#SHE CAN JUST KEEP ME LOCKED UP IN HER ROOM WITH HER IF IT MAKES IT EASIER I DONT MIND AT ALL<3<3<3
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down bad | j. potter
summary: you're so in love with james potter but he's a little too good at giving you mixed signals that it might actually ruin you
pairing: james potter x reader
warnings: angst, a little fluff if u squint, and so much longing & yearning. omg so much of it
a/n: i am unfortunately completely obsessed with taylor swift's new album, so everything i'll write in the near future will be based on one of the ttpd songs (yey!) & this one's based on 'down bad.' feel free to send requests if u want pick the next song for me x
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"So he just said no?" Mary all but hisses. Marlene shushes her, glancing around the classroom before leaning down from where she's sitting on your desk.
"Are you sure it didn't mean something else?" She rests her hand on yours. "Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. He wouldn't…he just wouldn't, right?" You smile weakly at her, then shake your head. She squeezes your hand.
"The note was pretty clear," you say with a soft sigh. The sentence rolls off your tongue with unhidden bitterness. "Sorry, can't. Need to catch up on some assignments."
You would show it to them, so they could see for themselves and maybe divert their sympathetic gazes from you. But you had set it on fire right after reading it, just like the other two notes friendly rejecting you. You still aren't sure why you did it. After all, you did just tell Mary and Marlene that you're fine. At least you will be. You should not be this devastated over some guy.
Even if that guy is James Potter.
James who is now strolling into the room with his mates, looking as invincible and full of life as he always has and always will.
Quickly, you force a smile at the girls and pull out the chair next to you. Marlene, bless her, gets the hint and lightly shoves Mary's shoulder to have her take the seat. You're going through your book bag, pulling out your inkwell when four bodies make their way past your desk.
"Ladies," comes Sirius cheerfully loud voice as he bows at the waist because, of course, he does. Peter and Remus aren't as dramatic with their greetings. The latter, however, does take the time to slow down in front of you until you look up and return his kind smile. Belatedly, you realise perhaps you shouldn't have done that. You lock eyes with James, who's right behind him.
He sends you an easy smile and a wink. Like he's letting you in on another one of his rare secrets. You're not sure if you're smiling back, but it's almost a given that you are.
He takes his seat behind you, laughing blithely at a joke Pete just told, and it's all so painfully charming that you want to die. You fear he will always make you feel like this. Like you're somehow the chosen one. It's such a sickening feeling, you can't help but whip around and look at Mary, pleadingly. Though, you're not sure what you're pleading for anymore.
She shoots you another unbearably sympathetic smile, looking like she's close to cooing at you. You sigh, hiding your face in the crook of your arms.
You can't help but think how easy it would be to just cry right here. It's embarrassing to admit, but you've done it plenty of times over the weekend after you had seen James out at Hogsmeade with the others. Miserably, you had realised that he was, in fact, not too busy working on his assignments. He just didn't want to spend time with you.
You almost let out a sob.
A hand rubs your back and you know it can only be Mary, but you let yourself believe that it's the universe consoling you, as if to say there, there because there's nothing fair about this and she knows it, but there's nothing she can do it about now, can she?
History of Magic passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're in the library, pouring all of yourself into an essay that you normally couldn't have cared less for. But you're willing to do whatever it takes to keep yourself busy. You know your thoughts will stray the moment you're lying quietly in bed anyway, awaiting another sleepless night.
You finish the sentence and look up, satisfied with your work. Apparently it's been a while since you've torn your gaze away from the parchment before you, seeing how stiff your neck is. You knead at the uncomfortable knot in your shoulder while looking around the library. It's relatively full today with every other seat being taken.
Which makes it all the more irritating when your gaze snatches on a figure sat at the other table right across from you. He's not even looking up, head bent over a book, but you would recognise that mop of unruly dark curls anywhere. James must've seen you when he came in, but that might have just been your hopeful self speaking.
Begrudgingly, you resume your writing and it takes everything in you not to look up every few minutes. To glimpse the slight furrow in his brows and the small pout of his lips as he's carefully reading every paragraph. You know he's likely looking for something to prepare for a prank. Normally, you would simply go over and ask him what he's up to. You know he'd happily tell you. But you're glad to have at least a little bit of pride and dignity left that keeps you rooted in your spot.
Seemingly not enough though since all you can think about is that there's no way he doesn't know that you're right there. It really does make you want to bang your head against the table. Maybe that would finally catch James' attention.
Pathetically, you glance at him only to notice that he's packing his things to leave. The tip of your feather goes back to the parchment so fast, it almost pierces it. You haven't got a clue what you're writing, too busy tracking James' movements from the corner of your eyes.
You watch him stand up, walking down the length of his table towards the door down the hall on his right. Then he stops. You hold your breath. James seemingly hesitates before fixing the strap of his bag on his shoulder. He turns left and walks towards you. You're staring at your hand as it writes illegible words, completely out of your control, when you feel a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey," James whispers when you look up, giving you a familiar grin and small wave. It's an innocent gesture, sweet, but there's almost something hostile about this encounter. Like you have no choice but to let him occupy every single one of your senses. You stare up at him, a matching smile sweeping over your lips before you can think better of it.
That's when you notice the scarf he's wearing and its frizzled ends. It's yours. You know it is.
Did he not give it back to you after one of your nights out together on the stands? After you had flown on your brooms, so close to the sea of stars that you could've dipped your fingertips in them? You could almost hear the echoes of your windblown laughters as the memory pushes itself into the foreground of your mind.
James is sitting still, rosy-cheeked, watching you with curious eyes while you babble on about the Leo constellation. He had just told you that you could do whatever you want to him—another quite maddening thing to casually say to someone—and now he's apparently keen on staying true to his word by letting you wrap your scarf around his neck.
It took some convincing before he'd finally accepted it from you. You promised that you wouldn't be cold with your high collared sweater, but James only gave in when you had accepted his wool hat in exchange.
He had carefully put it on you, smoothing down your hair and pulling out some loose strands to frame your face, mumbling something about how much lovelier his hat looked on you than on him. You told yourself that he surely must've known what it did to you when his knuckles brushed your cheeks. Right? Surely.
James pokes your side, chuckling, as if he sensed that your mind was drifting elsewhere. He cracks another joke, saying that if you were the one to teach him Astronomy, he might actually pay attention in class. He says it like it's a deal and you feel inclined to do whatever it takes to hold up your side of the bargain.
You laugh helplessly, feeling drunk on a little bit of everything; the stars above, James' gentle laughter, the familiar smell of broom wax and crisp winter air. This must be cosmic love, you think to yourself. Your breath clouds in front of you, becoming one with his. All the while, you're too aware of James' shoulder bumping into you, his leg pressed against yours. There's no one out here but you two.
You have all the room in the world, but James chose to sit this close to you. Probably close enough for him to hear your heart pounding. Did he do it for a reason? You'd love to know.
"You don't need me to pay attention in Astronomy," you find yourself saying in response, something daring laced in the drawl of your voice. His eyes flash, bright and a bit wild. It's the same look he gets after you challenge him to a race on your brooms. His grin grows wide, carefree, and oh so lovely.
"Please." His face comes impossibly closer and you lean in without another thought, eager to take whatever it is James will give you. You feel his breath on your lips.
"I will always need you, Y/N."
Somehow he makes it sound genuine.
Then he winks and leaves you a horrid, forsaken mess. Somehow he makes that feel like a nice gesture too.
Incredulously, you stare at him as he leans back, elbows resting on the seats behind him. James Potter, you think weakly, what are you doing to me? Not for the first time you ponder what you would do if you can't have him. You almost double over from the striking pain in your chest.
Then he points out another constellation and you nearly forget all about yourself. He's good at that. Never ceasing to show you that the world is bigger than the two of you. Making you forget and remember that you might be in love. Because what if you were in love?
James cups the back of his neck, then points towards the door of the library, almost shyly letting you know that he's leaving. You nod slowly, still dazed. A small smile crosses his lips before you watch him round the corner, his back disappearing from your sight.
You blink, letting out a ragged breath. You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. Like you just lost your twin. Someone who knows you like no one else ever will. Someone who might just be your better half. Someone who sometimes makes you feel like they want nothing to do with you.
It's ridiculous, you think bleakly to yourself, you're so down bad.
And James Potter makes it feel like a curse and a blessing.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#marauders fanfiction#marauders#taylor swift#ttpd#the tortured poets department
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🐰 — awkward
summary: just a professor!jackie blurb :P no smut
you knock on jackie's door, ruffling your hair in the glass to make it look presentable. you sigh out - you're so nervous. you really hope no one notices you in this part of the neighborhood, it wouldn't look good if someone caught you at your professor's house. not that you're coming here for a bad reason, but still, it'd be awkward. and it doesn't help that maybe you've been hooking up with jackie for the past couple of months, too.
you straighten up as you hear her fumble with the lock, putting on your best smile as she opens the door.
"oh, hello," someone that's not jackie greets you, and your smile falters for a second. "you must be sea, come on in."
you nod awkwardly and follow this mystery woman inside. you have no idea who she is. maybe jackie has a friend over? you wish she would've told you - you would've tried to dress nicer. the woman leads you to the kitchen table, telling you that you can place the wine you brought on the table.
"i'm shauna, by the way." she gives you a tight-lipped smile and you fumble with a piece of lose thread on your shirt, looking around the house. "jackie's wife."
your eyes widen and your heart sinks. what? jackie never mentioned anything about having a wife, especially when you were with her. just as you were about to respond, jackie comes sauntering into the room, smiling at the both of you. she claps her hands together and comes up besides shauna, giving her a kiss on the cheek that makes your stomach flip.
"you two already met each other, goodie!" she cheers, and you notice a slight apologetic look in her eyes as she brushes past you. "i'm sorry i couldn't be the one to let you in, i was getting ready."
"i thought i got the wrong house." you joke, chuckling lightly and running your hand through your hair as you sit down in one of the dining room chairs. "you, uh, you never mentioned that you had a wife…" you mumble, hoping it doesn't sound too much like disappointment.
"i like to keep things private between me and shauna." jackie responds.
maybe a little too private, you think.
"why don't you help me in the kitchen?" she asks you suddenly, changing the topic. "i'm sure shauna can taste test that wine for us in the meantime."
you glance over at shauna who nods and eagerly opens the bottle, pouring herself a glass of wine before heading to the living room. you agree, sheepishly following jackie into the kitchen area and closing the door behind you. you watch as she makes herself busy with preparing the ingredients, humming to herself.
"what the fuck, jackie?" you whisper-yell, coming up to stand beside her. "why didn't you tell me you had a wife? this makes everything so much more complicated!"
"i know, i know." she brushes her hair out of her face, turning towards you with a pout. she grabs your hands, bringing them up to her mouth to kiss. "i should've told you, i'm sorry. are we…can we still do this?" she gestures between you and her, looking at you with her big, wide eyes, which you can never resist.
sighing, you roll your eyes and nod.
"i guess." a smile breaks out, and you freak out a little when she brings you in for a kiss. "b-but not here! i don't wanna get murdered by shauna."
jackie continues to kiss down your neck, shoving you against the counter. your eyes flutter closed but you try to push her away, biting your lip as she licks by your ear. "why not? doesn't that make it hotter?"
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HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)
(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)
Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader
Word Count: 2,499 words
Warnings: None
Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance.
You reluctantly agree.
read on ao3 | read on quotev
DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH
Estranged husband — 1
Estranged wife — 1
Everything left unsaid — as desired
There’s bacon grease on his shirt.
You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.
It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.
“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.
“When can I see you again?”
“I don’t know.”
Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”
Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –
You smile, regardless.
“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.
You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.
“Oh, boy.”
“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”
Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.
“I’m sorry too.”
As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.
“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”
“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”
“Well … that too.”
“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.
You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.
“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”
“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”
“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.
Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.
“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”
The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”
Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.
“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”
You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”
There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.
Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”
“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.
As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.
“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”
Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”
She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”
You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.
“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”
Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”
“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”
While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.
You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.
—
A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.
“Mama, I found a man for you!”
“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”
“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”
Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”
“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”
“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”
She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”
“Maybe.”
“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”
“Maybe he just moved here.”
She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)
“Positive.”
It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”
Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
—
The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.
You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.
And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.
Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.
Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.
Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.
Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.
“You came,” he says.
“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”
He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”
“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”
“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.
You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.
Those scheming …
“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”
His head snaps up. “Going? But –”
You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.
Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.
(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)
You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.
Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?
The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.
You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.
“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”
“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.
“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”
“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”
Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.
You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.
“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”
He stops you before you can step out into the rain.
“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.
This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.
Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.
“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”
Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”
Ah.
You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”
Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.
It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.
You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.
“… Give me a week.”
His entire body loses its tension.
“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.
“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”
Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”
You nod back, hesitant.
The rain continues its heavy downpour.
“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”
“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”
With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.
You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#dunmeshi#chilchuck tims x reader#chilchuk tims#chilchuck x reader#chilchuck#dungeon meshi fanfiction#reader insert#fem!reader#my emotional support middle-aged divorced father of three.......#throw this guy in a childhood friends to lovers to estranged lovers to lovers fic and see how he handles it#chilchuck's wife!reader let's gooooo
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Can I get a uhhhhhh laios with a guy/gn reader who has an equally autistic special interest in general biology and ecosystems that would 100% encompass monsters as well? Asking for a friend that just happens to be me (stg idk if I wanna smooch laios or be him tbh lmao)
an: though i haven’t written for an autistic yn, i’ll try to make it realistic. if i’d done something wrong, please tell me. i focused more on general dungeon ecology for y/n.
if marcille is studying about dungeon ecosystems while laios is more interested in monsters you would be the best of both worlds.
there’s just something thrilling about dungeon ecology, how it all interacts, every thing that fall under it and so on and so forth.
you’re a tall-man researcher, using every bit of your time to find out more about dungeons, and not just the ones in melini. it would have been good to join the magic academy, but since you don’t posses any talent for magic, you can’t enter.
it made you sad since they had a dungeon making class.
nevertheless, it won’t stomp your dreams of researching! you’ve read and copied countless of books you can get your hands on. eventually you settled in meleni where a newly discovered dungeon was found.
your room was filled with countless of journals, trinkets from dungeons and volumes of books you read many time before.
and on your first dungeon party, you were very ecstatic. too bad you had to leave because they’d only go to the easier upper floors. you wanted to head to the lowest level after all!
and that’s where you meet up with the touden party!
you will love marcille’s vast dungeon knowledge. she would love to teach you new things. much to chilchuck’s dismay, you have boosted her ego. endless praises for marcille and simply doting around her because she’s filled with knowledge.
“ah, long lifespans are so great. i’d spend all my life dedicating to dungeon ecology if i could” -y/n after every lecture apparently.
then monster facts with laios will be endless. he lent you his dungeon food guide and you surprisingly have a copy too! you took notes from the things he had written in the margin. much to chilchuck’s demise (again) both you and laios keep on talking and he can’t sleep :((
“eating monsters? can’t say i have thought about it, but do you ever think about their nutritional values? the high level of mana concentration must vary from non-dungeon born same species! This needed to be compared and studied!” -y/n when laios introduced his monster eating thoughts.
toshiro will have another person to ask about his life in the east. but he likes how you keep more time to yourself writing in the journals. he finds your drawing to be artistic. after seeing your difficulties with papers, toshiro will teach you about yotsume toji—a book binding process from his country. he’s happy to see you using it after he taught you.
though you won’t talk with namari much, you admire he strength as a dwarf. she keeps her past to herself, which you at least respect. but you’d talk about the different weapons used and other things she did as a blacksmith. her knowledge on materials is very handy. you write about the different dungeon materials on your journal along with the best weapons against monsters.
chilchuck, our lock expert, and the most unknown member of your party… you admire his knowledge on traps and have written about his experiences with various dungeon traps and ways of disarming them.
falin, she joins you as you ask questions to marcille or laios. she listens to you talk about your dungeon experiences and she tells you about her’s. you let her read the journals you made along the way.
On the day falin was eaten by the dragon, your journal wasn’t transported with you. So now, you join laios to rescue his sister and to save you journals!!
Request? Open!
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The Manor
modern!aegon x neice!reader
A/N: this is based off a short little blurb i did the other day. just thought i'd make it into smth more
WARNINGS: SMUT!!, DUBCON!, incest, exhibitionism perhaps, pervy aegon
WORD COUNT: 1,468 words
There’s nothing you hate more than family gatherings. It’s a pity really because you know you would enjoy them if it wasn’t for one thing… your uncle. Aegon torments you endlessly. It started small when you were younger, tugging on your braids like a schoolboy. Now, it’s the way his touches linger. He gets more and more reckless with each graze… each grope. Your brothers could see, his mother could see if only they looked close enough.
It’s your grandfather’s birthday today, a summertime celebration that you resent because it means a whole weekend spent at the manor and Aegon loves nothing more than a tantalizing, off-limits girl in a sundress.
“You wouldn’t deny your favourite uncle a hug, would you?” He says with a smirk as you walk up the steps. Your step-grandmother is oblivious as she beckons you over.
“Family greets each other with hugs!” She encourages, pulling you into her soft embrace before pushing you into his.
Filthy arms snake around your waist and you hate how your body leans into his. You hate how good it feels when his hand slips up your dress to give your ass a sneaky squeeze, fingertips just barely grazing your clothed pussy. You try not to gasp as you push him away, glaring at him for his perversion.
“So good to see you, little niece.” He gives you a wolfish grin before letting you walk away, if only so he can watch you go.
~~~
You get into your bikini after unpacking, wanting to soak in that hot summer sun before it sets. You venture outside to the pool just to see that you’re the only one there as Daeron and Helaena are down by the beach and your dumbass brothers are probably napping after the long car ride. As for Aemond, who knows what he’s up to. You walk over to a sunchair and lay your towel on it as he sneaks up behind you. You feel the ties of your bikini top undo with one swift motion.
You whip around. “Aegon, you bastard!” You grab the sides of your top to keep yourself covered but that only gives him the chance to tug down your bottoms.
“Ohh someone’s keeping herself well groomed for me.” He muses as you pull them back up and shove him away.
“Keep your hands away from me, perv!”
“If you want my hands off then why did you shave your pussy bare for me?” He smirks, stalking closer to you as you back away.
“Who said it’s for you?” You snark back.
That comment pisses him off a bit and he grabs your arm to pull you back to him. “Yeah? Like you’re fucking someone.” He pushes his hand down the front of your bottoms. “Not when you’re this wet for me.”
“I hate you.” You squirm out of his hold but he still sends you off with a harsh smack on the ass as you storm away.
“Sure you do, sweetheart!”
You make your way to your room, locking your door and changing out of your bathing suit and into a short sundress so you aren’t lounging in swimwear.
Gods, maybe he’s right about you doing things for him. If you were so disgusted by his advances then you would probably want to drown yourself in clothing, rather than dress yourself in such a tiny garment. And more than anything, you wait around for him, eventually falling into a mid-day slumber.
You’re awoken by the feeling of gentle fingertips gliding up and down your navel before fluttering across your collarbones. When your eyes finally open, taking their time because of how groggy you feel, you’re greeted by the sight of him with a hand down his boxers as he strokes his cock, looking as divine as a fucking god. This is when you notice that the bust of your milkmaid dress has been untied to reveal your pert breasts. You say nothing as you flinch away like a spooked mare, only glaring at Aegon with ire in your eyes.
“You were so peaceful when you were sleeping and now you had to go ahead and ruin it.” He gazes at you with such lustful hunger.
“You like to prey on sleeping girls?”
“I like to prey on you.”
“I’ll scream.”
“Nobody’s home… and I like it when you put up a little fight.”
He gives you a little smirk before lunging at you. You slip off the bed but you’re not on the side of the room with the door so there’s nowhere to run. He backs you into a corner but just watches for a moment, wanting to make you antsy. His lack of action makes you take your chance and you try to bolt past him but he just grabs you around the waist. You swing around him slightly but his hold is firm. Both of his hands snake around your struggling body from behind, his left holding your upper torso all the way up to cup your right breast and his right sliding up your skirt.
“You’re fucking sick. I’m your niece.” You spit out at him.
“You’re just as sick as I am.”
You struggle in his grasp but that doesn’t stop him from getting a firm hold on your panties. He tugs on them and you whimper at the slight pain-pleasure as he uses the fabric to rub against your clit.
“Aegon, stop.” You whine breathlessly as he manoeuvres the garment around to start pleasuring you.
“Give in.” He kisses at your neck. “I know you want to. You’re not saving face for anyone but yourself.” He whispers into your ear.
“Fuck you.” You murmur but it just feels so good.
“You will, whether you’d like to or not. Just give in.”
You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s wrong but you tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder giving him better access to your neck.
“Good girl.”
He starts nipping and sucking at your soft skin even harder now as he unzips your dress. You’re only in your panties now as he shoves you back onto your bed, his lips immediately moving to kiss your supple breasts.
“Such nice tits, baby. Maybe i’ll have a turn fucking them after I split open that tight cunt.” He chuckles as your slight shudder and then rips off your panties so he can bury his face in your pussy.
You can hardly think of how to react as he devours you with such fervour. Aegon has been waiting forever for this moment; he couldn’t keep his eyes off you since you flowered and he eagerly wants to taste you. He wants you to fall apart on his tongue, and then his cock.
And so you do. Your high washes over you like you’ve never felt before. That sick feeling that has created a pit in your stomach only makes it hit even harder.
“Mmm, Aegon.” You whine, fingers tangled in his ivory locks. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.
He’s over you, pumping his length already before you’ve even had a chance to recover.
“Use a condom.” You pout, legs spread wide for him.
“Little brats don’t tell their uncles what to do.”
Your eyes widen and you can’t even move to stop him before he’s speared himself inside of you. His mouth is pressed to yours and he swallows all your protests before they can leave your lips. He kisses you with the same fervour that he ate you with as he fucks into you roughly.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He says after breaking the kiss, wanted a good look at your face as he ruins you.
“It’s too much.” You complain.
“Don’t be such a whiner.” He rolls his eyes and lifts your legs to push you into a mating press. If it was too much before, then it’s surely too much now as he somehow hits even deeper.
“Ah ah…” You let out little whimpers at the feeling of being filled so completely.
“God’s, never felt a pussy this tight. Knew you were saving yourself for me, baby.” He says cockily.
You can’t even form a retort, not with how cock-drunk you are from him pistioning his dick in and out of you. All you can think of is how close you are.
“I-I’m gonna cum.”
“Already? Didn’t realize you were such a little slut after only one little taste.”
He talks a lot of talk but once he feels your walls clenching around him, he’s done for. He only manages to get a few more hard thrusts in, fucking you through your high, before he finishes inside you.
Once you come down from your peak, you realize what he’s done.
“Seven Hells, Aegon. Did you just cum inside me?”
taglist(comment to be added): General: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33
#aegon targaryen smut#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen smut#aegon smut#aegon targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#hotd#hotd smut
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Kidnapped by the Boss Part 7
Hey guys! Sorry it's been like a million years since I updated anything! I got burned out for a while and I'm slowly getting back to it. Hopefully with summer break looming, you'll see more of me!
Synopsis: Civilian is a secretary to the Prime Minster. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.
Part one here
Part six here
"What is this?”
It looked harmless, a small metal rectangular wrist band with no buttons or engraving or adornment of any kind. She didn’t trust it, regardless, not that that mattered to Rook, who kept his explanations to himself as he grabbed her hand. She tried to jerk it back, but his grip turned bruising and iron tight as he latched it shut.
It hugged tightly on her, a nearly imperceptible hum against her skin. Only a tiny seam remained on the bottom, with no button or latch or catch to open it.
“What is it?” she demanded, swallowing down a flutter of panic.
Rook rolled his eyes. “Relax, princess. It’s just a tracker.”
“A tracker?”
“Yeah. Consider it your freedom. Now you can go anywhere you want and no one has to worry about you slipping out to somewhere you shouldn’t be.”
She gave him an appraising look. “Are you going to come fetch me if I go somewhere I shouldn’t?”
“No. I’m just going to push a button and an electric current will take you out until someone finds you.”
He gazed back, utterly impassive, and Val couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare her or not. She refused to be cowed though.
“How strong of a current are we talking about?” she asked
A smirk spread slowly across his face. “Why don’t you get near an airport and find out? If it doesn’t kill you, then you’ll have your answer.”
Val jut her chin up, meeting his smirk with a glare. “Do you get a kick out of trying to make me afraid? Does it make you feel tough?”
He snorted and stepped closer to her. She stood stock still as he linked their arms together.
“You’re in enemy territory, Val,” he murmured, ducking his head down close to her ear, like he was sharing a secret. “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
The corner of his mouth lifted up. “My king wants you down for lunch in his office. I’ll show you the way.”
The king’s office looked much the same as it did when he was Eugene the Prime Minister. Papers scattered in random piles, post it notes scribbled with cryptic notes only he understood. Reminders taped on walls, the desk, the door.
A table was cleared off, the papers clearly dumped on the desk. A spread of soup and sandwiches sat on it, the king sitting in one of the chairs, waiting. Val was hit with a pang of nostalgia, because this set up looked exactly like the ones they had during campaign season. She didn’t know if he did it deliberately or if this was just how he ran his life.
“Afternoon, Val,” he said with a smile. “I see you have your tracker now.”
“And potential execution device,” she added dryly.
He shrugged. “Only a stupid person would need to worry about the electric shock and you are not stupid.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
He smiled again, ignoring her sarcasm. “Have a seat.”
She reluctantly joined him and helped herself to a sandwich, knowing this whole charade was just to watch her eat. Rook did not join them, preferring to lean against the wall next to the king. It felt a little unnerving to eat under both of their stares but she knew there’d be hell to pay if she didn’t.
And she had to admit, the food was painfully delicious.
“You now control the lock on your door,” the king said (Aris? It still didn’t feel right but neither did Eugene). “You may stay or leave your room as you please. All unlocked areas of the castle are open to you, as well as the grounds. If you wish to head into the city, Rook will escort you.”
Rook’s mouth fell open in outrage. “You cannot be serious! I babysit her enough as it is and you want me to take her out for ice cream and shopping? Who is protecting you while I run bullshit errands with her?”
“Hey! Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I have a shopping addiction,” she snapped.
“Like you wouldn’t jump at the chance to blow all the king’s treasury just to fuck us over.”
“What the hell am I going to be buying to drain it — a super yacht?”
“Children, please.” The king — Aris — held up a hand. “It’s not an ideal situation for any of us, but the two of you will have to give each other a little faith.”
Val and Rook let out twin snorts of derision and then shot each other matching glares.
“As I was saying,” Aris said with a warning look, “you have been given a probationary amount of freedom, Val.”
“Probationary?” So this was temporary?
“Yes. Your privileges will change depending on your actions. If you stay obedient, prove yourself, then you freedoms will grow. If you try to circumvent your restrictions, you will lose your freedoms and live in a cell much less cozy than the rooms I’ve given you.”
Obedient. Like a toddler. Like a dog.
Not for the first time did helpless rage well up in her throat like acid. So many retorts and screams crowded her mouth that it rendered her speechless, unable to choose which to say first and terrified to say any of them.
Eug— Aris — looked at her in such smug satisfaction, as if proud of himself for bestowing a phenomenal gift. If Rook wasn’t in the room, Val could have hit him. Her fingers curled in on themselves to fight the temptation regardless.
“Do you have any questions?” Aris tilted his head slightly, studying her.
She used to love having his full attention on her — something made rare and precious because of his busy schedule and bouts of scatterbrained day dreaming. Right now it made her skin crawl, adding fuel to the feeling of constantly being under surveillance, never able to relax.
“Can I go now?” she asked tightly.
His gaze ducked down to her half-eaten lunch. “You haven’t finished your food.”
The rage leaped up, like a kerosene drenched campfire. She felt reckless and wild with it and without a second thought, flipped her plate off the table to watch it shatter to the floor, food spraying over the lush carpet.
“I’m done,” she said. “Now?”
She had no idea what her face looked like at that moment, but whatever Aris saw on it made him sit back in his seat.
“Yes,” he said slowly, warily. “Of course.”
Val stood so far that her chair fell backwards. “Thank you,” she bit out, dripping venom, before striding out the door.
She had no idea where she was headed, and she didn’t care. Val picked a direction and walked as fast as she could towards it. If it led her to a so-called restricted section of the palace, then maybe that would put her out of her misery.
The padded footsteps sound too close and too late to react before a hand grabbed her shoulder. Val whirled around, fist striking out in pure instinct at the warm body behind her. In less than a second, that body gripped her wrist and shoved her against the wall of the hallway.
Rook.
Of course.
“Someone is very cranky today,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smirk.
“Let me go,” she snarled, pushing ineffectively against him.
Rook complied, releasing the bruising grip on her wrist and taking a wide step back, hands up in mock surrender.
“Not many people can scare the king, but I think you managed it just then,” he said.
“What the hell do you want? You have a tracker now. You don’t need to stalk me anymore.”
“We never finished our tour. I wouldn’t want you wandering somewhere you shouldn’t and getting electrocuted on your first day.”
“I’ll figure it out on my own, thanks.”
Rook gave her that same kind of stare Aris did — an assessment. Complete with head tilt. They must spend a lot of time together.
“You’re very angry for someone who was just given a significant amount of freedom that they quite frankly don’t deserve,” he said slowly.
She gave him a poisonous look. “I am not talking about this with you.”
And now that smirk again. “Thank god. I’m not paid to be a feelings person. But I think I know what you need.”
“A long walk off a tall cliff?”
He snorted. “Tempting. But no. Follow me and find out.”
It was probably a stupid decision to follow the most untrustworthy person she’d ever met, but having more opportunities to hate Rook offered her a welcome distraction. So, against all sanity, Val followed him down to an elevator and watched him push the basement button.
“Is that where you keep the torture chambers?” she asked, half joking, half . . .not joking.
“Sometimes it feels that way,” he muttered back.
The elevator dinged and opened to gleaming wooden floors and bright lights. It looked like the reception of a swanky business more than a typical basement. Down a short hallway sat an interior room lined with windows and inside sat various mats, weights, and other equipment.
“You brought me to the gym?” she asked dubiously.
“Yep.”
He made a bee line to a tall metal cabinet and pulled out boxing gloves. “Catch.”
Too fast for her to react, they hit Val square in the face and fell to the floor. She sent him another glare as he snickered before bending down to pick them up.
“You want me to hit something?”
Which actually sounded great, come to think of it.
“I want you to hit me.”
Oh even fucking better.
It felt too good to be true. But Val watched as he pulled out two wide padded circles and fitted them over his palms before he stepped onto one of the mats.
“You gonna put them on or are you chickening out?”
She yanked them onto her hands, their weight surprisingly heavy and then followed him onto the mat.
Rook held up his hands in the mock surrender pose.
“Hit these as hard as you can.”
“You’re serious?” She eyed him dubiously. “What if I hit you in the face?”
“You won’t.”
“You sure? It seems real tempting.”
He grinned. “The day you land a hit on me, I’ll smuggle you back home myself.”
As much as she wanted to deck his face, Val knew a trap when she heard one. Instead, she followed his instructions, landing a blow square against the right hand pad.
He didn’t even budge.
“Come on, Val, I know that’s not all you got. You were so full of rage earlier. Don’t tell me it left already.”
Oh, it didn’t. But she felt nervous putting her full effort in. Either it would hurt him and he’d make her pay or it would be pathetic and he’d mock her.
“You can’t laugh,” she said.
“Oh, I’m going to laugh. Now fucking hit me already.”
She took a deep breath and then slammed her fist against the pad with all her might. He never lost his footing, but she was pleased to see his body sway a fraction.
“Much better. I knew you had it in you. Do it again.”
“What’s the point of this?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Stress relief. I love hitting things when I’m mad. And if you’re hitting me then you’re not hitting my king. So come on, Val. Give me everything you’ve got.”
He asked and she delivered. Val channeled all the injustice, the fear, the grief that the last week had brought her into her fists, driving them over and over into Rook’s padded hands. She didn’t stop, not when her arms started to shake, not when sweat soaked her back, not when a lancing pain hit her shoulder with each impact. It was mindless violence with no victim and it blocked out everything else.
“Ok, okay, Val. That’s enough.”
His voice echoed distantly and she dismissed it instantly. He took a step back and she chased him. It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around her from behind, trapping her arms against her sides.
“That’s enough Val,” he said in her ear.
She was breathing like a winded rhinoceros, her chest burning with it. But with each slowed breath, exhaustion threaded itself through her limbs and tugged. Eventually she slumped against his chest, happy to let him take all the weight of her. Even then he did not budge.
She was too tired to be angry now.
“Your form is absolute dog shit,” he said, his grip cautiously loosening. “But you have some potential. I could train you, if you wanted.”
“Train me?” With supreme effort, she pulled away from and turned to face him. “Train me in what?”
“Boxing. Mixed martial arts. Basic self defense. You can have your pick.”
“You want to teach me how to fight?” She crossed her arms. “Is this some kind of trap? What’s the catch?”
He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no catch. It would get you in shape, get your mind off things. Give you some sense of control.”
“And then I could use it against you.”
He had the gall to laugh at that, head thrown back. “Not in a million fucking years.”
“You think I could never be a threat to you?” Now she felt insulted. “Is it because I’m a woman?”
Rook rolled his eyes. “The scariest people I’ve ever met have been women. But a few weeks or months of the basics is never going to match years of intensive training. If you ever manage to hit me, it’s because I let you for your pride.”
He held out his hands for her gloves and she pulled them off with surprising reluctance.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you the way back to your room. You need a shower.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
But a tiny flicker of gratitude wormed its way through her chest as she followed him back to the elevator. The exercise had cleared her head. She felt soothed, the tightness in her chest dissipated. Rook undoubtedly had ulterior motives for helping her, but he still could have let her drown in her own rage until she did something stupid that he’d gleefully punish her for.
Instead he gave her a much needed outlet.
She didn’t know how to feel about that.
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Taglist
@rivalriotrenegade @sunyside-world @fishtale88 @those-damn-snippets @suspiciousmuffin @thats-alittle-gay @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @tobeornottobeateacher @burningkittypoet @kurai-hono-blog @clover-sage
#hero x villain#enemies to lovers#my writing#villain x civilian#original fiction#writeblr#named characters#kidnapped by the boss
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can i request #27 for ellie and bucky please if you're feeling it? — @shoshiwrites
#27: pulling the other one toward them - this was just made for John Egan. A little interlude shortly after Ellie and John are reunited. (I wrote this on my phone - excuse any spelling mistakes!)
When he’s cleared from the hospital on base, he feels lost. The prospect of being able to go wherever he wants whenever he wants is more daunting than it is freeing.
He almost, almost wishes he was Air Exec again, if only so he could have something to keep his mind busy.
He decides to go see Ellie the first chance he gets. He isn’t flying for who knows how long, and now that he and Gale and Benny and Crank are all back home, he needs a change of scenery.
He escapes the scrutiny of his friends in favor of the cool, smooth wood of the bar in her pub.
“Major,” she greets him, with a shy smile and a tilt of her head, like she’d been expecting him.
He still can’t quite believe that he’s here. She fills a pint without being asked. She doesn’t quiz him about why he’s here, when he got discharged, what happens next…. any of it.
He thinks he loves her for it.
He puts up with some good natured ribbing from some of the locals, but he doesn’t think he’s imagining the relief on their faces - he wonders how it must feel to them, to know that when they get on a first name basis with American fly boys, they run the risk of losing someone, too. As if they could stand to lose anything more.
He overstays his welcome. Knows it, does it anyway, watches with amusement and adoration as she does nothing but raise an eyebrow as she goes over to lock the door after shooing everyone out so she can close for lunch.
She comes close, her skirt brushing his kneecaps where he sits, back facing the bar. As she goes past, he reaches for her, grabs a hand.
Her cheeks turn adorably pink as she struggles to meet his eyes. He feels he’ll burst with the affection he feels for this girl who poured her heart out to him on paper, but is struggling to meet his eyes here, now.
He tugs her closer. Makes room for her between his long legs. Stops just short of pulling her body against his - lets her make the decision if that’s what she wants.
His head fogs as she gets a little closer, her perfume sweet and sharp in his nose. Her lips brush his cheek and he sighs, a satisfied grin settling on his lips.
“Have you eaten?” She whispers. She sounds worried. He wants to kiss her.
“They fed me at the hospital before they let me leave.”
She hums. “I could use a bite.”
“I did promise you a date.”
He is not quite ready for a cafe or a busy restaurant. His appetite isn’t there, and he’s relieved when she tugs him down the street towards a small shop and comes back out with fish and chips.
They find a quiet place to sit, and he revels in this - the smell of fresh food, the breeze making her hair flutter, and her eyes on him.
He reaches for her again, pulling her closer to him as they sit side by side. He filches chips and laughs when she scrunches her nose in displeasure.
For the first time in months, his mind is blissfully empty. He wishes he could stay here like this forever.
An hour goes by before she turns to him, brows creased. “What time do you need to be back?”
“I wasn’t on a schedule.”
“Major Cleven will worry.”
“He always worries.”
“You need to get some rest.” She insists, hand light on the side of his face.
“Trying to get rid of me?” He’s joking, but it comes out genuine.
This time she’s the one who tugs him closer. One of his arms slides around her waist.
“I’d keep you with me if I could.” She whispers.
He kisses her, unable to go another second without closing the gap between them. She tastes sharp like vinegar, and her hand on his cheek slides up to tangle in his hair, scratching his scalp until he shivers.
He’s never had a girl walk him home before, but that’s what happens on this night. Hand in hand, they walk until they reach the gate, the man on duty raising his hand in greeting but saying nothing.
It’s not dark yet, and she insists she can get home on her own well enough.
The day was so easy. He had forgotten life could feel like that.
His hand feels empty without her smaller one in his, and he resolves to remedy that first thing in the morning. That night be finally sleeps soundly, his nightmares chased away by the memory of a hand in his and the feeling of her in his arms, her heartbeat matching his.
#a shorty#i hope that’s ok!!!#sorry this took forever omg#john egan x oc#oc: ellie peters#masters of the air fanfiction#mota fanfiction#softspeirs mota fanfiction
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Is Luisa going to make it home in time? We can't lose Mirabel!
Luisa had only arrived back for some minor thing she had forgotten. Half of her considered not bothering and just waiting until lunch later, but she just decided to get it over with.
She would never have forgiven herself if she hadn’t returned when she did, but she didn’t know that at the time.
Casita’s front door was left ajar, not fully open but not closed and locked like it was nowadays. That was the first sign that something wasn’t right. She barged the door open, which wasn’t as easy as she remembers it being, but it only took a shove to force it open. Revealing the destruction that filled the courtyard. Some piece of furniture, maybe once a cabinet, had been broken and left blocking the door, covered in soot and thorns. Her heart dropped in her stomach.
There was no sign of anyone and no hint of coppery blood in the air, which did calm some of her fears. But she knew Isabela was here. And she had attacked the family, while she had been away.
As she bounded up the stairs, calling out for her family, she noted all the doors were all tied closed with vines - especially Antonio’s. The nursery door had been torn off its hinges and the entire room was torn to shreds. Only the sewing machine looked to still be in one piece, albeit dented and paint-chipped. Luisa’s own door was similarly broken. The trap of weights were still in place. It was clear they had worked, the bottom half of her door still stuck between them. The top half had been broken, indicating that someone had easily climbed through the gap she had made.
Luisa climbed over the weights and remains of the door, into her room. It was pitch black, but from the daylight pouring in, she could make out the wildlife that sprung from every possible crevice. The entire room was swallowed in greenery, it barely looked like a bedroom at all now. (And considering Madrigal bedrooms were barely bedrooms to begin with, that was saying something).
This was something straight out of her nightmares.
She squints, stepping deeper into the room. After a moment of fiddling, she pulls a torch from her pocket and switches it on. She hears it first. Isabela’s voice, distantly, but it’s there - Isabela has never been one for silence. Luisa strains herself to hear another voice, one far more important to her, but she can’t. And then she can see the slight outline of a moving figure in the far corner. When she shines the light over that way, it’s confirmed to be Isabela.
In an instant, she rushing that way, feet crunching against the leaves and vines and whatever else covers the floor. Isabela turns at the sound with a frustrated noise. The light illuminates the white in her eyes and her teeth, stretching into a gleaming smile as she realises who is here.
“You’re too late, sis,” she says, lazily waving her hand. Mirabel is stood not far behind her. The wave of her hand pulls out a bloody branch that had impaled the girl. Without the support from the plant, Mirabel collapses.
Luisa brings herself to a halt, her mind going non-stop. Momentarily unsure of whether she should deal with Isabela or try to help Mirabel first.
Isabela just grins, dismissively. “It’s fine. She’ll probably go to heaven. She can embroider God a new sock or whatever fucking useless thing she likes doing.”
She doesn’t hear a word of it, shaking herself. Racing to Mirabel’s side and pulling the horribly limp body onto her lap. Mirabel looks up at her, eyes open but hazy and unseeing, pale and weak. Luisa tears off a piece of her skirt, pressing it into her side and soaking up blood. It turns black, quick. She yanks off more, pressing as hard as she can and getting a delayed wince from Mirabel.
“Mirabel?” She tries. “Mirabel, I don’t know if you can hear me, but it’s me, Luisa. I’m here, I’ve got you. Okay? You’re going to be okay. Just keep breathing.”
“You act as if she’s worth something,” Isabela mused, watching them from a distance.
“Because she is! And she’s worth a hell of a lot more than you, you fucking psycho!” Luisa snapped. She’s crying, which probably takes away from the sting of her words, but she can’t help it.
Isabela doesn’t look too moved by the statement. “Then I must be the bearer of good news, because you’re about to fucking join her.”
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YAYYY MISHA THEME!!!
MISHA 💖💓🩷❤️💕💖💓🩷💖❤️💖💓💓💖🩷💓
#i loevev them so much did you know that#currently saving up for him and it is HELL after spending it all on sparkel .so many quests and not enough timw .........#and . ouhhh havent had the chance to talk abt . shit what is it called . lemme go see real quick .#A CHILDS DREAM . yknow that one map with the text on the walls and the melted clocks and stuff .#that was done . SO incredibly well it makes me INSANE...........#so like . im 100.1% sure the speaker (who talks abt mikhail a lot) in that room is misha.#like that IS her voice right . im not going insane#its just . auuh... the dreams (or at least golden hour) in peacony are so childlike .... like . some of the puzzles are jigsaw puzzle ;#turn into a small cartoon character ; and help the cartoon character find his cartoon gears .#and then you get to clockie . who can only be seen by someone w a childs innoence (or smth around those lines)#and that misha can see clockie . which like . cool right ? yeab. UNTIL YOU GET TO A CHILDS DREAM ..#where theres something just ... sososo off .#and its ... its just gotta be misha . its gotta be . idk if theres anything outside of main story im missing (there probably is)#BUT . augh . auf even .#childs dream still has these childlike qualities to it (the paper birds; walking on walls) but just ... more warped#(the general atmosphere of the place; the monsters even .)#the music having a music box to make the tone of the song more distressing ... how its so much more smaller than golden hour ..#aughhhhhh ... its just such a good parallel..... i could talk abt it all day really .#anyways . i WAS going to tell u abt my misha theory (which may or may not be confirmed) bu t i got DISTRACTED.#uhh anyways . my theory is that misha is somehow trapped in peacony .#when misha goes onto the parlor car they mention that theyve never been outside of peacony before and that she can t stay for long .#which i imagine is very normal! BUT its this combined w her lock motif (pupils; most of the doors in childs dream) thag make me suspicious#i mentioned before that golden hour has a very childish quality to it. and that misha has that childish quality.#okay well . what if mishas being kept there so that golden hour can keep on being a dream for other people?#and so that would make golden hour mishas dream. (or part of his dream? could be more people the familys keeping)#and that would imply that childs dream is . well . mishas nightmare .#uhm . i think thats it ..? if i come up w anything else ill . ramble abt it somewhere . definitely not the most eloquent but#i hope i got the point across <33#i think its an understatement to say i love misha . i LOVE MISHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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My sweet little darling, you're as cute as a button! I'm always watching, waiting, planning the perfect time to sneak in and take you away from all of this! You and me, together forever! Once I have you, you will never leave my side. Anyone who tries to separate us will have to answer to my chainsaw! You are all that matters to me. Mark my words cupcake, you. Are. Mine. That will never change <3
~ Your darling Yoomie <3
HHHHWWHHEJWSHFJHDDJFJDJFJDHFJBEHHFJSHJFJF YOOMIE YOOMIE YOOMIE YOOMIE MY SWEET DARLING YOOMIE PLEASE FEEL FREE TO STEAL ME AWAY WHENEVER YOU WANT OK I WOULD LOVE TO STAY BY YOUR SIDE FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER I WOULD BE HAPOIER THAN EVER I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU<<3<333<3<3<3<3<<<33<3<3<333<3<33<3<3<3<3<÷<<33<3<3<3_4>35_4<<×5<3^=&=&$&%*$I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE YOU
#THIS IS LITERALLY PERFECT.WELL EVERY MESSAGE I GET FROM YOOMTAH IS PERFECT BUT STILL#SHE CALLED ME HER SWEET LITTLE DARLING<3AND CUPCAKE<3<3AND SAID IM CUTE AS A BUTTON<3<3<3AND SAID IM H E R S <3<3<3<3EEEEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEEEE#A N D SHE VERY MUCH IMPLIED TO KIDNAPPING ME<<3<3<3<33<3<3<3<<3<3<333<3<4_3<_3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<=^÷>3^=&=÷&÷3<÷<÷<÷<3<3_3<3<3#IMMBLUSHING LIKE CRAZY MY FACE IS SO WARM AAAUAAUAUAJAIQUAHJAHASUHFJFDJBFJHHHHHHHHHHH#MMBBNNNDBFNBI WANT HER TO HOLD ME AND KISS ME AND TELL ME IM HERS FOR HOURS AND HOURS AND HOURS UNTIL ALL I CAN PHYSICALLY THINK ABT IS HER#MY HEART IS BEATING LIKE CRAZY LITERALLY.I CANT HANDLE ANSWERING 2 INSANE ASKS IN A ROW AND THEN A WHOLE YOOMTAH ANON KM GONNA INSANE#I WANT TO STARE AT THIS ASK AND IMAGINE SHES OUTSIDE MY WINDOW GIGGLING YANDERILY WHILE WATCHING ME GO INSANE OVER HER MESSAGE<3<3<3#I WANT TO WAKE UP TO HER LAYING NEXT TO ME TWIRLING MY HAIR IN HER FINGERS AND WHEN I WAKE UP SHE SMILES INSANELY AND GIVES ME A BIG KISS O#N MY CHEEK AND GIGGLING LIKE ''WELCOME HOME CUTIEPIE!!'' AND IT JUST SO HAPPENS THE HOME SHE IS REFERRING TO IS HER ROOM SHE LOCKED ME IN#I WOULD NEVER EVER WANT TO ESCAPE HER TBH I JUST LOVE HER SO MUCH I WOULDNT WANT OR NEED ANYTHING ELSE IF IT WERE ONLY ME AND HER TOGETHER#OK MY AUNT ASKED ME TO HELP HER WITH STUFF BUT THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS SO OUT OF IT BC MY BRAIN IS FILLED WITH YOOMTAH HELP JSHDKSJFKGN#NO THOUGHTS ONLY YOOMTAH LITERALLY KIDNAPPING ME AND LOVING ME FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND#AAAAAAAAAUAHAHWAHSWJDJFJGJ I CANT TAKE IT JUST THINKING ABT IT MAKES ME GO CRAZY WITH LOVE#LITERALLY SO DERANGED OVER HER RN YOOMTAH IF UR READING THIS PLEASE COME KIDNAP ME AND SMOTHER ME IN LOVE AND AFFECTION FOREVER#AND TELL ME IM YOURS CONSTANTLY SO I NEVER FORGET IT AND KEEP ME TIED UP OR SOMETHING SO I HAVE NO CHANCE OF ESCAPING#EVEN THO ID NEVER EVEN WANT TO ESCAPE I JUST APPRECIATE THE DEDICATION YKNOW AND ALSO IM JUST KINDA INSANE LIKE THAT#LITERALLY.YOOMTAH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I WOULD BURN ENTIRE COUNTRIES TO THE GROUND IF IT MEANT YOU WOULD TELL ME IM YOURS AGAIN#YOOMTAH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU#I L O V E Y O U💕💓💜💋💞🌠❣💚✨💙🌩💖🌻👩❤️💋👩💚💗⚠️🍋💓💗💕❤💟⚡⚠️❣🌼🌈💖⚠️💛💞💌🌻💛💜💫🧡🍋⚡💝🌩✨💙❣💋💕💘⚡💘💗🌈🌠
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Good news: i'm home safely
Bad news: my luggage is not.
Further bad news: I hate living here.
Fuck sake, I ran out of tags. Second half of the tags is here. First is in the actual tags.
Navi's food has his anxiety meds in it. Tael doesn't need them. And Navi needs the full dose. But fuck that I guess.
And they started relying on a weird system that alerts them when an animal goes out the doggy door at night. so they can yell at the cat if that's who went out. Except if they've already fuckinh run away to be eaten by coyotes or hit by a car. Or ignore it bc they're fucking asleep.
And then when i'm upset at them for fucking up, they tell me i'm being ungrateful and that the cats are fine.
They just couldn't be bothered to take an extra few minutes out of their day to do what I asked in the way it needed to be done.
Just. I've been home 17 hours and I already feel like shit and hate living here.
I'm so fucking tired.
#my parents have stopped getting the regular cat food for the one cag#*cat#and have been giving them both the kidney health wet food#and bc they don't like having cat food in the fridge they give each cat half a can#which they shouldn't have bc it's 33% more than their recommended intake#and effectively made cans that should have lasted four days just one#i pay for the soecialty cat food bc it's expensive as hell#and they fucking quartered the lengtv of time it lasts#abd fuckung changed the cat littwr in my room from pine to clay#which they know makes it hard for me to breathe#not to mention i now have bits of litter all over my room#and on my bed and perpetually on my feey#did i mention the litter is in my fuckinh bedroom?#so i'm the one who has to deal with it#and my mom turned their water foybtain back on despite me explaining that i turned it off bc it was disgusting and needed to be cleaned#and bc she def wouldn'y keep up w it#esp bc i covered the fill line to block the light so i cojld sleep#she didn't fucking clesn it snd when i got vome it was way too low snd i'm worried for the motor#it's so gross and it's struggling bc it needs a new filter and to be cleanex#and she clesrly locked navi in my room alone after telling her multiple times not to#and explainubg thst he woulf break mt door#and i know she did bc she got me a new shoe organiser for the back of my door#and mine was just fine when i left#and my parents started giving the cats treats when they feed the dog in the evenings#WHICH ISN'T A PART OF THE CALCULATIONS FOR HOW MUCH FOOD THEY NEED#and ALSO that means Tael doesn't want to eat at dinner time#but navi does#so navi eats both foods#and may or may not leave any for taek#and tael lukely eats navi's food
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the request here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings:
“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”
This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.
Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal.
Something is bothering you.
The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.
It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.
“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.”
The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to.
Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you.
It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you.
“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”
Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.
You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections.
“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.”
There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.
You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”
Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”
You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it.
His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”
Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”
You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.
“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”
It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer.
“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin’ neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”
“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.”
Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”
Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.
“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”
His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.
“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”
Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.
“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.
Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”
More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out.
“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.
He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”
Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.
The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them.
You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.
Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking.
You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you.
He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.
It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”
Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands.
“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”
More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”
His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon.
Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.
“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.”
Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip.
There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.
You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.
Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum.
“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.
Oh you have got him down bad tonight.
He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.
“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower.
You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”
Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.
“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.
His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.
“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”
The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure.
His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out.
“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”
Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.
“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all.
Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.
Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.
It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again.
“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#cod mw2#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon smut#simon#ghost simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost smut#simin ghost riley#simon ghost x you#ghost#cod ghost#cod mwf2#cod
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☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. a flicker of a flame.
about. when satoru notices the flicker of cursed energy within your unborn child, he starts to feel the weight and nerves of becoming a father.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, expecting parents, reader is pregnant, hospitals, nerves about being parents, listen idk how gojo’s cursed technique works so here u go >:( canon verse, expecting father!gojo, fem!reader.
“i can see it…like…flickering inside of you.”
satoru carries an expression of intrigue, like a child who’s just discovered a new sensation.
you flip the page of your magazine, not bothering to spare your husband a glance while you instead choose to admire the many strollers and their offers that decorate the page. “don’t be weird, satoru.” you tap a perfectly manicured nail against the one you like most, leaning over to show the item to him.
“but it’s there… like actually there.” the sorcerer replies, keeping his voice low despite the loud ambience of the maternity ward’s waiting room. people crying, people celebrating, families already full of children gathering around to hear more exciting news. “i like that one. it’ll fit in the hallway too. do you want it in grey or in black?”your husband passes you a pen from the depths of your tote bag in his lap, letting you circle the stroller in the magazine so you know to come back to it.
this time, you do him the honours of looking up at him — a fresh glare settled on your glowing features. “satoru gojo please stop referring to our baby as an ‘it’.” you sigh in exhaustion, watching him slump in his seat because you know he hates it when you’re irritated with him. “i thought you were excited about having a baby girl. and the grey one, it goes with your eyes.”
that seems to perk him up enough, earning you a kiss to your cheek that has you smiling like a fool in the nurses office. “sorry, sorry…” satoru starts to coo warmly, a soft tone that’s usually reserved for you and his students. “it’s just that… every time i look at you, i see two vessels of cursed energy instead of one. there’s a flicker of a flame there, right where she would be. it’s blowing my mind.” he points to your bump, nestled away under the layer of his clothing since they’re the only thing that makes you feel comfortable right now.
you close your magazine slowly, fighting the flutter of your heart and the warmth that spreads through your body. you know that your husband is being cautious, overly observant and extremely over protective — being pregnant and having a baby in your line of work was dangerous. scary, even. but you knew that satoru wanted this with you, and you him. that he cared a little too hard or worried slightly too much because while he was the strongest, you’d become every target and every weakness to him.
you and your daughter.
an unborn child who may possibly have the powers of a god among men.
so, instead you tuck away the irritation that comes with your hormones and let your gaze slink over to the large man squished into the abnormally small seat of the waiting room — just to be by your side. “do you need me to explain how pregnancy works, satoru?” you quip and rest your head on your knuckles, just to make him laugh and ease up a little.
a wiry smile starts to tug at the corner of his soft, pink lips. “i’d rather you show me but i think we got the fun part nailed.” gojo’s face splits into a wide grin, making you roll your eyes. “we made her, yanno. she’s alive in there because you’re keeping her safe.”
“and you too, mister six eyes.” you tap his skull, brushing against pure white locks, as gojo leans over you affectionately — probably in demand for a kiss (which you give).
the receptionist calls your family name from the front desk — no doubt to call you in for your neonatal appointment. another set of scans to help confirm your little girl is nice and healthy before you tell the rest of your friends and family later today.
gojo wanted to hand out copies of your scans to everyone at dinner. show off.
but as you stand, satoru goes quiet, offering you his hand as aid. “do you think…do you want…” pressing his lips into a thin line, your husband mulls over his words whilst guiding you down the hall to the doctors office — nodding to the receptionist to thank her as you pass. “i hope she doesn’t have what i have. i wouldn’t wish this burden on anyone.” he looks you straight in the eye, blue eyes piercing your soul. you feel your baby move and kick, forcing you to wonder if she’ll have the same mind blowing eyes as her father. “i hope she’s like you. beautiful and strong and—“
“ours. she’ll be ours and the best parts of both of us. her daddy’s strength, bravery, good looks and her momma’s wits, pretty ‘get me what i want eyes’ and smarts too.” you laugh, bright and loud as you cut gojo off — turning to look at him with a happy smile. “if she turns out like that, the best parts of both of us she’ll be perfect. i’ll love her because you gave her to me, we can figure out the rest later.”
that seems to reassure satoru, who sags in relief by your side as he wraps an arm around you, his large palm splaying across your baby bump. “you’re right, you’re right,” he grins again, feeling her little feet mercilessly kick at his palm. “as long as she’s healthy, we’ll be fine. i love you.”
“we love you too.” you swoon a little too much.
satoru gojo will be a great father, you think, your baby girl is so lucky — she has the strongest daddy in the world and he loves her a little too much already.
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#satoru gojo x you#angelshubnetwork#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki
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Wasn’t Me
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader
Synopsis: when Vision accidentally phases through your wall and catches you and Peter in the act, you try to stop it from spreading to everyone in the tower before Tony gets home
Masterlist
“Wait, this isn’t the kitchen.” Vision said as he accidentally phased through the bedroom wall. You and Peter froze at the sound of a third voice and slowly looked up. Every time you snuck off to have some private time with each other, you made sure to lock the door. But despite all your best efforts to keep your relationship a secret, neither of you accounted for Vision coming through the wall. Especially not when you were right in the middle of….something.
“Oh. Hello.” Vision said and gave you and Peter a polite wave. The act he had caught you did not seem to phase him at all while you and Peter were horrified.
“AHHHH.” You and Peter screamed at the same time. You rolled off of Peter and landed right on the floor while Peter grabbed a pillow and placed it over his lap.
“Forgive me for intruding, but I am looking for the kitchen.” She said to meet her in the kitchen.” Vision asked politely.
“Well you’re not gonna find it here!” You exclaimed as you threw your shirt back on.
“Dude! Get out! ” Peter shouted as he hastily tried to zip his pants.
“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?” Vision genuinely asked.
“YES!” You screamed like it was obvious.
“My apologies. I bid you both a good day.” Vision nodded curtly and disappeared back the way he came. You and Peter stayed in silence for a while as you processed what had happened.
“Do you think he saw us?” Peter asked to break the silence. You sat up from under him and gave him a look.
“Do I think he saw us?” You repeated slowly.
“Well do you?” Peter asked as you climbed back onto the bed.
“Are you kidding me? Of course he saw! The straw was already in the coconut. There’s no way he didn’t realize what was going on.”
“Maybe he thought we were just wrestling?” Peter shrugged weakly.
“Uh huh. Wresting with your dick out. Just like WWE.” You said sarcastically.
“Damn it. He definitely saw us. Do you think he’ll tell anyone?” Peter worried.
“He better not. My dad will kill you. And then vaporize your corpse. And then set the ashes on fire. And then blow them into a shrimp cocktail.”
“But I’m allergic to shellfish.”
“Exactly.” You whispered.
“Oh shit.” Peter gulped. “We need to go find Vision and make sure he doesn’t tell anyone.”
“Let’s go. He’s probably charging or in a bowl of rice or something.” You said and lead Peter out of the room. You went into the kitchen and found Vision at the breakfast table.
“Hey Vision.” Peter smiled awkwardly as you stood beside him.
“Hello, Peter.” Vision said politely.
“So, about the little snafu from before. We just want to make sure you don’t tell anybody about what you saw.”
“Yeah. Because it wasn’t what it looked like.” You added.
“Oh, no? It looked like the two do you were engaging in sexually explicit activity.” Vision replied. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look and tried to think of a way out of this.
“It looked like that, yes, but that’s not what we were doing.” Peter lied as you nodded along.
“Hm. That’s funny. I can detect heart rates and both of you appear to be lying.” Vision said with genuine curiosity.
“We’re not lying, silly.” You forced a laugh. “My heart is racing because I haven’t had any food yet but I drank a bunch of coffee.”
“You know women and their pumpkin spice lattes.” Peter added, earning himself a jab in the side.
“Watch it.” You said through a smile.
“And my heart just beats fast because I have the heart rate of a spider.” Peter added. “No lying here.”
“Oh, I see. But if you two weren’t engaging in sexual activity, what were you doing?” Vision questioned.
“Uhhh…” Peter scratched his head and tried to think of something.
“Peter was just choking on a pretzel and I was getting it out of his throat.” You jumped in.
“With your tongue?” Vision asked.
“Yes?” Peter said weakly.
“With your shirts off?”
“It’s a new technique.” You deadpanned.
“I’m not aware of this technique. Can you demonstrate on me?” Vision asked you.
“Absolutely not.” Peter snapped and stepped between you and Vision. Vision looked at Peter in confusion and you had to jump in again.
“Because it didn’t work.” You explained. “He still choked.”
“He seems fine to me. Although, I am detecting some slight discomfort in the abdomen.” Vision said as he looked Peter up and down.
“I have a tummy ache.” Peter admitted and patted his stomach.
“Would you like me to conduct a physical exam?” Vision asked and held up both his hands.
“No. I probably just have to fart.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes.
“So are we cool? You’re not gonna tell anyone what you saw?” Peter asked Vision.
“We are cool. I will not be telling anyone what I didn’t see.” Vision confirmed.
“Okay. Good.” You sighed in relief.
“Except for Wanda.” He added. “Because I already told her. I tell her everything. I love her quite dearly.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned even louder.
“What did you tell her you saw?” Peter asked him.
“Just you were engaging in-“
“It wasn’t sexual activity!” You exclaimed. “He was choking and I was saving his life.”
“Then why was his penis out?” Vision asked Peter.
“Because…it…was… cold.” Peter said slowly, hating himself with every word.
“Oh my God. Both of you need to stop.” You stated. “Do you think Wanda going to tell anyone about what you thought you saw but didn’t actually see?”
“I’m not sure.” Vision replied. “You’ll have to ask her.”
“Fine. We can ask her.” You sighed and pulled Peter by the hand and brought him to where Wanda was reading on the balcony.
“I don’t want to. She’s scary.” Peter whispered to you.
“We have to talk to her and find out what she knows before she tells my dad.” You whispered back.
“I can whisper too.” Wanda whispered as she suddenly appeared behind the two of you. You both screamed and jumped apart as she laughed. You grabbed Peters hand and ran away, brushing past Natasha as you went.
“They’re a little odd, aren’t they?” Natasha chuckled as she watched you run by.
“They are.” Wanda agreed. “You know, Vision caught them doing it before.”
“What? No way.”
“Yeah. He said he accidentally phased through Peters bedroom wall and caught them.”
“Oh God. Yuck. New fear unlocked. That’s hilarious though.” Natasha laughed at the thought.
“What’s hilarious?” Steve asked as he came into the room.
“Vision caught Y/n and Peter doing it.” Natasha told him.
“What?” Steve laughed. “No way.”
“That’s what I said!” Natasha laughed.
“Honestly, I kinda figured they were doing it. They are the only two in the tower around that age. And lord knows Peter is hornier than an…animal with horns.” Steve said weakly when he couldn’t think of an animal.
“Rhino?” Wanda asked.
“I was thinking Triceratops.” Steve admitted.
“Wait, isn’t there a rule again dating on the team?” Nat asked. “At least, that’s what Tony tells me and Bruce every time we make eye contact.”
“If he had a problem with that, he’s definitely gonna have a rule against one of us dating his daughter. Especially Peter.”
“I thought Peter was a nice boy, no?” Wanda asked.
“He is.” Steve nodded. “But all Tony will see is that he’s a boy who Vision caught with his daughter. He’s gonna blow Peter into a million pieces.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what Vision walked in on.” Wanda mumbled. From across the room, you and Peter were peeking out from behind a wall to watch them all talk.
“This is bad. They’re all laughing and saying our names.” Peter whispered to you.
“Do you think Wanda told?”
“I don’t know. What if she made them all see it with her mind powers?”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s evil and not to be trusted!” Peter whispered harshly.
“We just need to talk to her and find out what she knows. Maybe she didn’t even believe Vision.”
“Do we have to?” Peter whined. “What if she enters my mind palace?”
“She wouldn’t find much.” You mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, sweetie.” You patted his cheek and pulled him out from behind the wall. Natasha and Steve had left at that point and Wanda had gone back to her book.
“Hey, Wanda.” You said with an awkward wave.
“Oh. Hello. I haven’t seen you two in forever. What have you been up to?” Wanda said sarcastically.
“Not much. Same soup, just reheated. You know the vibes. So, uh, we just wanted to talk to you about something. Something Vision might have said.” You began.
“Oh. You mean you two swallowing each other alive in Peters room?” Wanda asked. You and Peter exchanged a look and Peter let out a loud gulp.
“Vision doesn’t know what he saw.” You told her.
“Vision is made from the highest form of artificial intelligence. He knows everything.”
“Okay.” You said mockingly. “But he doesn’t know in this specific situation.”
“He’s programmed to access a situation down to every last detail in case there is a threat of danger. And it seemed the only threat of danger in Peters room that day was running out of oxygen. Or maybe a broken pelvis.”
“I’m flattered but I’m not that good.” Peter said humbly.
“He’s right. He isn’t.” You nodded in agreement.
“What was that?” Peter asked you.
“We just want to make sure whatever Vision told you about what he thinks he saw isn’t going to be told to anyone else.” You said to Wanda.
“Now hold on.” Peter tried to go back to what he had heard.
“Secrets safe with me.” Wanda smiled and zipped her lips.
“And me.” Bruce said from behind you. You and Peter whipped around and saw Bruce staring at you while eating a bowl of cereal.
“What?! Were you in here the whole time?” Peter asked.
“Yeah. Wanda, you are funny. How come I never noticed that?” Bruce chuckled.
“I’m not sure.” Wanda shrugged. “You tell me.”
“God damn it. Are either of you going to tell anyone what Vision saw?” You asked and pointed at Wanda and Bruce.
“I thought Vision didn’t see anything?” Wanda smirked.
“Right. Is anyone going to tell my dad about what Vision thinks he saw but definitely didn’t see?” You asked with a hopeful smile.
“Maybe? I don’t understand the question. Can you reword it? Or maybe write it down so I can see it?” Bruce asked.
“Oh my God.” You groaned. “I thought you were the smart one.”
“Ouch. Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being mean to me?” Bruce asked Peter.
“I’m not his girlfriend because we weren’t engaging in sexual activity because we’re not dating. Everyone got that?” You asked angrily.
“Got it.” Wanda nodded.
“No, sorry. Still confused. So you are dating but Vision didn’t catch you guys doing it?” Bruce asked so genuinely that you wanted to scream.
“No, he definitely did.” Wanda snorted. You looked at her in betrayal and she smiled apologetically.
“Oh. Now I get it. You guys are dating and Vision did catch you having sex.” Bruch realized. “But what are we not telling Tony?”
“No one is telling Mr. Stark anything. Everyone just keep your mouth shut about the activities, which may or may not have been sexual in nature, that Vision allegedly walked in on. Okay?” Peter exclaimed.
“My lips are sealed.” Wanda assured you. “Well, now they are. Because I already told Steve and Nat. But that was before you asked me not to tell anyone.”
“Oh my God. Find. Can we trust you?” You asked Bruce.
“I’m not gonna rat. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” Peter nodded. “You’re dismissed.”
“I don’t take orders from you.” Bruce snapped and walked away.
“Jesus Christ.” Peter whispered and felt genuinely offended by the tone. You took his hand and brought him away from Wanda to regroup.
“We need to get ahead of this before anyone else finds out we’re secretly dating.” You told him.
“You guys are secretly dating?” Sam asked as he came into the hallway, making you both jump.
“Damn it!” Peter shouted and hit the wall.
“Oh great. Captain fucking America knows now.” You grumbled.
“Since when are you two a thing?” Sam laughed and looked between you and Peter.
“Two months.” You admitted.
“Two months? And Tony still doesn’t know?”
“Do you think Peter would be alive right now if my dad knew?” You asked and gestured to Peter.
“That’s a joke, right?” Peter laughed nervously.
“I guess not.” Sam shrugged.
“Are you gonna tell my dad?” You asked him.
“No.” Sam replied.
“Cool. Thanks.” You sighed in relief.
“But only if-“
“Mother fucker.” You exclaimed now that there was a new obstacle.
“Only if you promise to never bring up that one time with the TV.” Sam continued.
“You mean when you got caught-“
“Zip it.” Sam cut you off. “Or I’ll tell Daddy Warbucks about your affair with Little Orphan Annie here.”
“This whole conversation has been wildly emasculating.” Peter mumbled.
“I never saw anything.” You told Sam.
“Good.” He nodded. “Then we have a deal.”
You went to shake hands when your phone started to ring. You looked at Peter curiously and pulled it out of your pocket.
“Hang on. Hello?”
“Hey short stack. I’m landing in 20 minutes. I can see that most of the team is in the tower today so I thought we could all have a nice, family dinner in the dining room. How does that sound?” Tony asked you through the phone.
“The entire team? In the dinning room? For dinner? Tonight?” You asked as panic grew in your chest.
“Are you playing a one man game of Clue? Just let everyone know, will you?” Tony asked.
“Sure, daddy. No problem.” You laughed nervously and looked at Peter with wide eyes.
“Thanks, peach. See you soon.” Tony said before having up.
“Shit balls.” You whispered once you were off the phone.
“Was that super good news?” Peter asked hopefully.
“My dad wants the whole team in the dinning room for family dinner.” You said and held your breath for his reaction.
“Son of a…” Peter started to shout and then quieted down, “shart mama.”
“I know. It’s bad.”
“This has gotten so out of hand. I’ve never taken this many L’s in a row. I don’t know if I can take anymore. My body is shutting down. I haven’t peed all day.” Peter said as he paced back and forth.
“Keep it together.” You said as you gripped his shoulders.
“Oh no. This is going to be so awkward.” Sam laughed at your misfortune.
“Why? Because everyone knows we’re secretly dating except for Mr. Stark and they also know Mr. Stark will kill them for knowing and not telling him right away so tonight will be a long, uncomfortable game of who tells him first?” Peter asked all in one breath.
“Yes, that’s exactly why.” Sam nodded and looked at Peter strangely.
“I don’t want to go.” Peter whispered and turned to you.
“We all have to go.” You told him. “He’ll get sus if we’re not all there.”
“But what if your dad kills me?” Peter whined.
“Then I’ll wait at least three months before getting a new boyfriend.” You smiled sweetly and patted his chest.
“You can do that but I’ll just haunt him and kill him in his sleep.” Peter smiled back.
“Oh my God. Come on. We have to go get ready for dinner.” You said and pulled Peter to your room.
30 minutes later, everyone was seated in the dining room with Tony at the head of the table. You and Peter nervously peered through the doorway to see what the set up was.
“What’s our plan?” Peter asked you.
“Sit far away from each other and diverge the conversation every time my dad gets close to happening upon the truth.”
“Okay. How hard can that be? We never get together for family dinner. They’ll all be talking so much that you and I won’t even come up.”
You and Peter took your seats at the table with you next to your dad and Peter further away. You made eye contact with Peter and nodded to let him know that you were in this together. Everyone stayed dead silent as the food was passed around and Tony was quick to notice.
“Why is everyone so quiet? Did Sam leave porn on the big TV again?” Tony asked as he chewed his food. You gulped and looked at Peter in a panic. You had been wrong about everyone talking and keeping the attention away from you. Instead, everyone was silent and tense since they didn’t want to be the one to let Tony know what Vision had seen.
“That was one time.” Sam defended.
“But how could we ever forget?” Tony teased him.
“I just wanted to watch Mama Mia. My eyes were burned.” Bucky said as he shut his eyes to keep out the memory.
“Let it go.” Sam said flatly.
“I don’t remember that.” You said robotically. Sam gave you a discreet thumbs up across the table.
“What? You were the one that found it.” Tony reminded you.
“Doesn’t ring a bell. I think you’re all remembering incorrectly.” You said with no much stiffness it sounded like you were reading from a prompter. Tony looked around the table and everyone avoided eye contact with him. They mindlessly pushed their food around their plates to look busy so that Tony wouldn’t ask them anything.
“Why is everyone acting weird?” Tony asked.
“What? We’re not. You’re being weird, dad.” You forced a laugh and patted Tony’s arm.
“Right.” Tony said skeptically. “So, Pete the treat. Any romantic interests at school?”
Everyone turned to stare at Peter, who was in the middle of taking a sip from his glass. Peter started choking on his water for a long time. No one made any effort to help Peter so he just sat there choking for an uncomfortably long period of time. Everyone stayed silent as he Peter coughed, turned red, and clapped his chest to try and get the water out. When he was finally done, he was crying and bright red.
“What?” Peter asked horsely.
“Peter doesn’t want to talk about girls, dad.” You laughed nervously. Everyone exchanged looks while also sneaking glances at you and Peter.
“He does with me. Come on. My dad never bothered with this stuff and I want to break the cycle. Tell me about your love life.” Tony insisted and playfully patted the table. You shot daggers at Peter and everyone turned to look at him. Peter felt sweat dripping down his forehead and smiled nervously.
“There’s no one, Mr. Stark. No girls.”
“I don’t buy that for a second. I can see the hormones brewing in your eyes. You’re sweating just at the thought of her. I know there’s a girl.”
“Maybe.” Peter squeaked out.
“See? I knew it. Tell me about her. She cute?” Tony asked. Peter looked at you for a brief second and quickly looked away.
“Yeah, yeah. She’s gorgeous. Really pretty.”
“She’s all right.” Sam shrugged, making everyone stifle a laugh as your jaw dropped.
“Fuck did you just say?” Peter snapped.
“I was kidding. Damn.” Sam held up his hands in defense.
“Damn, indeed.” Tony laughed. “Way to stand up for your girl, kid. She’s a lucky lady.”
“Thank you, sir.” Peter said and hoped that was the end of the conversation.
“You really are a good kid, Peter. I don’t tell you enough. I was just saying this to Pepper the other day, but if anyone is ever brave enough to try and date my daughter, I hope they’re like you.” Tony said sincerely. This time, you started choking as everyone murmured with amusement.
“Really?” Peter asked hopefully. He looked at you but you didn’t dare make eye contact.
“Yeah. Sure, you’re pretty annoying and way too eager at times, but you’re a good kid. You’re responsible, you care about other people, and you know how to get a decent haircut.” Tony continued.
“So you’d give Peter your blessing? If he and I ever wanted to date?” You asked skeptically.
“Absolutely not.” Tom said immediately.
“What?” Your face dropped. “But you just said-“
“I said I hope the person you date is like Peter.” Tony specified. “But Peter would never be allowed to date you.”
“Why not?” Peter asked and you shot him a look. Everyone else kept their heads down and turned away from Tony so he wouldn’t suspect anything.
“Not that I care. Psh. Peter is lame. I would never date Peter. Haha. But yeah, why not?” You asked your dad.
“Because he’s a superhero. And no daughter of mine is dating a superhero.”
“But you’re a superhero.” You pointed out. “And mom married you.”
“I know. That’s why I’d never allow you to go down the same path. I’ve missed hundreds dates, thousands of calls, and a million important moments because I was off being a superhero. I was saving the world but I was hurting the person I love most in the process. I don’t want that life for you. If Peter was an average guy off the street, I’d be thrilled to know you were dating him. But Peter isn’t average.”
“I know that.” You replied, starting to get annoyed now that your dad was trying to tell you that you couldn’t do something. You were already doing it, but he didn’t need to know that. He needed to know that he couldn’t make your choices for you.
“Ayo. Yeah she does.” Sam snorted. Everyone gasped and looked at him, making him freeze. You and Peter stared daggers at Sam who smiled sheepishly.
“Oops?”
“You little bitch.” You mouthed across the table at him. Tom noticed the way everyone reacted and grew suspicious. He looked at you and noticed you weren’t making eye contact. He then looked at Peter, who looked like he was about to pass out.
“What was that?” Tony asked Sam.
“Nothing.” Sam scoffed and went back to eating.
“Samuel. Tell me what you just said.” Tony said with an eerily calm smile.
“I don’t want to.” Sam whispered.
“Tell me or I will shove your wings so far up your ass-“
“I said she knows Peter isn’t average.” Sam admitted before Tony could finish his sentence. You buried your face in your hands while Peter chewed off all of his fingernails.
“What does that mean?” Tony asked and turned to you.
“I can confirm that as well.” Vision raised his finger as he spoke up. You and Peter looked at Vision in betrayal while everyone else stayed silent.
“Oh my God.” You whispered and rubbed your face.
“What? What’s the big red giant talking about?” Tony asked you again, sounding angry this time. Before you had a chance to think of something, Vision spoke up.
“I’m talking about how I accidentally caught them fornicating earlier today, sir. Also, am I required to be here? I can’t actually eat food.” Vision said politely. Everyone was dead silent as Tony processed what he was hearing. No one dared to look up from their plates or even move a muscle.
“You know what? Vision is right. We should actually all leave. And never return. Bye!” You said and got up from the table. Tony grabbed the back of your shirt and made you sit back down.
“Nobody move.” He said in a low voice. Silence fell over the table again as Tony slowly looked to Peter. That’s when he noticed that Peter had passed out and had his limp head in his dinner plate.
“Wake the son of a bitch up.” Tony ordered. Wanda lifted Peters head by his hair and a green bean stuck to his cheek and forehead.
“Peter?” Tony asked, but Peter didn’t wake up. Wanda shook him, then took his pulse to see if he was even alive.
“He’s unresponsive.” She reported.
“Jesus Christ.” You groaned to yourself as you watched Wanda and Steve try to wake Peter up.
“He peed his pants.” Steve announced, making you groan even louder.
“PETER!” Tony shouted as he banged on the table. Peter woke up and looked around in confusion. Tony slowly stood up and leaned over the table while staring daggers at Peter.
“Somebody tell me what’s going on.” Tony demanded. No one said anything, so you bit the bullet and stood up as well.
“Dad, Peter and I are dating. Vision caught us before and the whole team found out about it. That’s what’s going on, okay? Please, don’t kill my boyfriend.”
“What?” Tony asked as he slumped back in his seat. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset, but it was definitely not good.
“Sam was watching porn on the big screen!” You blurted and pointed to Sam.
“You said you didn’t see anything!” Sam pointed back at you.
“That was before you didn’t hold up your end of the deal!” You shouted.
“Shut up, both of you. Are you kidding me right now? You’re dating Peter Parker?” Tony asked in a calmer voice.
“Yes, daddy. I am. I have been for two months. We didn’t tell you because we knew you’d be mad and we just wanted some time together before you forced us apart. I wouldn’t normally lie to you like this but I knew you’d never allow us to be together and I love him. I just needed to love him for as long as I could before the world knew. I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad at me.” You said as you took your dads hands. Tony stared at you for a long time and finally, put his hand on your cheek.
“I could never be mad at you, princess.” Tony said kindly. You smiled in surprise as Peter let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m gonna turn Peter inside out, though.” Tony said sweetly before lunging at Peter. He punched Peter right in the throat, making Peter collapse to the ground. You rushed to Peters side as Tony shook out his hand.
“Dad! You can’t hit him that hard. He’s only 5’8. He could’ve died.” You yelled at Tony as you pulled Peters head into your lap.
“That didn’t even hurt.” Peter wheezed out as he clutched his throat. Tony wound up to hit Peter again, but stopped when he saw something that surprised him. He watched Peter reached up and touch your face as he whispered to you that everything was going to be all right. He thought he had just been punched in the throat and was awaiting the punishment of a lifetime, his priority was to comfort you when you were upset. Tony then knelt down beside Peter and helped him sit up.
“I’m sorry, kid. I should not have hit you. It was a slight overreaction.” Tony sincerely apologized.
“Slight?” Peter croaked out.
“I just wasn’t expecting to come home to this news. But if it’s been two months and my daughter says she’s this in love, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.”
“Mr. Stark, I know it’s probably hard to think about your daughter dating someone with a life as unpredictable as ours, but I don’t put anything above her. If I’m out on patrol, chances are, she’s hanging out on a rooftop with a walkie talkie telling me where to go. If I have to miss a date to take care of something, I take her with me. She’s my partner in all of this. I don’t leave her waiting around for a text back all night. She comes first.”
“Actually, “Vision began, “when I entered your room, it seemed as though Peter was going-“
“Do not finish that sentence, jumbo tampon.” You cut him off.
“You can trust me, Mr. Stark. You can trust us.” Peter said as he wrapped an arm around you. Tony looked between the two of you for a while but didn’t say anything.
“Please, daddy.” You whispered. Tony finally caved and smiled softly.
“Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’m not gonna kill Peter. You have my blessing, underoos.” Tony said as he helped Peter off the floor.
“Really? You’re not gonna force us apart?” You asked hopefully as you wrapped your arm around Peters.
“I’m not.” Tony confirmed. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions. But if he breaks your heart, he’s getting turned inside out. At least for a day. I cannot compromise on that.”
“Deal!” You clapped your hands before hugging your dad.
“Hold up, do I get a say in that deal?” Peter questioned.
“Don’t push your luck, kid. After what Vision walked in on you doing with Tony’s kid, you’re lucky to be alive right now.” Bruce said as he patted Peter on the back. Tony frowned as he pulled out of the hug.
“Hold on, what exactly did Vision walk in on?” Tony asked. Peter motioned for everyone to keep their mouths shut as Tony looked around the room. When no one answered him, he looked at you expectingly.
“So.” You laughed nervously. “Dessert, anyone?”
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
@officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @loudthoughts-softspoken
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
#peter parker x reader#peter parker x stark!daughter#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker smut#peter parker x you#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x y/n#peter parker imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x y/n
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make a move on me
➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k
➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]
➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.
If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.
The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.
But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.
Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.
Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.
The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.
Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”
There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.
Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”
Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.
He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.
But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.
There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.
The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.
Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.
It doesn’t work.
The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.
You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?
It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.
And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.
All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.
It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.
But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.
Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?
And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.
Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.
He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.
“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”
He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–
“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”
You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.
“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”
You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–
He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”
“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”
He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.
He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.
“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”
“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.
He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.
But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.
There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.
He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.
You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–
Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.
He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.
You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.
“Joel–”
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”
“I want it,” you affirm.
He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.”
He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.
“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.
“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”
With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.
Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.
“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”
“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”
There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”
“Flip over f’me.”
You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.
You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.
It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”
You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this.
“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”
“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”
“Please–”
“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”
He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”
And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.
His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.
“You ever taken someone here before?”
“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.
“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.
It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.
“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”
You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.
“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’
His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”
He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.
He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”
It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.
“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”
“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.
In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.
“What’d you call me?”
“J-Joel.”
His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”
“D… daddy.”
You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.
Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”
The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”
“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”
“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”
But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.
He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.
He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.
“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”
You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.
“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”
“Daddy–”
“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”
All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.
Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.
And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.
Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.
He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.
“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”
It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.
“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.
For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.
You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”
“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.
There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”
Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.
He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.
He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”
“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.
He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–
“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.
The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.
He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”
You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.
It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.
“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.
You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”
“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”
His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.
“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”
His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.
“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”
“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”
Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.
“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”
“Joel–”
“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”
“Yesyesyesplease–”
His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.
The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.
It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.
There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.
And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in.
“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.
Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”
You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.
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THIS IS US - LN
warnings: smut throughout!! MDNI!! unprotected sex, little bit of jealous!lando
snippets of lando and his girls sex life throughout the years of their relationship! <3 (can be read as a fewtrell!reader but it's not discussed)
masterlist the playlist
the first time -
y/n remembered her first time with lando like it was yesterday. the two of them, freshly 19 and still friends at the time, found themselves cuddled up on the sofa in his and max’s shared house. their friends slept dotted around the house, many of them drunk and sleeping in the first place their body stumbled into.
there’d always been a sense of something more between the two, friends from a young age, attached at the hip. they were close, too close for friends, max would tell him constantly - raising his eyebrows every time he caught them wrapped up in each other on the couch, or when they entwined their hands at any given opportunity. everyone around them had given up trying to push the two together, hoping they would come to their senses soon.
their first time happened so naturally, it was quite sweet actually. her head resting on his shoulder, as they sat together, her eyes staring wide up at his face. it was that moment he decided to go for it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips. he half expected her to push him off, but found himself pleasantly surprised when she kissed him back, escalating the kiss till she was straddling his lap.
“not here,” she remembered him whispering in her ear, pulling her up from his lap as he lead the two of them to his room. the two of them resuming there position on his bed, lando resting his back on the headboard, palms covering her waist as she hovered over his cock.
“-wait!” she panicked slightly, “i don’t know how to-”
“it’s ok, you’re fine. just breathe, ill guide you. go slow, yeah?” he reassured her. in the heat of the moment he had forgotten this was her first time with anyone, let alone him, and yet she’d decided to get on top.
y/n remembered lowering down on him, his grip on her hips allowing him to fill her slowly. lando distinctly remembered her shy moans, the way she tried to stay quiet, aware of the amount of people in the house.
“fuck me, angel. so tight,” he’d said, grunting slightly as she got lower, fighting to keep his hips still whilst she grew accustomed to the stretch, “last bit angel, you can take it.”
“there’s more?” she’d replied, panting slightly as he chuckled at her, “i can’t d-”
she remembered the way their eyes locked as he jutted his hips up into her, filling her whole. he remembered the way her mouth gaped open, and the way her head rolled back as his hands slowly rocked her hips over his length.
lando was gentle with her, kissing her softly throughout, his moans and praises merging together as she grew more confident, falling into a steady rhythm on top of him.
“i love you,” he’d grunted as his hands ran over her skin, trying to remember everything about her - the way she felt, the way she sounded, the way she clenched around his cock when she got closer. she reciprocated his sentiment, neither of them shocked at the revelation.
“you owe me a tenner,” max had said to niran the next day, after he’d found the two of them passed out in lando’s bed, smiling to himself.
getting caught -
the two of them gained more confidence with their sex life the following years. lando knew exactly what she needed, and how to make her fold for him. max had described the two as rabbits, going at it like no one’s business, laughing to himself as the trio constructed a new bedframe - the last one meeting its unfortunate ending when lando had taken out his stress on his girl. her legs had been over his shoulders when they heard a snap! and felt the mattress dipping into the broken slat. the paint on the headboard had long been chipped from the constant banging into the wall behind, and one of the legs was coming lose.
it had been mid-season, the two of them finding themselves in his drivers room after an unfortunate race. y/n had tried consoling him, but being comforting and supportive was not working at the time. he’d come round eventually and talk to her but for now, he had her pressed against the wall, her cheek pushed up against it. her skirt had simply been tugged up around her hips, panties to the side as he pushed into her from behind, roughly thrusting as he muttered curses under his breath. his hand was about to snake around her waist to toy with her clit when the door flung open.
“land- OH SHIT!” a voice had called out before dissolving into giggles, followed by the door slamming shut again. the shocked face of daniel ricciardo, followed by his distinct laugh, was something y/n was sure would never leave her brain. the interruption hadn’t bothered lando, the two of them were both covered enough for daniel to have seen too much, and so he took it in his stride, bringing them both to a finish soon after.
it had taken a while for y/n to look daniel in the eyes again without wanting to drop dead on the spot, her boyfriend simply smirked at the memory.
club, cameras, cars -
lando’s body was pressed up against hers, packed together in the busy club, their bodies moving in time with the beat. his hands stayed firmly on her waist, telling her it was so she wouldn’t get lost in the crowd, but realistically it had been his way of keeping her close to him. close enough that he could drop his head to hers, joining their lips together in a deep kiss. her tongue dragged along his bottom lip, before her teeth nipped at him, pulling away slowly to catch her breath. his hips grinding into hers, her hands running through his curls.
she was obsessed with him, his unbuttoned shirt, the way his necklace peaked through - she was feral for him.
he looked up momentarily, glad to meet max’s eyes, who directed him to the corner where a man similar in age was filming the interaction between the couple. he leant down to her ear again, so that she could hear him over the loud bass.
“someone filming us,” he told her, feeling her body tense slightly, “you wanna get out of here?”
she’d nodded at him. being filmed by anyone and everyone was nothing new for her, although she wished people would have some concept of privacy. it was somewhat infuriating, but she guessed that was the price she paid for loving the man in front of her. his eyes had softened at her, noticing her anxiety - she didn’t get anxious when people captured them driving around, or just living their normal lives. she did however when such intimate moments were filmed and posted on twitter for the world to see. people had strong opinions - strong opinions that they shared online all whilst hiding their own identities.
they walked next to each other, his hand clutching hers protectively as they said goodbye to max. a few cameras flashed as they walked towards lando’s car, the odd fan approaching him to sign something - they assumed someone had leaked where they were. it was these interactions she didn’t mind, the ones that didn’t make her feel like her whole life was being dissected by the media.
“’m glad max pointed him out,” he started as they climbed into the car, “don’t want to imagine how far i would’ve gone if he hadn’t.”
“you would’ve fucked me in the middle of a club?” she spluttered out, turning to stare at him as he pulled onto the main road.
“i’d fuck you anywhere, angel,” he replied with a shrug.
“you are the pr teams worst nightmare,” she joked, shaking her head at him again.
“hey!” he defended, “since when did loving my girlfriend become a crime?”
“it’s not,” she conceded, smirking to herself at her next statement, “the real crime is the fact you’re not pulling into that lay-by right now.”
“i- wha-,” he stuttered, taken aback at her boldness, “here? right now?”
“why not? there’s no one around.”
he didn’t bother indicating, pulling the car into the side lane, and hurrying to turn the lights off. his free hand adjusted the seat, rolling it back as far as it went before reaching over to grab the woman besides him. she clambered over the centre console, landing not-so graciously on his lap.
the whole interaction was messy and lacking in any decorum. his cock was deep inside her, stretching her out as he thrusted up into her. with every bounce her knees hit the side of the door or the centre console, sure to bring bruises to the skin from the sheer impact. she leant forwards into him, his hands trailing under her dress to squeeze at her breasts.
“baby, lean back a bit,” he had told her, desperate to see her face.
“lan, if i lean any further back im gonna hit the horn,” she said, still adjusting herself to lean up.
“you can hit my horn,” he retorted, giggling to himself at the childish joke.
“don’t make jokes when you’re inside me,” she begged, sighing at the man in front of her.
the counter -
y/n had remembered their move to monaco fondly, lando had been living there for a few months before she made the move herself. she recalled the heartfelt goodbye with her family and friends, her entire life packed into boxes and a suitcase as she moved to a country she’d never even visited. the move felt right, especially after 3 years together - 2 months of long distance was hard enough, neither of them could imagine spending anymore time apart. she’d set herself up as a small time content creator, working closely within quadrant to build up a sufficient income to support herself in between races. lando’s fans loved the snippets of domestic lando, but they also appreciated her wicked sense of humour and her biased insight on the world of motorsport.
once she’d settled into life at the new flat, traces of her personality dotted around, the woman found herself on facetime to her mum giving her a virtual tour.
lando had been out of the flat, spending his morning training, returning home sweaty but overjoyed to hear the sounds of his girlfriends voice travelling through their home. taking the opportunity to sneak up on her, he crept around the hallway, moving quietly towards the kitchen.
“praying my B in french GCSE is gonna come in hand- AH!” y/n yelped, almost dropping her phone as lando pounced on her shoulders, shouting boo! as he did. the older woman on the phone laughed as her daughters face went from startled to glaring at the boy behind her.
“i better leave you two be,” her mum had told them, smiling at the camera and waving slightly to the couple. the shock of her youngest child announcing that she was moving to a different country was wearing off gradually - the happiness of her daughter being with someone she’d secretly rooted for their entire childhood taking over.
“bye mum!” “bye y/m/n!”
y/n had placed the phone beside her, leaning back to rest on the counter. lando had fallen into her embrace, hands wrapping around her waist as he pressed kisses across her entire face. she leant into the kiss, joining their lips together in what had started so innocently. in what had started as such a wholesome day, talking to her mum about the new flat and spending time with the man she loved, quickly turned into something much more.
he’d soon noticed how the counter perfectly lined up with her waist, smirking into her lips as they kissed, before his hands twisted her waist, turning her by the hip until she was pressed up against the marble. her back arching as he bent her over, grinding her ass into him as she did. he’d tugged at her jeans, pulling them down her legs slowly, her lace panties following soon after. he’d allowed her a moment to step out of them, kicking her clothes across the kitchen floor, before kicking her feet further apart. his strong hand gripped her hip, stabilising her frame as he guided his cock through her folds, covering it in her slick before pushing himself into her fully. she moaned out for him, her hands searching for anything to grip onto for support, settling on wrapping around the coffee machine.
the counter pushed on her lower stomach, the pressure sending waves through her body as she tightened around him. he grunted at the feeling, his fingers finding their way to her clit, falling into a natural rhythm as he always did. lando knew her body like it was his own, he could map every bump, every scar, every freckle that adorned her skin. he knew where she needed him, and how.
“im gonna cum,” she’d whimpered pathetically, embarrassed at how quickly she fell apart for him.
“already?” he asked cockily, his hand landing harshly on her ass. lando took her moment of shock to run his hand up her back, his fingers settling at the base of her hair. he gripped at the roots, tugging her entire body back into his, her face settling next to his. he could hear the way she panted, the way his name tumbled from her lips like a mantra.
“always take me so well,” he moaned in her ear, exhaling as he did. the feeling of his breath hitting the skin of her neck sent her over the edge. she fell forwards, legs shaking beneath him.
lando’s hands moved back to her hips, holding her up so that she wouldn’t fall as he pushed her into the counter again. he thrusted into her for a minute more, his pace growing sloppier as he reached his own climax. y/n whined at him, overstimulated and sore - her noises short circuited his brain, and soon after he was filling her up, his cum leaking from the sides as he rode out his own high.
they panted together, lando pulling his cock out as they fought to catch their breath.
“how did we manage to fuck in the kitchen before our actual bedroom?” she chuckled, moving to grab her discarded clothes and shuffling towards the bathroom.
“never gonna be able to cook in here without thinking about this,” he replied with a shake of his head, as he followed her out of the room with a final glance at the counter. the coffee machine now skewed, water puddled around it from where she’d knocked the tank.
“lando norris? cooking? that’ll be the day the world spontaneously combusts,” she teased.
jealousy -
y/n had accompanied lando and max to the motogp event, finding herself in a deep conversation with someone she had hung around with during the karting days. she hadn’t expected to see him there, pleasantly surprised to catch up with an old friend who’d she’d spent a lot of time with growing up. she honestly saw no harm in it, lando and max had disappeared to film content of the day, so she saw no issue in speaking to him rather than sit alone, twiddling her fingers.
lando, however, was fuming not happy. he trusted his girlfriend in any situation, it was other men he didn’t trust, especially when he walked up to find y/n laughing loudly with a man he vaguely recognised.
“y/n, we’re leaving now,” lando told her, clenching his fists at his sides rather than taking her hand.
“oh- ok,” she replied, a little startled at his tone, “bye sam! was lovely seeing you!�� she said to the man, turning on her heel to catch up with her boyfriend.
“lovely to see you!” lando mocked childishly when she rejoined his side, “yeah bet he thought it was lovely to see you.”
“what is your problem?” she asked, stopping short of the car, arms crossed over her chest.
“what’s my problem? you. him. the way he looked at you?”
“are you serious?” she asked, taken aback, “he’s an old friend lando. grow up.”
“grow up?” he repeated, “you don’t see me laughing like that with old friends.”
“whatever you do with old friends is not my problem, i trust you to make the right decision. but clearly, you don’t trust me,” she responded, marching past him and climbing in the back of max’s car.
the two barely spoke for days, the silence made worse by the fact they were stuck together in max’s spare room. y/n spent her days with P, lando with max - the other couple desperately trying to speak sense into the two of them, knowing just how stubborn they both could be.
y/n finally believed their spat was over when he settled between her legs, eating at her like a man starved. she was stubborn, but never too stubborn to pass up the chance of his tongue on her heat. his hands gripped at her thighs, his grip leaving bruises on her skin. lando’s tongue swirled around her clit before sucking at her harshly. she was so close, hands gripping at anything - his hair, the bedsheets, his hands. but then she felt nothing, only cold air against her desperate heat as lando pushed himself away and stood up to move across the room.
she sat up on her arms, staring at him in complete disbelief.
“what the fuck lando?”
“you know what you need to do if you wanna cum,” he’d told her, dark eyes staring back at her. he wanted an apology, she wasn’t going to apologise. she’d done nothing wrong.
“good idea, lan. ill see if sam’s free,” she shot back, leaning forward to grab her phone from the bedside table.
that had been her mistake. potentially too brave in the moment, y/n genuinely didn’t know if she regretted even alluding to messaging the man causing the couples squabble.
“i didn’t mean it!” she’d moaned out, feeling his hand slap against the skin of her ass harshly, the feeling sending shots of pleasure back to her core, before he rolled her onto her back once more. he freed his cock quickly, roughly thrusting into her with no warning.
“’m sor- m’sorry,” she said again, her legs pulled harshly over his shoulders as he fucked into her. he wasn’t even mad anymore, yet he rammed into her as if to teach her a lesson, as if he was literally fucking the attitude out of her. she moaned out loudly at the feeling, lando’s grunts like music to her ears.
“you gonna behave now?” he asked her, pace remaining relentless.
“i wi- will,” she choked out, “i promise.”
“good girl, that’s more like it,” he said, satisfied with her remorse as his fingers returned to her clit.
she came hard and fast around him, the tightening of her walls bringing him to his own climax. he pulled out slowly, rolling to lay next to her as their chests heaved in unison.
“you know i do trust you, right?” he asked, finally willing to talk to her about the argument.
“i know. i just wish you’d show it, rather than getting angry when i speak to any man.”
“im sorry,” lando apologised, pulling her into his side and pressing a kiss to her head, “im trying my best, m’trying not to let jealousy get the better of me.”
“thank you,” she offered him, “and ill try not to provoke you. even if it does result in the best sex of my life.”
he chuckled lightly, his breathing finally stable. but no quiet moment between the two would ever stay quiet for long.
“im glad you guys made up and that, but next time can you not be so loud?” max shouted through the door, making the couple blush as they realised they’d forgotten that he was home, “oh, and you’re cleaning those sheets.”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked#maxfewtrell#fewtrell!sister
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