went through. He thinks you're too young for them and bad for your mental health so if he ever catches you watching something scary, he would give you a death stare before turning the tv off.

"I don't want you to ever watch any of this." Leon fumes, a frown casting across his face as his tone is deep and dark. His eyes stares deep into your own. Not once looking away from you, You were nearly quivering on the couch but kept a brave face. And ever since that day, you only watched horror movies inside your room on your laptop.

•Would ask you questions about your day when he comes home. Also expects you to go to him for a hug when he returns from his mission. If you don’t show up then he’s at the door of your room, knocking and engulfing you into a tight hug. You’re not allowed to complain.

“Am I not allowed to hug my only child? I miss you every day even when we live in the same house together.” He tells you as he pulls you back to look at your face with a questioning look.

•You’re not the only victim of his affections, your mom is too as he forces kisses on her face.

•Leon also checks your phone sometimes just to watch out for you, as he claims but you brush it off since he just wants to see if your friends are a bad influence. You kept it from your father when he was away for his job as an agent, you would always delete the messages between you and your friends.

•But what you didn’t know is that Leon hacked into your phone before he even gave it to you as a gift when he first brought it for you when you turned 13 years old; giving him access through your contacts and other stuff. He simply wants to know if you hide things from him. You would never find out the real reason why your friends suddenly leave the school. There’s nothing you can hide from him.

•You started to become a bit scared of your father when you started to read people's horrifying experience on the internet of what they went through of someone stalking them and obsessing over them. One woman told the story of how her boyfriend never allowed her to talk to any guy or friends because he was scared they were going to take her away from him. But when she confronted him about his behaviour, he excused it saying that "This world is dangerous and I am simply protecting you." And you quickly found out that your dad is more than just an agent.

•You noticed how jumpy your mom is around Leon and how in the middle of the night, he would always say how much he loves her and that he is doing this for your and her own good. You even recall hearing your mom crying silently in the kitchen. She never says "I love you" towards Leon.

•Your curiosity brought you to investigate your parent's past.

•You only came to fully realize the toxic behavior of your father because you decided to snoop around your dad’s office after managing to open the door, using the lock-picking technique you learned from the internet.

•You were curious about why your father forbade you from entering his office, but also you figured it would be easier starting with him considering of his actions and it’s not like he would find out immediately of what you did. That’s what you reassured yourself.

•Many documents could be found and a report on your father’s desk, that’s when you came to know about the Kennedy report and see your father’s younger picture. You saw how stoic and stern his face was, so dull with no sign of light.

•You could definitely understand why as you read through the report.

•You also came to know what actually happened in Raccoon City that your mom didn’t tell you about. But what was more shocking is that you opened a file containing your mother’s entire information that was hidden in his drawer and many pictures of her. Including a newspaper talking about the missing woman who is known to be your mother.

•The moment Leon left the house not before giving your mom a goodbye kiss and giving you a kiss on the top of your head as well, you confronted your mother about the file and how she kept the outbreak from you. Even how your dad literally has an entire information and pictures of her. That’s when you saw her face morph into terror as you demanded an explanation of what is going on.

•Tired of her keeping secrets.

• And your mother told you the entire story of what happened in Raccoon City and Leon’s obsession that drove him to abduct her, as a way to protect her. She even mentioned that he cared for another woman named Ada Wong but he still chose your mom. Your mother didn’t leave any single detail out as she told her story of how Leon gaslighted her and how she tried to escape many times but failed. You couldn’t help but see your parents in a different light now.

“Let’s run away together Mom.” You told her with a determined expression as she profusely shook her head, not agreeing with you.

“N-no my love, you don’t know what your father is truly capable of.” Your mother stuttered as she cupped your face.

“What do you mean? Dad’s a secret agent and he knows how to fight, right?”

“There’s more than that.” Mom whispers to you, her frightened eyes never leaving your face.

•What you two didn’t know is that Leon has placed hidden cameras in the house, watching and listening. He heard the entire conversation and was rather heartbroken that you suggested to escape with your mom.

•And even disappointed when he watched you go through his work in the office. Leon is not dumb because he knows there will be a time when you truly find out the truth. He is aware of your growing suspicion.

•If you ever escaped, you wouldn’t go that far since your father would always find you. He placed a tracker on your clothes, phone, and jewelry. If you wear it.

•Leon never treated you and your mother bad! He could never bring himself to even use violence towards the both of you. You didn’t understand but don’t worry. As a father, he’ll make you see through his perspective in his own way.

#yandere works #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #resident evil #platonic yandere #dad leon kennedy #obsession #gender neutral reader #platonic yandere x reader #leon scott kennedy

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seungminxstay · 4 months

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no secrets / jun x reader / 18+ mdni

when a small accident ends up in a long awaited sex with your virgin boyfriend

You were a couple weeks into your relationship with Jun. A sweet, shy confession, a few dates here and there - brunch at the nearby coffee shop, strolls in the afternoon park, dinners, movies. Holding hands, chaste pecks on your lips, warm goodbye hugs.

Although you were ready to get more intimate with Jun, you weren't really sure how comfortable he was. When you ran your tongue over his lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, he answered with the same passion. But a touch under his shirt, a kiss at the base of his neck, made him nervously laugh and pull away.

You felt a twinge of something sharp every time a make out session would halt to a stop. To make matters worse, lately, you couldn't help but thirst over the smallest details about him. His forearm when he rolled up his sleeve. His voice, especially when he called your name. Last Friday, at his house, when you got a slight whiff of his perfume when he leaned over - to kiss you, you thought at first - but reaching for a cabinet behind your back.

"I bought good wine," Jun had excitedly announced, taking out two glasses. You smiled and nodded, feeling the tug, again, in your chest. Jun didn't want what you were longing for, and it felt so wrong if you were to ask for it.

Jun had painstakingly put together a dinner, consulting his mom more than a few times over phone calls; you felt his love through the charred chicken and the choppy vegetables. The sweeter he was to you, the more guilt you felt, pooling at the very bottom of your stomach and slowly burning your insides.

You'd been looking for your favorite cardigan over the weekend, wondering if you'd lost it in the laundry or your black hole of a closet. On Monday, when you happened to pass by Jun's apartment in the afternoon, you realized you'd worn it for your last date.

Noticing the light on in his room, you shot him a text, knowing he always had his notifications on. You waited patiently for a few minutes, but chilled by the February wind, you opted to just go straight to his door. In fact, he had given you the keys, assuring you could drop by whenever.

You were a bit cautious, though - not of Jun but of yourself, because whenever you stepped into his house, you were aware of the Jun everything - from Jun's jacket hanging on the chair to the smell of his go-to coffee filling up the entire room, and it made you a bit dizzy.

After knocking on the door and being met with silence, you gingerly tried the knob, which turned all the way, to your surprise. Maybe he fell asleep after a day of work. Or ran to the grocery store down the street for an errand. You kept quiet as you tiptoed in and closed the door behind you, still feeling like you were intruding.

Just then, you heard Jun's voice call your name down the hall, softly but unmistakably. A smile tugged the corners of your lips. So he was messing with you, the way he'd always do - hugging you from behind when you meet up in front of the cafe, or not brushing a leaf away when it landed in your hair, but deftly catching another and tucking it in your curls, making you squeal and swat at his arms.

"Playing hide n seek?" you sing-sang, poking your head in his bedroom door. You expected a giggling Jun, hiding behind the nightstand. You definitely wasn’t expecting him in the situation right now, and Jun wasn’t expecting you either, panicking as he covered himself with a duvet. It didn’t hide his obvious bulge nor his flushed face, red from arousal or embarrassment, you couldn’t tell.

Your body didn’t move. You stood in the doorway, feet planted, hand midair, eyes unable to look away.

“…I didn’t know you were coming,” Jun breathed out at last.

“I just texted you, it was a short notice but I had your keys, I thought it was okay,” you rambled. You didn’t know what you were feeling - relieved, to see Jun had desires? Confused? Sad that he always kept the slightest of a distance?

“No, you’re always welcome…”

“Why won’t you touch me?” you whispered, your voice unintentionally cracking at the end. Jun was caught off guard by your sudden question, but with you looking like you’re about to cry, he couldn’t avoid answering.

A long pause. “I’ve - never had sex before,” he finally said, peeking at you through his bangs. He didn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he warily searched for a fleck of disappointment, disapproval, something. He only saw you blink twice and let out a small breath you’ve been holding all this time.

You leaned over and wrapped your arms around him. “I wouldn’t care less, Jun,” you murmured, nuzzling your face in the hollow of his neck. If anything, you were relieved to have an answer to defy the many assumptions you’ve had.

Jun was suddenly aware of your body practically on top of him. Even with lust clouding your thoughts, you saw the waver in his eyes.

“If you’re not ready - ” you started, leaning away. But Jun surprised you as he pulled you back, a firm hand in your hair as he kissed you.

It was different this time. Of course, you adored every heart fluttering kiss you shared, but his hand slightly tugging your hair, your hand roaming on his broad back, both of you breathless, made you want more and more. His mouth was warm and sweet and everything you've ever wanted.

Then you saw it. Your beloved baby blue, the soft fabric bunched up in Jun’s hand and peeking from under the covers. Jun caught on to your realization, the tips of his ears burning a whole new shade of red.

You remembered him calling, or rather, moaning your name - he was getting off to you, your cardigan in his hand.

"What were you imagining, Junnie?" you asked, your lips on his collarbone. You felt his cock twitch under you, and your hips rocked instinctively, a frustrating layer of clothes and the duvet muffling the stimulation.

"... you looked so pretty, the last date," Jun whispered. You slowly took off his shirt, running your hands down his bare chest and urging him to go on. "I wanted to undress you, right on the spot.”

You gently guided Jun’s hand. He unbuttoned your shirt, looking at you for confirmation before wrapping his arms around you, clumsily unhooking your bra.

His soft lips found your nipples. As he rolled the hardened tip on his tongue, you let out a shaky sigh, savoring the gentle stimulation.

“And?”

“… and I imagined it was your hand, jerking me off.” Jun felt his face go hot, embarrassed by the dirty words that tumbled out of his mouth. It only made you more aroused, though, if that was even possible.

You hastily threw aside the covers, your hands immediately wrapping around his hard on.

Jun's breath stopped as you stroked him languidly, gradually quickening the pace. Your eyes were trained on his face, enjoying his pretty blush and fucked out expression; it made him even harder, though he wouldn't admit it.

The moans he let out were like music to your ears. Your fingers caressed every inch of his cock, teasing the tip, spreading his slick precum everywhere.

"God, y/n... fuck, I'm so close..." Jun groaned.

Smiling, you slowed down your strokes, earning a desperate gaze from Jun.

"The first time you cum, it'll be inside me," you said, laying down on your back. You ran your fingers along your folds, making sure to spread your legs nice and wide. Jun watched, mesmerized, as you toyed with your clit and buried two fingers in your dripping pussy. He needed to be inside you, so bad.

"C'mon, Junnie," you mewled. Jun got on top of you, his broad body caging you in, as he nervously eased his cock into you. Your walls instinctively clenched around his girth - Jun might have been a virgin, but god, his dick was so thick and pretty.

Although he started slowly, he was immediately entranced by your warm, tight pussy, hands firm on your hips as he chased his high. Your sweet, shy boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, but you went absolutely feral for the Jun right now, driven with lust, using you to get off. It sent an unexplainable shiver down your spine.

He didn’t know what pleased you, but it only made the sex better, if anything; his cock would hit your spot just barely not enough to make you come, and the unintentional teasing made you go crazy.

Jun let out a moan. The high came so quickly and intensely, he couldn’t say anything. His dick pulsed as you felt his hot cum inside you, and you rubbed your clit, blissfully devouring the pleasure from both.

Jun watched in a daze as you climaxed soon after, eyebrows knitted and breathless.

You pecked his cheek, still flushed from the intense sex. "Enjoyed it, Junnie?"

Jun hummed in response, unable to form words. He was starving for more, though - he had yet to savor your pussy, or stuff your mouth with his cock, or rail you from behind...

A quick eye contact told him you were wanting more as well. No words were needed as you locked lips. Outside, the mellow afternoon had already turned to dusk. The night was long.

#seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt smut #jun #wen junhui #jun x reader #svt #seventeen #wen junhui x reader #junhui x reader #junhui smut #moon junhui #jun smut #svt fanfic #jun fanfic #svt x reader #svt imagines #jun imagines

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magicalregression · 4 months

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General Hazbin Hotel hcs

Hello fellow agere hazbin enjoyers. I come with hcs for the main 6. Pls enjoy

🛡 ~ Charlie ~ 🛡

She's a little. Regresses to like 6-7 y/o and is so sweet and innocent.

Still wants to help everyone, and spends her time drawing posters to attract people to the hotel.

Her main cg is Vaggie for obvious reasons, though she will also gravitate towards Angel if he's around.

Eepy baby. Once all of her energy is gone, pick her up and she falls right to sleep.

⚔ ~ Vaggie ~ ⚔

She's a caregiver. Vaggie also will babysit the other littles in the hotel if needed, though she has an obvious preference for Charlie.

Is kinda hard on the littles when need be, can be very strict. This is especially true for bed/nap time, mealtimes, and baths. No stinky, overtired littles on Vaggie's watch.

This just popped into my head but cuddles where she uses her wings as like a blanket thing or just lets the little snuggle into it yes yes

Tends to clean up after playtime. She wants to be madder, but could never be truly angry with her babies.

🕷 ~ Angel Dust ~ 🕷

Angel is both a little and a babysitter. When he regresses, it's at a similar age to Charlie, maybe a bit older to around 7-8.

His energy levels highly fluctuate depending on his emotions before regressing. If he had been in a stressful situation or recently come back from work, he's very tired and kinda just wants to be alone with whatever he's entertained himself with. If he's not in a high emotion environment, he's full of energy!

Likes playing tag and hide and seek with the others. Sometimes forgets that he's much bigger than everyone, though, and may accidentally cause some booboos.

As a babysitter, he takes his job very seriously. Might not be as strict about meals or naps (definitely lets them just have as many sweets as they want), but will take tea parties and games very seriously.

📻 ~ Alastor ~ 📻

I know a lot of people like little Al but for personal reasons, he is a caregiver lol. He has too soothing a voice and mannerisms with Nifty for me to not harp on it.

Takes his little out to Overlord meetings or to visit Auntie Rosie. When they go see Rosie, she always has a new outfit for them, whether a onesie or full outfit, there's always something. At the Overlord meetings, he'll let them sit in his lap or between him and Rosie. The others don't mind bc I say so.

Alastor doesn't like touch he doesn't initiate, and you are no exception. That being said, if they find a way to pull on or play with his ears, the most he'll do is let out a long sigh before letting them continue.

Calls them a little Overlord. "Come now, little Overlord, it's time for bed." and "Little Overlord, what have I told you about sneaking up on others?" and the like.

I have the most thoughts about him but will keep this short for everyone's sakes

🧹 ~ Nifty ~ 🧹

A little. She has the biggest fluctuation though and will be either 2 or like 7, no in betweens.

Always has energy. She's bouncing off the walls. Because of this, Angel is the last person asked to take care of her because he'll give her candy and then she gets even worse. He's also a little cautious because of the one time he made her cry, but Nifty just kinda drifts over to him anyways.

Husk usually gets stuck looking after the lil bugger. It'll start as Alastor's problem, then he conveniently disappears and Vaggie gives her to "kitty" (it's not that they don't love her, they do, she's just a lot lol). I imagine little Nif and Husk have a similar dynamic to Boo and Sully in Monsters Inc.

The only way to get her to sleep is with radio static. The white noise calms her down. Bonus points if you give her a fluffy plush to hold as well.

🐱 ~ Husk ~ 🐱

Husk doesn't really like children, even of the regressing variety. It's not that he hates them, he'd just prefer to not have to interact with them as much as he can. The most he'll do is babysit, but even then he's a little clueless.

Tends to get stuck with Angel the most, but he prefers Nifty just because he's been around her the most over the years.

Has the bar stocked up with different juices and milk and other drinks for kids. Also has a wide variety of sippy cups with different themes for different littles. Charlie likes the ducky one, Angel has one with crabs on it, and Nifty's are all plain. Everyone uses the space themed ones, though, so he has the most of those.

He has a little nook under the bar that someone could use as a little hiding space as well. If the littles are playing hide and seek and someone goes down there, Husk is the last to snitch.

If you wanna see specific scenarios or hcs about certain characters, feel free to send in an ask!!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel agere #hazbin hotel age regression #sfw agre #sfw age regression #caregiver alastor #caregiver vaggie #little charlie #little nifty #little angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel vaggie

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crucifiedfaerie · 8 months

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Kylo Ren - NSFW Alphabet

18+ MDNI

— AFTERCARE (what are they like after sex?)

not even gonna front you guys... in the beginning of your relationship, kylo is terrible at aftercare. he has a hard time accepting the fact that he loves you because he doesn't want to seem weak, and if he took care of you that would mean he loved you?... right? he wants so badly to hold you but he forces himself to resist for a long time. when he does finally open up about his feelings though, he doesn't leave your side. he loves to play with your hair, give you kisses, and tell you how beautiful you look. you are simply a precious thing to him that he wouldn't dare take for granted again.

— BODY PART (what's their favorite body part on themselves and their partner?)

no matter how many times you tell kylo how beautiful he is, he is still super insecure about literally everything. it took a long time to convince him to even take his mask off. if he had to pick though, it would be his arms and hands which have been sculpted by years of lightsaber training. his favorite part of you however, is everything. BUUUUT if he HAD to pick, it would be your lips, he loves kissing you. kylo is also a thigh man and i stand by that statement. he's always grabbing them and when he's feeling extra soft, he loves to rest his head on them.

"i would happily die like this, you know?"

— CUM (anything to do with it)

whether he's being rough or gentle with you, even if he's edging you, you always cum before him, preferably multiple times. when it comes to him, he always prefers to cum inside you. the sight of you overstimulated, leaking with his cum is one of his favorite things.

— DIRTY SECRET

you could be doing the most mundane thing ever and kylo is hard. just the sight of you has him bricked up. luckily for him though, his dark uniform and robes hide it well.

— EXPERIENCE (how much sexual experience do they have?)

very little actually, but you'd never know it by how well that man fucks. it's like second nature to him, as if he could read your mind and know exactly what you want.

— FAVORITE POSITION

missionary and nobody can tell me otherwise !! he loves to be able to look into your eyes and watch as the pleasure overtakes you. he also loves to kiss you, trailing down your neck and leaving purple and red marks as he goes. kylo knows that the sweet sounds of your moans directly in his ear is the closest he'll ever get to heaven anyways.

"fuck- you look so beautiful like this my star."

— GOOFY (are they goofy or serious in the moment)

definitely serious. kylo is so enamored by you that he MUST focus on every detail. every moan, every whimper, every facial expression, every bead of sweat. all that matters to him is the pleasure he gives you and he pleasure he gets from you.

— HAIR (how well groomed are they? do they mind body hair?)

kylo always likes to keep tidy for you, its never completely clean shaven, but rather cut short. one time he shaved it completely, including his happy trail (one of your favorite parts of him) and you frowned at him so hard he vowed he'd never do it again LMAO. when it comes to you though, he doesn't care one bit what you do, he wants you in his bed regardless.

"how was i supposed to know you liked it that much?!"

— INTIMACY (how romantic are they?)

again, in the beginning of your relationship the romance stocks are LOW. you are his weakness and hes afraid of being weak... our babygirl is learning to have emotions, pls be patient with him. when he finally opens up though, he worships the ground you walk on... you're literally his everything.

— JACKING OFF

kylo and his right hand know each other very well. before you, he didn't seek out relationships with anyone, so he found himself finding release alone quite often. he doesn't do it so much now that he's found you, but if he's on a mission and has to leave you at starkiller for two weeks, best believe he will lock himself in the cockpit of his command shuttle and jack off thinking of all the things he's gonna do to you when he gets home.

— KINK (their favorite kinks)

when kylo is being rough, that man is a sadist. seeing you whine in pain makes his cock twitch, and his brain go fuzzy. he also has a slight blood kink and i stand by that wholeheartedly. don't worry though, the second you guys are done he's a completely different person, tending to your every need and kissing every mark he left on your perfect skin.

"i didn't hurt you too badly, did i?"

— LOCATION (their favorite place to fuck)

kylo ren is a jealous, jealous man and doesn't usually like risking the chance of someone else seeing you the way only he gets to. although, occasionally in the heat of the moment he will pull you into the nearest supply closet or refresher to have you.

— MOTIVATION (what turns them on?)

you in general. there is this insatiable, carnal need he has for you, and he's had it since the moment he laid eyes on you. something you do though, that never fails to turn him on, is when you act like a brat— he no longer has control over his body or actions at that point.

"oh you are so going to regret saying that."

— NO (what won't they do?)

kylo will never share you with anyone else. ive seen a lot of fics where kylo shares the reader with hux or the knights of ren and guys !!! guys ! there's no way in hell he's doing that !!!!! kylo is jealous, possessive, and would kill anyone that even had a mere thought about you in a sexual way.

— ORAL (giving, receiving, skill level)

when kylo is being rough, he loves facefucking. the sounds of your futile attempts to get air are so intoxicating to him. also that man is a munch !!! he drinks you up like water and he does it for so long, with so much skill, that you're seeing white-hot stars by the time he's through with you. if you start squirming too much, he uses the force to keep you in place.

"stop fucking moving, i'm not done with you."

— PACE

kylo fucks hard and deep. that man is going to the hilt, and he doesn't care if you think he's too big, hearing you say that only makes him want to go harder. if he hasn't had you in weeks, his pace is fast, as if hes acting in desperation. other times though, he likes to take his time with you and savor every moment.

"shhh sweet thing, we'll make it fit."

— QUICKIES

he doesn't mind them. sometimes the heat of the moment calls for them, but he would much prefer to take his sweet, sweet time with you.

— RISK (do they like to experiment?)

kylo is a kinky mf and is willing to try almost anything.

— STAMINA (how many rounds can they go?)

all of that rigorous training pays off in places other than battle. kylo can go multiple rounds and not feel fatigued. he loves watching you get increasingly more overstimulated, only stopping once you've begged enough to his liking.

"you want me to stop? i dont know little star, i think you can cum one more time."

— TOYS (their opinion? do they use them?)

are sex toys canon in star wars ?? LMAO... if they are, he doesn't mind them, nor does he see them as competition. he knows you much prefer his use of the force on your clit anyways.

— UNFAIR (how much do they like to tease?)

kylo loves to tease you. one of his favorite things to do to you is edge you, and gods help you if you cum before he gives you permission to.

"don't you dare cum before i tell you to."

— VOLUME (how loud are they?)

kylo doesn't hold back on the moans, especially when he's nearing his release. he will start whispering sweet nothings and strings of profanities in your ear as he cums inside of you.

"Shit- I'm- fuck- you feel s-so good. FUCK."

— WILD CARD (free headcanon)

in the beginning of your relationship, he was constantly fighting the urge to tell you he loved you while he was deep inside you. now he says it all the time, always making sure to remind you as you come undone underneath him.

"go ahead, little star. cum for me. yes just like that, gods- i love you."

— X RAY (what do they have going on underneath their clothes?)

after you've removed his MULTIPLE layers of clothing, his build is revealed to be lean and muscular. also lets be real... that man is tall and has big hands so— we're talking about like at least 6.5 inches, very girthy, slightly curved to the left, tip hex code is- (my lawyers have advised me not to continue)

— YEARNING (how high is their sex drive?)

kylo ren is a caged animal... that man wants to fuck you every moment he can get his hands on you.

— ZZZZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

you always fall asleep before he does, and for the first few months of your relationship, you were convinced he didn't sleep... like ever. after he became more vulnerable with you though, he would sleep around you. the first time you had woken up before him and saw him asleep you smiled and played with his hair, noticing how you'd never seen him so calm.

#kylo ren #ben solo #star wars #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #star wars x reader #star wars sequel trilogy #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker

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otomestatus · 5 months

Note

Hello hi.

Any headcanons with Hakkai that has a tall gf (as tall as him)?

And he's also hidding his relationship from the gang because he doesn't want her to get involded with all that, but Takashi finds out and spills tea.

hello!! this was actually such a cute request i got really excited when i read it and immediately started brain storming LMFAO i wrote a lot more than??? i anticipated???

you gotta be in this for the LONG HAUL because we all know how nervous hakkai gets around girls. yuzuha is definitely the wingman in this situation at first without intentionally trying to be

i personally think hakkai would have a thing for tall girls and that isn’t to say he wouldn’t date someone who is short because what matters the most to him is that you both love each other and support each other, but i can definitely see the fact you’re tall being a bonus to him. and he especially loves that you’re the same height as him.

you wanna wear heels? don’t matter to him because he wants you feeling happy and confident.

if you’re someone who is insecure in your height, he likes to encourage you to do things you normally wouldn’t because of your height even though you’ve always wanted to.

you might be the same height as him, but his clothes still fit a little big on you too.

he’s always telling you that you could model and he’s surprised you haven’t tried to and he admits MAYBEEEE he’s a little bias but you’re also just so gorgeous. a total package

the only person who really knows about you two is yuzuha and it’s because it would be next to impossible keeping something like a girlfriend a secret from her, but she respects that hakkai doesn’t want anyone in toman to know. she’s incredibly amused that he isn’t even telling takashi even though it seemed like that would be the first thing he would’ve done

he makes time for you as much as he can because you make him smile like no other and there’s relief to be found in your presence

you honestly didn’t think twice about keeping your relationship extremely private because he’s always so attentive. he makes mistakes along the way and sometimes there are moments where you feel a little weird and insecure, but he tries his absolute best.

it’s definitely not going to be a forever thing either. keeping your relationship a secret is just temporary. he wants to know there is no chance you’ll end up getting hurt because of what he does with toman.

there were a few instances where you two were out on a date and had to hide really quickly because he spotted someone from toman. it always felt really silly and funny and there was a sort of thrill to sneaking around like that like you were playing hide and seek.

luckily you never have to worry about girls flirting with him when he’s with his friends because he’s just not gonna talk to them or look at them. or probably even breathe near them because they make him anxious.

he talks a lot about his toman friends to you though so you learn about them through osmosis. especially about takashi and takemichi. sometimes when you’re out with your friends or alone shopping you’ll recognize one of the major members he spoke about, but it’s not often. it is a little funny that you know them and they have no idea who you are. you feel like some sort of undercover agent.

HOWEVER, your relationship cannot escape takashi for long. you both had a good run for awhile there, but something is off. something is just not quite right and takashi cannot put his mf finger on it.

it all starts when he comes over to drop something off that hakkai forgot at his house the other night. only supposed to be a short little errand and yuzuha lets him because this is the most normal thing in the world. he attempted to meet up with hakkai first but he was being very adamant about not meeting him and just having yuzuha grab it for him. that was the first alarm bell.

what takashi didn’t need to know was that you both had planned out a date that day and would be out most of the day.

takashi asks yuzuha why hakkai was being weird and even showed her the messages, but yuzuha ain’t spilling shit. she keeps it casual. she’s telling him hakkai is always weird. so takashi hits her with the “where is he” and she’s trying not to sweat. what the fuck does she say… girl is maintaining eye contact, she’s not snitching, but she’s gotta come up with smth QUICK

“bowling.” yeah that sounds about right

takashi accepts this answer, but he knows something isn’t right. however…ain’t his business right?

that is until he steps into hakkai’s room to drop the item on his bed and LEAVE ( he does not leave ). there’s something in hakkai’s room that just…confirms his suspicion that something IS suspicious

there’s an earring on the floor. AN EARRING. it could be yuzuha’s, but why would it be? something is telling him it’s not

next time he sees hakkai he’s trying to see if he can subtly get some information out of him. he’s asking where he was the other day and blah blah blah. doesn’t mention the earring. hakkai seems to have his alibi all planned out though because he’s answering these questions easily. he was not gonna let takashi catch him slipping

he offhandedly mentions the earring to draken and draken isn’t entirely convinced it could belong to anyone BUT yuzuha because they’ve all seen how he acts with girls. draken jokes pigs would fly before hakkai manages to get a girlfriend. takashi isn’t convinced though. the math ain’t mathin.

however he gets a break in the case when he’s out grocery shopping. you, unfortunately, also happen to be there because you’re picking out snacks for the at home movie night date you planned with hakkai that evening. you’re both in the same aisle and out of the corner of his eye he notices something familiar. it’s the mf earring.

now this isn’t damning evidence by any means. lots of girls probably have the same pair, but the coincidence has him shook.

you, on the other hand, had recognized him IMMEDIATELY and you’re currently sweating your ass off right now because you have to act casual but this is takeshi mitsuya. this is the guy your boyfriend talks about who also doesn’t know about you just yet. you just wanted to have a peaceful and quick shopping trip but his presence is just so overwhelming

takashi takes this moment to compliment your earrings. you hesitate even answering, in fact, you stumble of your words a little trying to get out that thank you. and just so you don’t seem weird or awkward you add in the little fact that you had thought you lost one of them last week until your boyfriend returned it.

now THAT feels like damning evidence, but not quite. there’s nothing totally concrete, but he is feeling 100% confident that his suspicions are correct because thats too much of a coincidence. hakkai shinba has a mf girlfriend and he’s going to confirm this one way or another.

he’s sharing all this with draken (who doesn’t believe him) and mikey (who doesn’t know what’s going on) and he knows this sounds like a conspiracy theory BUT GUYS— HEY GUYS HEAR HIM OUT

meanwhile you and hakkai are blissfully unaware of all this happening. you do tell him about running into takashi at the grocery store and hakkai just kinda laughs about it. you both joke about how takashi ran into you, his girlfriend, and just had no idea about it. was completely clueless.

i know you’re all wondering when does takashi finally figure it out… and it‘s pretty anticlimactic. he spots you two before you even have the chance to spot him. you’re both at a cafe just chillin and takashi is walking by with his sisters and everything finally starts to fucking click. he’s getting the full picture.

actually he is quick to take a quick picture and send it to draken and gloat about how he was actually right all this time.

next toman captains meeting is intense. hakkai has no clue that just about all of them know about you now. he’s walking in blissfully unaware. takashi had spent a lot of time filling the guys in about how hakkai has a girlfriend and she’s as tall as him and really pretty ( these are boys we know that was a question that was asked ). honestly they were all shocked to find out he managed to get a girlfriend because he malfunctions when a girl even breathes near him.

mikey does not hesitate bringing it up. they’re all tryna be sneaky about it and make him nervous, but mikey is straight up like, “so, how’s your girlfriend!”

that’s when hakkai’s blood runs fucking cold. they’re all staring at him smirking and shit and he’s like oh fuck they know

regardless they are all impressed and congratulate him on finding someone because they didn’t think he had it in him.

#tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers x reader #hakkai shiba x reader #hakkai x reader #hakkai shiba x you #hakkai shiba imagines

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