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letterlitter · 2 months

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Pacify Her

Lando Norris x reader

•Tags: smut, toxic Lando, hate-fuck, makeup sex

•Loosely based on a song by Melanie Martinez with the same title.

•Wordcount: 1.6k

It was unbearable how Lando squeezed this new girl's thigh and whispered in her ear. You knew it was to make you jealous, he was a tease even more when you two were in a relationship. You had really bad arguments that let to the decision of splitting, but since you didn't want to break up the friend group, you agreed to just say the relationship ended on good terms and decided to be friends which was a total lie and both of you knew it.

Now, only a couple months after everything, Lando had shown up with a new "girlfriend" which drove you absolutely mad how uncouth he could be. Bringing this girl in your group out of the blue fully knowing that neither you nor himself had moved on from that deep, long term thing you had.

She looked at you like she wanted to be your friend and get your validation so bad. You didn't know if Lando had told her you were his ex. He didn't even dare mention it when he was introducing her. You automatically hated her, although her big brown eyes seemed lovely and innocent. She didn't have a clue what she had gotten herself into. You pitied her cluelessness.

You noticed Lando's griny glances at you, he kept making sure you were looking before each kiss he left on her cheek. The bastard had all his moves coordinated and planned but you had been with him for too long not to see right through his facade.

You were at your limit, who was he to inflict this hurt on you after all that he had done?

Rage made your body dense as you walked towards Lando's house the night after, when you made sure nobody else was with him. His Friday nights had always been free on purpose to sleep until noon, game, and sleep again. You remember trying to wake him up for lunch and he was dead asleep because he had stayed awake to play with friends.

You rang and he buzzed the door open without asking. Walking towards the stairs you noticed the rose garden you had planted in a corner. The thought of Lando's face after a thorn had poked him in the arm and how he treated the flowers as his enemies forced your lips into a fainted smile. You hated that his memories made you happy. You hated it was him you had those memories with.

You pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on why you were here. Lando opened the door, a confused look on his face, "y/n? What is it why are you here?"

"We need to talk." And you stormed in.

"Please come in, make yourself comfortable." The sarcasm in his voice was familiar, and now that you weren't in love with him, infuriating.

"Want to talk about what?"

"About how you're being such an asshole."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't act like this Lando I know you did those things on purpose."

"Damn I don't know what you're talking about." He kept his sarcastic tone. You hated it.

You pushed his chest back in anger, "stop playing with me. You know damn well this girl you keep bringing is just a doll to mess with my head."

Lando smiled as if he had been expecting these words from you.

"This is way too low, even for you Lando."

"Everyone thinks we're friends, why can't friends introduce their new girlfriends to their other friends?"

"I'm not everyone. I know this is a lie stop trying to make it sound casual."

"What do you expect me to do? Stay single until you're over me?"

"Yes!" The loud sound that exited your mouth surprised you as it did Lando. You never planned to sound weak or needy. You just wanted to get closure, "look. I'm not trying to control your life or whatever, but what you're doing to make me jealous is messy and fucking pathetic. Fix it. Goodbye." And you started walking towards the door.

"Well did it work?" Lando's voice stopped you. He sounded sort of genuine for the first time in months.

You kept silent and still, wondering what to answer. Turning around to face him you said, "well do you love her?"

"Of course I do. She's very real."

You took one step closer, "stop lying."

Lando took a step closer to you, "stop being jealous."

You took one more step, "she looks way too innocent for you. I pity her."

Lando took another step , "I can teach her."

-"Funny."

-"I know."

-"You're insufferable."

-"I know."

Silence.

Now you were only one step away from eachother. Only one breath. You were mad at him and the tension felt heavy in the air as the sun was halfway set. His eyes looked crazy blue in the last golden rays of sunshine coming in fron his big windows. His face stingy and lips so soft it made you even more angry at him.

Your self control was getting shaky and you felt it shatter when Lando swinged his arms up to hold your face to kiss you deeply on the lips.

You squeezed your hand on his arm in protest to rip him off of you before it was too late but he was desperate.

He kept kissing you harder and harder like you gave him air to breathe.

You hated this. You hated the way his body pulled you in and you hated how it felt so good. He knew his way with you. Every single button, all the nooks and crannies.

You finally eased into the kiss, letting go of Lando's hoodie that was balled up in your fist and started to kiss him back.

His hands unzipped your sweatshirt and pulled it off your arms as soon as he felt that you wanted this as well. You let him. He slipped his hand under your tshirt, pinching your belly, messaging your back.

You let out a heavy exhale.

"I missed you." He whispered into your mouth, putting his lips on yours before you could say anything back.

Lando's hands moved down to your jeans but you held onto his hand to prevent him from going on. He stopped kissing you.

It was all too much for you and you hated him for being so good at this. You stared dead into his eyes, knowing full well that you were helpless, and said, "you fucking bastard."

He giggled when you pressed your debating lips on his again.

You let him kiss your lips, your neck, your collarbone, your breasts, your belly. You let him get down on his knees for you, between your legs.

His wet tongue on you made you jump in a surprising pleasure. The tip of his tongue moving in circular motions, in search of the place that made you moan the loudest. You tried fighting the sensation but failed miserably when he raised his finger to your entrance, messaging and warning about what's to come.

The moan that left your lips after he pushed his finger inside you was involuntary. You could feel Lando smiling on your pussy with the sound. He kept moving his tongue with your hand in his curls; pumping his finger and pulling moans out of you until you felt like you could take it no more. That's when Lando pulled his now soaked finger out and stood up, Leaving you clenching around nothing.

He faced you again to continue his kisses; you could taste yourself on his lips as he took off your tshirt and your bra, leaving you completely naked in the middle of the house. He looked at you once more before taking off his own hoodie you've been pulling on to get rid of since the start, he turned you around and got closer. His bulge rubbing against your butt from under his sweatpants.

"You're so pretty." He whispered into your ear, "wait here okay?"

You turned around to see him almost run to his bedroom to get condoms and you got a chance to take a look at his smooth, tan skin as he walked back.

Lando kissed you shoulder and your back as he slowly bent you over the handle of the couch. Messaging your body as he bent on you to let you feel his skin, his pants were off, your could feel his hard dick against the back of your leg. He adjusted himself on you and pushed in. You weren't hesitant to moan anymore. His length inside you was a familiar sensation of pleasure after this long. He was all you needed.

Lando started pumping deeper into you, making you feel fully stretched. You could hear his little groans and exhales when he grabbed your neck to make you arch your back more, pulling your head towards his mouth. "I bet nobody fucked you like this since I was gone." And he started moving faster. You pushed back your body into his, blurring the lines infront of your eyes.

You came within seconds after that.

He pulled out of you. You turned around quickly, grabbed his shoulders and lead him to the couch to sit down.

"Could you ever teach her this?"

And you climbed on top of him, each leg on each side. Leading his still erect dick to your hole and pushing down on him. Lando threw his head back with a moan. You took his hands and put them on your ass. He squeezed his hands with every movement you made.

You started kissing under his ear, where you knew he was sensitive. Moans started turning into whimpers and he started pushing up his legs towards you. You both moved faster as you reached your high. You nails dug into Lando's shoulder and his hands tight around your back when you both came and you collapsed into his arms.

****

"What a stupid decision." You said through your panting and you both giggled since you knew you were going to make more.

(This is the first time I'm posting a smut one shot online sorry if it's short or lacking♡)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris smut #f1 smut

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vamptastic · 2 years

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so far the project is going well in that i have my blueprints, lighting, electrical, the bulk of the plumbing, and most of the elevations and models done, but badly in the sense that i now hate looking at it and think the design and floorplan is terrible.

i made it in the sims because autocad renders are ugly and it looks like a school 😭. the lots aren't big enough to show the landscaping (mostly tall trees for windbreaks and shrubbery nearer to the building for fire walls) but this is generally the shape and size, although the windows couldn't be centered without misrepresenting the size of the building.

those big windows r supposed to be able to be propped up open for ventilation and lighting alà campers so they'll look cooler when they're open, i'm going to put in flower boxes, and i want to do something funkier with the windbreaks than a fence, but the giant rectangle design is kind of defeating me 😭. i wanted each individual unit to be a rectangle so you can freely assemble them and make a whole complex as needed, but it's so ugly.

there's this one very cool apartment complex in turin, italy, with these sort of support beams shaped like trees, and i wanna copy that, but i don't actually think i NEED support beams of any kind and then it just sort of becomes a carbon copy. maybe the drainage from the roof can be tree shaped? that could actually be kinda cool.

idk it's sort of too late to switch up the floorplan and i AM a 17 year old in a high school engineering class, so nobody is really expecting this to be groundbreaking new concepts for architecture as a whole, just for me to demonstrate that i know how to put together a big project like this, but still. i worked really hard on this and seeing it be so underwhelming is super frustrating. at least the water recycling system is cool.

#its all pretty novel stuff FOR OCALA like nobody in this town has geothermal very few have solar panels etc #so with all the new housing we're building if we did build some apartments incorporating gardens solar energy n geothermal itd be very new #and i think floridians generally are open to like wells and solar power even if everyone here thinks climate change is fake #like i did genuinely spend a lot of time reading abt eco friendly housing in tropical climates for this #and i think the connection between all the dif. systems im using (like the heating/cooling is geothermal n then the same well #provides drinking water while byproduct from cooling/heating the water for ac is used as irrigation in the garden #and rainwater instead of just weighing down the flat roof can be run through the planters sort of like gutters made of soil #its all pretty boring and standard on its own but i think the big picture is pretty cool #and i had fun reading about different forms of architecture from tropical countries and seeing what would work in this specific part of fl

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 10 days

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Cowboy!141 x Noble's Daughter!Reader (My Version of the AU)

(How you meet them)

Synopsis: Being the daughter of a noble is a jarring task as you must be always able to keep up appearances, so what exactly happens when your family hires 4 men? Men who seem dangerous yet you know nothing about, all happening to be part of the same group of people. What happens if they take an interest in you? Someone unattainable, forbidden yet also undoubtedly tempting..

Hi lovelies! Lia here again, apologies for the delay and inactivity, I had exams, projects and the recent release of part one of Bridgerton season 3. Speaking of the series, this was inspired by that and RDR2 (none of the elements are historically accurate, I think?), I genuinely hope this does well because this account has not been doing well as of late. With my mutuals leaving Tumblr and some friends are currently ignoring me, I genuinely don't know what to do anymore. From what I know, @ghouljams was the first one who created content in the cowboy!CoD AU but mine is a lot different? So please don't kill me 😭

This will result in headcanons for the next few posts because my brain is attached to this AU so you will be seeing more Cowboy!Outlaw!141.

(Really FEM!Reader, maybe also Plus-size!(Chubby??)Reader?? I don't even know anymore)

More content: My CoD Masterlist

Bless your noble mother's heart, although your was seen as this very respectable and intellectual man of nobility, your mother had this heart of gold having no idea that these rugged men he has newly hired were outlaws, criminals.. murderers?

Yet your father did, something about him felt sinister, well all noble money comes from not so noble cause.

Although your mother wanted you to get to know and be familiar with the newest staff members who would do all the gnarly, energy consuming and physically challenging tasks, she did not want her daughter interacting with men who would be considered improper like seemingly mysterious men who happened to be from a far town looking for a living.

Well without your father's or mother's knowledge, that rule was thrown out the window the moment you saw one of them carrying over some of the crates that contain given by some men to your father for his services and connections, particularly drawn to the one who never seemed to take off the cloth on his face.

Something about the way he stared at you, not seeing the rest of his face, depriving you of clues as to how he felt upon seeing the only lady of the house. You gave him a warm smile, for a moment you thought you saw his lips through the mask perk up, before walking off to the lounging hall for your tutoring on language.

It was odd, you observed them from afar a lot, your personal garden was your sanctuary and you can't help but do so when they talked so loudly, no sign of inside voices.

They called each other names.. Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. The man you encountered was named Ghost? Surely it's some alias. Well that wasn't something you should fixate on anyway so you leave for your tasks.

You find yourself feeling a little out of it after your lessons, hoping that a little stroll through the stables behind your family's estate would either help the information sink in or keep it shun out of your mind. Either way you'd find yourself in tranquil, you heard a thud behind you and turn to find so called "Ghost" behind you.

He had dropped a crate, one filled with weapons and uncharacteristically hastily picked up all of them without paying much attention. Such an action caused him to unknowingly cut his finger on one of the blades that fell out of it's sheath.

Your eyes filled with concern as you rush over to take his hand in yours before he tried to brush off the cut and get back to his duties. You knew it was dumb to be worried over something so small that the grown man doesn't even flinch and yet there you were, practically cradling his hand in yours.

A white handkerchief that was embroidered with your favorite flowers by your own mother, something you held dear and kept pristine.. using it on his finger to keep the blood from further gushing and wipe off whatever of the red residue was left on his hand.

As the blood stopped to your relief, you brought his finger and spontaneously pressed a feather-like kiss on the wound. You were so used to doing that for your little cousins, nieces and nephews that it was just a force of habit, your face flushed the very moment you looked up to meet his gaze, what possessed you to do that?

You placed the handkerchief in his hand and composed yourself, you told him to keep it and to bring the wound to the physician to get some antiseptics before running off to god knows where.

A few days after that incident, you meet another one of them except..

You couldn't help but rush, you were late for this supposedly short promenade your family has spontaneously planned. Your favourite gloves are no where to be found and with the three sisters you have, you checked room to room, seeing who might've borrowed the lacey white fabric with the sewn in bows.

Without looking your body slams into a wall, is it a wall? You softly groan, your delicate fingers brushing on your forehead that felt like it would bruise later on. Your eyes remained closed for a few seconds as the impact caused you to feel shaken, light headed.

You open your eyes to one of the outlaws, you blink up as your vision adjusted a bit, his dark skin against the light from the window really did something..

"Are you hurt, my lady?" He asked, his deep voice was smooth and rich, almost velvety. He held you up from falling.

"N-no.. Thank you, uhh..."

"Kyle, her ladyship can call me Kyle. Although I hope it's not too informal to your status, my lady." You smiled at his words, certainly a respectful fellow despite him and his group's reputation.

You felt warmth on your sides, his palms against the fabric that separates his skin on yours, he was only being kind for steadying you after you almost fell from the earlier impact but his touch felt addicting, too much as it continued to linger.

"Kyle, it is then" You said softly, suddenly a bit more aware of your surroundings.

Fuck. He was sure he felt something just by hearing the way his name fell from your lips. Normally he'd give people, employers only and only his last name. He was so used to having been called by "Garrick", he had no idea his name would sound different, so sweet coming from a pretty maiden's lips.

He stutters for a moment, realizing that his hands are touching a lady inappropriately, something only someone she's married to would have the privilege of doing. He swiftly removed his hands from your waist and formally excused himself from your presence with the excuse of his duties.

The next time you met one of them was through your mother's ball, she was always the first to throw one to bless the upcoming season of hopes that you, your sisters and brothers shall wed soon.

You had no taste for it after having a lord step on your feet at least 20 times and not even bother to apologize with how high of a pedestal he puts himself in, you found yourself escaping through the back of your estate to the gazebo in the center of your beloved garden.

You took your tight, restricting shoes off and felt the grass on your feet as you walked toward the gazebo, now close enough to see that you weren't alone but you still continued, your feet against the cooling marble platform. You sigh as you prop yourself to sit on the stone railing next to the stranger who was currently taking a puff of his cigar.

You turned your head away, you were thrown into a fit of coughs from the strong scent of the smoke while you swatch some of it away. You tried not to heave for actual air to breathe while the man next to you chuckles, making you feel irritable.

"M'sorry love.." his gruff voice whispers which make you turn towards him, the man offering you a comforting smile.

"Shouldn't you be in there with your family, miss?" Price asked. To which you hum, "I wanted some "fresh air" and silence" you answered. Moments of silence have passed, nothing but the sound of wind that rattled the trees a bit and each other's breaths.

You look towards the light of windows of your home, the ballroom filled with laughter and talk of celebration. You sighed, knowing you must return as your parents would come looking for you, also not wanting for them to punish you for sticking around unchaperoned with their new hires.

He knew you were about to leave, it would be rude for a gentleman to leave a lady without help, hmm? He wasn't a gentleman though, an outlaw, one of the worst titles one can ever bestow a man. He was considered to be of low honor but who cares?

He kneels down on one knee in front of you, gently taking your leg in his huge hand using his thigh as leverage so he can gently slip on you shoes. For a moment you felt his forehead on your knee before he pulls away and offers you his hand..

You took it hesitantly as he helped you off the railing, you look up at him meeting his eyes. Something about them burned, making your stomach churn but not in a manner of discomfort.

You watched his back as he walked away, his footsteps on the cold marble the only thing to be heard as the noise died down..

The morning after, you've barely had enough sleep, was it the events of the previous night? Nevermind, at least you had a day or two for yourself after conducting a proposition to your parents. Free time was worth it for the sore feet you had to endure.

Not really in the mood to change into anything tight or itchy, you remain in your night clothes. Finally, some well deserved time alone, comfortable and flipping pages of a book was your type of thing.

Sure, socializing has it's benefits however nothing beats your time alone or so you thought you were alone..

A table and a few chairs were set up by the servants to your request at the gazebo, giving you the perfect view of the greenery that you have planted the seeds of.

You had your head comfortably leaned onto lounge as you continued reading. Buts something was just so distracting, a few minutes of the constant snipping and twigs breaking, you look up wanting to see who was there tending to the garden.

Your eyes widened a bit, it was improper for a lady to stare a man who has very less clothing. Nothing but his jeans, belt and hat keeping his face shielded from the heat is toned, muscular and tanned torso and arms exposed.

A little later, you hear a grunt coming from the man, Soap was it? You can't quite remember much from the night you eavesdropped on them. You heard his footsteps on the grass nearing the gazebo but you didn't bother to look up, not until..

"Ma'am? May I stay 'ere a moment? Afraid the heat is getting to me" You look up from your book and sit up to see the same man breathless. You nodded and watched as he sat on the stairs, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

"Excuse me.." You said, loud enough to hear and catch his attention, he looks back from his position. You moved one of the chairs to face your lounge, "Please invite yourself here, I can only think of how uncomfortable the floor might be, especially when you are working at a weather like this one" Signaling him to take a seat on the chair you adjusted.

He gets up yet reluctantly makes himself comfortable on the seat, you pick a drinking glass on display from the silver tray and poured some of the cold lemonade into it, you place it down on the table and slide it to him, offering a warm smile. Your fingers on the base of the drinking glass slightly brushing against his as he takes it.

He thanks you for it and you both enjoyed the tranquil and peace.. yet you can't go back to your book, asking questions and being further interested by the man each minute passes.

The way he talked was something else, it was alluring, comforting and oddly lively, he's told you about his "past" and how he used to be a child.

"Was quite the troublemaker you see, though my family was poor and food was scarce, I found a way to feed the street animals I adore—"

You look at him, so invested on what he was about to say next, it was refreshing to have someone to converse with who isn't interrogating you and practically forcing their ideals of how many babies they want you to birth for them, practically wanting you to die for them.

"I used to steal bread from my neighbor, not a very nice man, selfish really. So I'd often sneak into his shack, leftovers, scraps and anything light enough for me to carry. I'd bring it to Lassie, my favorite stray dog. You remind me a lot of her Bonnie" He said.

"I remind you of a dog?" You weren't so sure if that's a compliment, then again he just called you "Bonnie", what exactly does that mean?

"Home, you remind me of home. Can't say I have felt this comfortable in years, friends and I are usually reserved yet you bring this side out of me, Bonnie. So what spell or witchcraft did you use?" He joked raising a brow at you, for a moment his attention falters as he looks down at the soft mounds of skin exposed on your chest.

"Eyes up here, Johnny."

You warned as you laugh at his question, you notice one of the servants coming out from the estate and into the garden, Johnny smiles and tips his hat to you to excuse himself so that he could get back to work.

Well this is interesting.. isn't it?

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @snowdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

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vivwritesfics · 7 months

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First Poly!landoscar thought! Reader is OBSESSED with Christmas and super excited to decorate but they’re away at races. Maybe they come home to a super over the top decorated house or something?? And Christmas baking! And movies! And hot chocolate!

Abu Dhabi. The final race of the year. Because of her studies, Y/N wasn't able to join her boyfriends on the last race. She had to stay home, cramming for all of the exams she had before Christmas.

Oscar and Lando kept themselves occupied, though. They called her when they could, but, usually, Y/N was far too busy to stay on the call for long.

Busy doing what, though? The boys thought studying.

Well, that was bullshit.

Over the years Y/N had amassed a great collection of Christmas decorations. She kept them up in the attic, the box completely overflowing. Boxes, I mean. There were several.

She dragged them down in the attic and left them in the hallway. The boxes had been very well organised and labelled from the previous years, so Y/N got right on with it.

She wrapped tinsel around the banister and placed a wreath on the front door. Y/N put lights up in every room, attaching them to mirrors, the kitchen cupboards, around the doorframes. She had three stockings, two with the boys logos and Y/N's with one of her passions.

Cushion covered with swapped to Christmas ones. The coasters, placemats, and kitchenware were swapped to the Christmas ones Y/N had been collecting. She had these mini light up plastic trees that she put in the window and Christmas-y candles that she put on any free surface.

When Y/N was done inside of the house, there was just one box of decorations left. It was the biggest, the one Y/N hadn't been able to close properly.

Pulling on her shoes and her coat, Y/N dragged the box outside with her.

***

It was Oscars first Christmas with Y/N and Lando. Oscar hadn't prepared him for the Christmas season with Y/N, and there was a good reason for it.

Lando drove them from the airport to the house the three of them shared. Their street was pretty much glowing as they drove down it, towards their house. It wasn't the street lights, though.

"Surprise," Lando said as he pulled into their driveway.

Oscar stepped out of the car with his mouth open. "Holy shit," he muttered as he looked at all of the lights on the front of their house. There were lights wrapped around their fence and lights draped over the hedges. Y/N had wrapped it around the little tree they had growing in the front garden.

Y/N had put out the light up reindeer and sleigh; she had individual lights lining the path and a small, plastic tree in the porch.

"Does she do this every year?" Oscar asked as Lando pushed his key into the lock and twisted it.

"It gets worse and worse every year," he answered as they dropped their bags.

Lando pushed the door shut and turned his attention to the rest of the house. "Y/N!" He called as he and Oscar walked through the hallway, heading straight towards the kitchen.

That was where they found Y/N. She was balancing rather precariously on a chair as Y/N attached fake mistletoe to the ceiling.

"Woah," Oscar cried. He rushed over to her as she stepped from the chair onto the counter. Oscar reached up, placed his hand on her waist as she finally managed to get the mistletoe onto the ceiling.

"Hey, Osc!" Y/N called as she stepped down and into arms. "Do you like the house?"

Oscar looked around at the kitchen. It genuinely smelt like pine and cookies. "I... love it. It's really bright," he answered quickly and kissed the top of her head.

"Lan, can you get the cookies out of the oven, please?" She asked as Oscar kept her in his arms. He leaned down, placing his chin on her shoulder as they watched Lando.

"You made cookies?!" He called as he raced over to the oven. Lando used the oven mitts to pull the cookies from the oven. "Oh my god, I love you!"

"Do you two love me enough to bring in the tree?"

The tree in question was out in the garden. It was tiny, only going up to Y/N's waist, but it was far too busy for her to bring in on her own. Y/N had bought it two years before and had been keeping it alive ever since. It was never going to get much bigger, not since Y/N was keeping it in a pot to bring it in the house for Christmas.

Lando and Oscar looked outside of the house, towards the tree in the garden, but they couldn't see anything. It was far too dark, being five in the evening and all. "Can we do it all tomorrow, babe?" Asked Lando as he joined them.

For a moment, Y/N thought about it. The little tree and a big tree was all they needed, but it could wait. "I have conditions."

"Go on."

"We watch movies in matching pyjamas."

Lando's face dropped. "You bought us matching pyjamas?"

"I bought us matching pyjamas."

"Let's fucking go."

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unsolvedjarin · 9 months

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just you wait sunshine.

pairing: (sebastian vettel x driver! reader)

summary: sebastian’s retirement has led him to reminisce his past life and mistakes, including you. little does he know, the universe is about to give him a second chance via a small bookstore in switzerland.

note: this went on WAYYY longer than i wanted it to be and it didn’t really go the direction i wanted either, but we move

content warning: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, more sebastian centric than reader centric tbh (sorry i just love him so much)

word count: 3.7k

Retirement had been good to Sebastian.

He’d finally been able to spend time in his farm house, plant some trees, grow a garden, and along with all that, still have time to drive cars whenever an event needed him to. It was like his entire life schedule magically cleared up in front of him.

He missed racing of course, he won’t pretend that he didn’t. After all, he spent 15 years in the sport, it was his pride and joy for quite a long time. But that time of his life is over, he’s accepted that. He wanted to enjoy the other things in life instead, be able to see and experience things that the busy life of being a driver didn’t let him experience.

Sitting on a chair in his porch watching the sun set, he reflects on what he could have done differently. Who he could have treated differently. And when only one name enters his mind, the same one that’s haunted him for the past 5 years, he sighs reluctantly and heads back inside to prepare his dinner.

—

2012

“What do you wanna do when you grow up?”

The question takes you by surprise as you take another swig of your beer. The moon shone brightly on the porch of whatever airbnb your team had set you up at, and the stars were sparkling like they had never before.

“What kind of question is that, Sebby?” you giggle. “Isn’t this what we’re gonna do for eternity? Racing?”

Sebastian shrugs, looking up at the sky on his foldable chair that you had brought on the trip. “Yeah but after that, you know? I’ve always thought about what my life will be like after retirement.”

“Okay old man, because you’re sooo close to retiring,” you tease. He gives you a playful light shove for that, smiling as he does. The air feels freer and lighter than it ever has before.

“But seriously,” Sebastian chuckled. “Have you ever thought about it?”

You ponder for a second before replying, “No, not really. I mean my career’s just starting, I haven’t really thought about the end. But when I do retire, I think I’d like to be a writer.”

“Like those egotistical types to make a biographical book about themselves?” Sebastian asks, earning a laugh from you. The sound made him feel things that he’d only ever felt before with you.

“God no,” you laugh out. “I don’t wanna be like those old blokes who get obsessed with themselves after they retire. I just wanna write fictional books, maybe under a pen name. Just a simple life; me, my theoretical dog, and my theoretical book.”

Sebastian nods with an understanding look in his eye. He wants that life too. A simple one, away from the public. Even now at his young age, the paparazzis and press were getting annoying quickly.

“I want to live in a house far away from the city,” he says. “Maybe the suburbs— no that’s too near…a farm! I’ll live in a farmhouse.”

You smile at the thought of Sebastian Vettel, two time Formula 1 world champion, just lounging about in a farm tending to his animals and crops.

“Wouldn’t it get boring? Or lonely? Milking your cows alone?”

He answers you with no delay, “Well I’d want you to be with me of course.”

You thanked whatever higher power was listening at that time that he couldn’t see how your blush formed over the darkness of the night. Regaining your sense of self, you reply, “What makes you think I’d want to go with you?”

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks genuinely. “You could write your books inside while I…I don’t know what type of farm I’ll make, exactly. But I’ll be tending to that and you can write your books with your theoretical dog.”

“It’ll be our theoretical dog, then.”

Sebastian replied with a soft smile, “Ours, then.”

—

He had settled on bees. Having a bee farmhouse. It wasn’t easy work, it was definitely more complicated than milking a cow like you had said, but it made him happy, and it made him content.

Well, as content as he could be.

You had your first kiss that night, Sebastian recalled. He remembers because even though you didn’t think it, he could see the red blush dusted lightly on your cheeks, a sign he made the right choice leaning in and making his move.

Preparing his dinner for one in his cozy yet lonely farm house, he realizes he could have had this all with you. If he had just been more kind and if you had forgiven him, you could have had all of this together. A life that both of you had always wanted.

—

2018

“Sebastian, I’m not asking you to retire or something, I’m just asking you to take a break, please,” you beg. He remembers your exasperated voice as clear as day.

“I can’t take a break, Y/N, you don't understand. If I don’t get at least podium in this race, that's it, my career is basically over.”

Scoffing, you replied, “Your career isn’t over just like that, you’ve still got another year with Ferrari for christ’s sake.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, opting to turn away from you and put on his racing gear instead.

He’d been distant the whole season, the tension between the two of you increasing and increasing that finally it just snapped this race weekend. He’d been icing you out, acting like you didn’t exist because he was ‘practicing for the races ahead.’

At first you understood, you were a driver too. You recognized the difficulty of always losing race after race, how after a while it took a toll on your mental wellbeing. So you gave him space.

Then, when that didn’t work, you tried reaching out, helping him. It was the worst mistake of your life. Every time you tried to talk to him, to ask him what was wrong so you could help, he kept pushing you further and further away, acting like you were getting in the way of his work, sometimes even getting angry.

That went on for the whole season, until finally today, on qualifying morning, you snapped and demanded he talk to you.

“What the hell do you mean ‘I wouldn’t get it’? I have the exact same job as you,” you accused. You’d been patient for months and his vagueness was starting to get on your nerves.

Whipping his head around angrily to face you he replied, “You don’t have to reach the same standard as I do. I have to constantly prove I’m the best, and you constantly prove to be a midfielder.”

Oh.

That was a low blow, even Sebastian knew that. Your relationship had been teetering on the edge for the past year, but this was a make or break moment, and he knew exactly which one of the two it was going to be.

“So it’s like that,” you decided with a tone of finality. Sebastian wanted to ask for your forgiveness right then and there, to apologize, to make up for the last few months of being an asshole, to beg you not to throw away your years together just like that.

But he knew he was in the wrong, and he was too stubborn and egotistical to apologize.

Sensing the silence from him, you nod with teary eyes you tried so desperately to stop from flowing freely. Sebastian wanted nothing more to wipe them away, to hold you in his arms, but he never could do it.

“This is how you want it to end?” You asked him. It was a genuine question. You were giving him one last choice, one last chance to make up for how he’d been treating you the past year.

He stayed silent.

“Enjoy your fucking career, Vettel.”

—

He won that race. It was his first win of the season, but he felt like he had lost the championship itself as he stood on that podium, eyes looking for you in the crowd like he usually did, finding you absolutely nowhere.

After your argument he tried to talk to you in the paddocks but you constantly avoided him, the act not being hard when he wasn’t allowed inside your team’s hospitality building nor paddock. That fight was the last sensible conversation with each other you ever had.

You retired the year after that. You moved out quietly from your shared home, and he heard you stayed with Jenson for quite a while. He couldn’t blame you, Jenson had always been kind to you— Sebastian had no place to be jealous.

Hearing the beeping of his oven, Sebastian snaps out of his trip down memory lane to grab his dinner. It was a tray of lasagna, one he was sure he would be eating again tomorrow lunch because of the size of it.

He thinks about how he wouldn’t have to place the excess in a container for tomorrow if he just had someone to share it with. If he could share it with you.

Going through his grocery list at 10 in the morning, Sebastian notices a new store out of the corner of his eye. He’s been to this street countless times to do his grocery down the road— they had a brand of milk that no other nearby grocery had— but he had never seen that store before.

It was a bookshop. A small one compared to the large shops that surrounded it, but it stood out enough to be noticed yet cozy enough to feel inviting. It was a cold morning in Switzerland, and the heater inside just invited him further in until he found himself standing at the doorway, taking in the smell of books and the absolutely gorgeous decor.

He will admit, he hasn’t seen a bookshop like this in quite a while. The second he stepped foot inside he felt the love radiate through it, as if he knew the owner personally and how they had a passion for their store.

All Sebastian could think about, however, was how much you would love this. How you would adore running your fingers through the spine of a second hand book, or how you would pick a fresh new one for him to read and he would do the same for you, just like you both did back then.

He won’t pretend that he never looked for your book when you retired. He knew you weren’t joking about publishing one, he just didn’t know what pen name you chose so he never could find it.

“Looking for something specific?” A voice makes him turn his head around to see the woman behind the register looking at him inquisitively. He realizes that he was just standing in an aisle not really reading or picking up a book.

Sebastian shakes his head, “Not really, just browsing. I was thinking about how a friend of mine would have liked to see this store, it’s right up their alley.”

“Why don’t you invite them then?” A different voice speaks.

…It can’t be.

That voice.

No, he was hallucinating, dreaming maybe. Yes, this was a dream. That would be the only explanation why from behind him he heard a voice he missed so dreadfully, one he tried imagining talk to him again some nights, one he watched old videos for, one he—

“Sebastian?”

It was you. He would recognize your voice anywhere. He turns around, and the world seems to slow down as if it suddenly focused on just the both of you. The background blurs and everything is hazy and distorted but you were there. Standing in front of him, actually real. Older than he remembers but not in a negative way, just more mature. More peaceful. More you.

Staring at you in the middle of a bookshop in Switzerland after 5 years, Sebastian couldn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. What would be right? Would there be words he could tell you that would make you ever forgive him?

“I-” “You-”

You both start at the same time, making you laugh at each other. It was the first time he’s seen you smile since 2016. He used to say he would burn cities to see you smile, and he’s glad he knows now that that feeling hasn’t changed.

“You first,” he says. He wants to hear what you’ll say so he can choose his words better.

“I, uh,” you laugh awkwardly. It was still a beautiful sound to Sebastian. “I was actually slightly expecting to see you here.”

Oh. Well he didn’t expect that. You…you were expecting to see him? Like purposely thinking about him? The thought boggled Sebastian.

Noticing his visible silence, you speak up again. “I co-own this bookstore,” you smile. “I knew you lived around the area so I expected I’d bump into you eventually. It’s not the main thing that I do, but my Swiss friend you just talked to behind the counter wanted to make a bookstore but was low on funds so I decided to help a friend out, you know?”

Oh he knows. You were always so kind when it came to your friends. He remembers, he used to be one of them.

“That’s really nice of you,” Sebastian says. He slaps himself internally for the dumb reply he gives. “You uh, you look great.” Way to fucking go Sebastian. What a great conversation saver.

“Not in a weird way, of course. I mean I would never try to make you feel uncomfortable by saying that. Did you feel uncomfortable? Was it weird? It probably was. I mean I haven’t seen you in so long and that’s the first thing I say it’s so stupid and I could have said something of significance but—”

You stop Sebastian before he rambles on any longer. Holding his fidgeting hand, you chuckle at the sight of the nervous German in front of you. “Relax, Seb. I’m not mad. I’ve moved on.”

Oh.

“You have?” He asks, not thinking before he speaks because he knows he hasn’t. How could he move on from the best thing that ever happened to him and the biggest mistake he ever made?

The question takes you aback, pulling your hand away from his. For a second Sebastian thinks he’s messed up all over again, but you simply reply, “I meant from racing. But I know what you think I mean.”

“Can we catch up? I’ve missed you.” Sebastian hears himself say it before he even realizes the implications of his words.

“Oh.” you say with a pause. It makes Sebastian’s heart sink. Maybe you really have moved on, but in a way that you didn’t want him in your life anymore. He gets that. It looks like you’ve built a nice life for yourself outside of racing. Even if he never gets to be in it. He’s proud of you for being able to move on. “How about we sit down for some coffee first? I know a place near here.”

Oh thank god. Sebastian wasn’t ready to be deprived of you again so quickly.

Walking to the cafe, the air was thick with the tension between the two of you. While your accidental meeting in the library had gone well, the spark of the moment had faded and the reality of the situation had settled in. This was someone Sebastian had deeply wronged, someone he still deeply loved, and there were too many words unsaid there about both.

Sitting down at the window seats— he remembers how you loved sitting there so you could watch the people outside— you flag down a waiter to take both your orders.

“I’ll take a macchiato and— Seb do you still take your coffee black?”

Nodding, he looks out the window with a light blush on his cheeks. The fact that you remembered his— albeit simple— order made him happy and he had to catch himself otherwise he would be smiling like a teenage boy again. It was truly the little things.

“So,” he speaks up, straightening up and looking at you.

“So,” you mimic. “I go first or you go first?”

“My life has been pretty televised before I retired, there’s nothing really surprising in it. You go first.”

You spend the next 30 minutes filling him in on your life, how you avoided the media for the past few years, how you live in a cozy home with your dog, how you still exchange presents with some of the older grid during Christmas (Sebastian admits he got jealous here).

But the most important part was when he heard how you finally wrote that book you always talked about.

“Really? You finally published it?” Sebastian asks. He could see how the smile on your face was genuine, unlike the many times he saw you put on a fake one for the press or the media. It made him happy.

“Yeah, I finally found time after I retired to start it. Surprisingly it’s actually much harder and less peaceful than I thought it’d be.”

“At least it’s not a biographical book,” Seb jokes. The throwback makes you giggle, but it also makes you both acknowledge the elephant in the room. There were still so many things left unsaid, you both didn’t know where to start.

“Y/N back when I said those things, you know the ones, I didn’t mean them.”

Giving him a sad smile you reply, “I know, Seb. But it doesn’t take them back. Besides, that silly argument was just the straw that broke the camel's back, we were on the edge of our relationship for so long, you knew that too.”

“I know, but that was my fault it was on the edge too. I kept pushing you away because of Ferrari and how disappointed I was in my career. I didn’t realize at the time how much it was hurting you until I finally lost you. I know it makes no sense to say it this late when all is said and done, but I am sorry.”

Sebastian’s words stunned you to silence. You knew he never meant pushing you away, despite your last fight he was never intentionally that unkind, it was just racing that pushed him to be like that back then. But hearing the words coming from him hit differently, the way he said the two words you’ve been yearning for for years. I’m Sorry.

It couldn’t make you forget, but it could make you forgive.

“I know you are, Sebby,” you say. The old nickname brings a nostalgic smile on his face. “I’ve forgiven you years ago, just after I retired. I figured I should let go of my ghosts and that’s what I did. Though I won’t lie, your ghost did put up quite a fight giving me tears at night,” you joked. Sebastian could sense the hint of sadness in it.

He wishes he could make it all go away, to fix it just like he used to be able to. But he knows it’s not that easy. Not when the years have separated you both. It’ll be hard getting your trust back to let him into your heart even just as a friend, but goddamn if he wasn’t going to try and fix it.

“Will you ever show me the book?”

The question catches you slightly off guard. “I doubt it. It’s not up your alley anway, historical fiction.”

“Anything you write is up my alley. Maybe you can come over sometime and show it to me,” he says, not realizing the underlying meaning to it.

“Careful, Sebastian,” you say. “Forgiving is easy when you’re given time, but forgetting is harder. Let’s take baby steps.”

Baby steps. He could live with that. To Sebastian it doesn’t matter if it takes days or years to get you back in his life, he’ll let you take your time. You deserve it. And if you choose in the end to walk out of his life again, well, then he deserves it.

You hug each other goodbye when you leave, the hug lasting longer than it should have. He knows he promised baby steps, but when you buried your head into the crook of his neck and tightened your grip around him softly, he couldn’t resist pulling you closer to him and holding you there for a few seconds. He misses this, the closeness of it.

He sends you his address if ever you were in the area again, and you notice how the profile picture he has for you on your number was still the one of you when you were both rookies. It made you happy.

Sebastian didn’t expect anything more to happen, he spent that night contemplating what good deed he must’ve done to bring you back into his life again. Whatever it was, he was grateful he had done it.

The next afternoon as he was reheating the Lasagna— that he ultimately forgot yesterday— in the oven for lunch, he heard his doorbell ring. Opening his door he spots a package on the floor, one that was wrapped with a cute bee themed wrapping paper. It made him chuckle. He expected that whoever or whatever was at the door was you, but this was the next best thing.

Sitting down on his porch chair, he opens the package delicately as if it were fragile. He can feel the outline already, it was a book. Moreover, it was your book. Sebastian couldn’t believe it.

There was a note attached that read, ‘Forgot to tell you yesterday. I missed you too.’

The few words were almost enough to bring him to tears, but he continued and opened the book to scan its contents. The typing Published 2020 stands out, making him realize how long he’s missed out on this.

But what truly catches his attention is the dedication. Smack right in the middle, the words to be seen by everyone, read; For my Sunshine, the amount of words left unsaid will never match the amount of love I still have for you in my heart.

He may not be able to fix his mistake just like that, but Sebastian would wait however long it took for you to love him again, as a friend or as another. As long as his sunshine was in his life again.

#sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #formula one #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine #fanfic #writing #f1 fanfic #f1blr #f1 x reader #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending

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sociorafe · 5 months

Text

THEM BEING JEALOUS/POSSESSIVE

jj maybank & rafe cameron

warnings: use of cocaine, alcohol, mentions of sex, slight degradation?

author’s note: im not too happy with this one if im honest, but i don’t want to waste it and delete it. i hope you guys enjoy reading tho. feedback is highly appreciated <3

taglist: @rafetopia @drewstarkeyslut @rvfecamerons @rafeology @drudyslut

• RAFE CAMERON

You know you’re pushing his buttons, but you genuinely can’t help it. When he gets like this, you almost get a high off of it. What cocaine is to Rafe, his jealousy and possessiveness is to you.

Given that it was your idea to throw a garden party at Tannyhill, Rafe made you swear on your life that you’d behave and not show him up.

And unfortunately for him, as soon as you get a drop of alcohol in your system, you’re practically done for.

You can sense the concentration in Rafe’s stare as you parade yourself around, almost flashing your lacy thong as the wind gently blows the hem of your dress up. Yeah, you can’t control the wind, but you chose to wear a dress so short that you risk your modesty.

“You know he’s gonna flip, right?” Wheezie says, suddenly appearing from behind a pillar. You almost jump out of your skin.

“Wheezie?” You look at the glass in her hands before risking a glance over your shoulder. Rafe already on alert as he sees you talking to his little sister. “You know you’re not supposed to be out here. It’s a party, you should be in your room.”

She rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her drink through the curly straw. “You’re starting to sound like Rafe.”

You fight back a smile. “If I was starting to sound like Rafe, I’m pretty sure I’d be meaner to you.” You grab the drink from her hand and give it a sniff before tasting it. “Seriously, Wheezie? Rafe’s gonna kill you if he finds out you’re drinking his alcohol. Go pour it down the sink.”

She peers behind you, eyes slightly widening before she begins to retreat. “Looks like Rafe’s gonna kill you instead. See ya, Y/N!”

Just before you go to reach for her, a strong pair of hands grip your waist and spin you around. You look up slowly until your eyes settle on your boyfriends ever-so blue ones. You see that his pupils are blown and there’s a small residue of that glorious white powder around his nostrils.

“Wanna tell me what that was about?” Rafe’s voice is calm and collected, something you’ve rarely heard. “Or should we talk about the fact that my girlfriend is walking around my house like a slut on a runway?”

You’re starting to wish you didn’t drink too much alcohol, because you’re finding him crazy attractive right now.

“Or we can talk about the fact that you get to slide your cock in my pussy every night and no one else does?” You raise an eyebrow. You know you’re pushing your luck, but oh well.

Rafe pulls you closer to him, both of your fronts pinned against each other. “Feel like I need to teach you a lesson, yeah?”

Your heartbeat picks up. “Yeah? Does my Rafey wanna teach me how to be good for him?” You swipe his bottom lip with your tongue and you slide your hands down his torso to grip onto his belt— you can feel a dozen eyes on you, but you couldn’t care less.

Rafe pins you with a dark look. “Keep this prissy bitch act up, and I’m gonna have to bend you over and fuck you in front of everyone. Is that what you want?” A hand slides into your hair at the back before roughly tugging and exposing your neck. “Is that what you want, Y/N?”

You know he’s waiting on you to answer, so you muster up all of your courage and give him a snarky response. “Don’t be stupid, Rafey. I’d only want Topper to watch.”

“Fucking slut.” Rafe growls before sinking his teeth into the soft skin between your neck and shoulder.

• JJ MAYBANK

You were helping Kiara out at The Wreck since her parents had to leave on business terms that you weren’t allowed to know. Normally you’d press Kie about what’s going on, but she didn’t seem to be in the mood to open up to you.

“Table by the window needs their order taken.” Kiara points in the general direction of a table of cute guys. “I gotta do some stock taking, do it for me?”

Even though she said it like a question, you knew she was practically ordering you. “Yes, boss.” You give her a salute and she rolls her eyes but you caught a glimpse of a smile before she went out back.

You grab the order pad and pen from by the till and make your way over to the table. Up close, they were even more cuter than you expected. If JJ was here, he’d be vibrating in his seat wanting to do something to show you were his.

“Hey, what can I get you guys? Any drinks?” You gice them a smile and they all share a look between each other. Your stomach flips slightly, but you keep your composure.

“Just water.” The closest one to you answer, his eyes unmistakably moving up and down your frame.

You shift from one foot to the other, “Waters, got it. Anything else? Are you ready to order food?”

One of them drops the menu on purpose by your feet and he reaches down, but as he picks the menu up, he makes sure to graze his fingers along your bare legs.

You immediately take a step back and collide with a hard body. JJ Maybank. You knew the press of his chest against your back anywhere.

“Am I seeing correctly?” JJ tilts his head to the side, a strong arm wrapping around your chest and pulling you further into his body. “Did you really just touch my girlfriends leg?”

The guy blinks and says nothing.

“I asked you a question.” You feel JJ’s breathing begin to quicken and you know you only have a few short minutes before he blows his cool.

You spin in his hold, your hand placing against his chest to lightly push him backwards away from the table. “It was probably an accident, Jay, just leave them. Go wait over there, I’ll be with you in a minute, okay?”

JJ moves his dark gaze from the guys and when he looks into your eyes, they soften. “Are you okay? Because if you aren’t, I’ll happily snap their necks.” He makes sure to say the last part louder for the table to hear.

You nod your head, giving him a soft kiss on his lips before turning him around and pushing him in the other direction.

You turn back to the table. “I’m gonna grab your waters, but I just gotta warn you— they could be poisoned, but who knows.”

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

Lance never shuts the fuck up.

Keith can’t get enough of it.

It’s been like that for as long as Keith can remember. Lance was the motormouth in, like, 6 of his classes; always had his hand up with a question or answer, and comments in between. Keith had been annoyed with it, that first year.

But then he’d shared classes with Lance again.

And again.

By then, they’d had their fair share of group projects together. Keith came to know that for all he was a rambling mess, Lance was really fucking smart, and funny besides. He was also endlessly kind and supportive, at least when he wasn’t egging on their rivalry that he’d invented (and that Keith hadn’t known they’d had — not that he wasn’t an active participant, once he knew. Riling Lance up was the most fun he’d had in ages).

Keith doesn’t remember exactly when he’d started smiling whenever Lance looked at him, feeling proud whenever Lance got a question right in class. Doesn’t remember when the mild annoyance turned to genuine appreciation. He does remember looking down at his notes one day, in Algebra II, only to discover a blank page, and realising that he’d spent the whole class just watching Lance talk. (He also remembers feeling pleased instead of the disappointment he should have felt, because he figured he’d have an excuse to hear Lance talk more if he asked him to help Keith catch up. He knew he was in quite the mess, then.)

Keith knew he had a crush on Lance, after that. And Keith was never one to sit idly — he’d asked Lance on a date right then and there. Lance had, for the first time in Keith’s working memory, gone speechless. (And quite the pretty shade of red.)

The speechlessness didn’t last long, that’s for damn certain. Keith took Lance to the Applebee’s at the plaza near his house that very night, because Shiro worked there and would give him a discount. Also, Lance had once mentioned he liked the lemonade there.

Keith met Lance there because neither of them had their full license yet. He doesn’t remember what exact table they sat at, only that they must have been near a window, because Keith remembers swooning over the sunlight warming Lance’s beautiful brown eyes no less than six times. They’d ordered, Keith some sort of fried dish and Lance — Lance had ordered a four-cheese fettuccine with a garden salad and, of course, a lemonade. Keith remembers so specifically because Lance spent the next thirty minutes excitedly telling him every piece of history surrounding the dish, down to the prehistoric origins of wheat-made pasta and the disturbing account of the first pink lemonade. He’d looked sheepish after looking at his watch and realising how long he’d been talking, and Keith hadn’t known how to assure him that Lance could narrate every detail of paint drying in a wall and Keith would swallow up every word.

(Later that night, Shiro sent him a picture he took while the both of them were distracted — Lance, animatedly waving a fork in the air as he lectured, and Keith, chin in his hands, meal forgotten, looking at Lance with a face more besotted than he knew he was even capable of making.

Keith sent the photo to Lance, asking him if he’d like to go out again, confessing that he enjoyed every second of Lance’s rambling.

Lance said yes. Very quickly.)

The rest, to a degree, had been history. They’d dated for the rest of high school, staying together even as they attended university and trade school on either side of the country. It was easy, really. Lance made sure they always had something to talk about. (Lance loved university. He was enamoured with every second of it, every niche interest of his getting its fill. He switched his major fourteen separate times, chasing every one of his ambitions, and Keith loved every story he heard. He also liked becoming an expert by proxy, because that was inevitable — you could only hear about the important of spiders in the ecosystem so many dozen times before the information was reflective whenever someone brought up the subject.)

As soon as Keith got his mechanic’s certificate — and he passed his exam in the highest percentile, meaning he could practice anywhere in the country, much to his pleasure and Lance’s overwhelming pride — he took off to California, his one and only thought being that he had to get to Lance. (Not that it had been impulsive — this was planned, something they’d been waiting for. Did Keith run over as soon as he could? Yeah, kinda. So maybe it was a little impulsive. But mostly it was planned.)

Not to sound like a Disney princess, but Keith really felt like their life began once they moved in together. Keith was able to find a job at a pretty decent garage, bring in money for them immediately. Lance had his library job until he graduated, and of course then he was snatched up by the nearest ecological restoration effort — he got to spend his days crawling through the forest, fawning over every tiny bug and critter. He is so fucking cute. Keith loves him more than anything in the world.

Lance’s constant lectures never stopped, either — any interest he picked up, he told Keith about it. From his knitting club to the new beetle species he’d found at work, Keith got the pleasure of hearing about it. And it truly was a pleasure. Keith had his fair share of time being a motormouth, too — he’d bought a project bike as soon as they’d saved enough, and spent a fair chunk of free time building it back up. (Lance helped, or at least as much as he could. Mostly he sat in their garage, handing Keith tools, and talking about anything he could think of. If Keith could go back and tell his ten year old self what his future would look like… God. Sometimes he can’t even believe how lucky he got.)

Keith has it made. He comes home from work every day to Lance’s beaming smile and gentle teasing about the grease on his clothes. He’s got everything he’s ever wanted. He’s happy. So fucking happy.

Except that things have been a little different, recently. For the past few weeks, he’s been coming home to his usual smile and kiss, but the idle chattering or excited rambles — Keith feels as if they’ve become a rarity. Their home used to be filled with the sound of Lance’s voice, silent only when he’s reading or focused intently on something, eyes narrowed and tongue peeking out of his mouth.

Lance still looks happy. He still curls up with Keith on the couch after dinner, socked feet in Keith’s lap and three million blankets over his shoulders. He still sends Keith a myriad of heart emojis on his lunch break. Their sex life has not suffered.

But the lectures. The constant infodumps of whatever passing thing has grabbed Lance’s attention. They’re gone. And Keith’s devastated about it.

He misses Lance’s voice.

———

Shiro is not getting it.

“It doesn’t sound like a big deal,” he says, voice staticky because signal at the shop is ass. “I mean, maybe you two are just growing up and settling down. How long have you guys been together, now? Seven years? Eight?”

“Almost ten,” Keith says quietly.

Ten years of the same thing. This change is new. It’s strange, and Shiro isn’t getting it at all.

“Exactly! Ten years! You guys were so young when you started dating, kiddo. Hell, Lance was still wearing braces, wasn’t he? I’m not shocked that he’s mellowed out a little.” He chuckles to himself. “Hell, maybe he’s finally just learnt every bit of knowledge he finally can.”

Keith frowns. “I dunno, Shiro. Sometimes I feel like he wants to say something, but he’s holding himself back. Why would he ever hold himself back from me? I don’t — I don’t want him to hold back from me. I like it when he talks.”

“Tell him that, then. The only way you’re going to get answers is if you ask him, you dork.”

“Some brother you are,” Keith mutters, pouting. “You’re supposed to solve things for me.”

“Hm. Pretty sure you’re a grown-ass man who’s capable of solving his own problems, bud.”

“Ugh. You’re horrible. I’m changing the Netflix password to kick you off.”

Shiro laughs. “Sure! No more Costco membership for you. Password sharing goes both ways, you little snot. Now hang up and call your man. I have to leave for work soon.”

Despite his ongoing frustration, Keith can’t help a smile at the familiar banter. “Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your upcoming fourteen hour shift of hell.”

“Go fuck yourself! Love you!”

“Love you too. Bye.”

It shouldn’t really surprise him that Shiro’s no help. As much as he pesters his brother as often as possible and generally finds joy in making himself into a nuisance, they haven’t seen each other face-to-face since Christmas. They’ve lived in different states for years.

But, still. There’s some part of Keith that will always think of his big brother first when he has a problem. And that part of him had the right ideas, because Shiro is unfortunately right — he really does just need to talk to Lance. There’s not much else he can do.

He spends the rest of his shift wondering how he’s going to bring it up. He has his own motormouth moments, sure, but realistically? Keith doesn’t talk all the much. He’s more of an action person. How the hell is he supposed to breach the subject? ‘Hey, Lance. I’ve noticed that you are talking less. This change has consumed my every thought. I miss the sound of your voice. How come you don’t talk to me about your life anymore?’

Yeah, no. It sounds ridiculous even in his own head. He’ll have to — plan it out, maybe. He’s not sure. He’s never had to worry about making Lance talk more before.

He’s so distracted that he nearly burns off his eyeballs, forgetting to put on his welding mask before trying to make a part he couldn’t source for an older car. His boss sends him home early, worried he might accidentally leave a blowtorch by an air compressor or something and send the whole place up in smoke. Keith tries to take it as a blessing — maybe he’ll ride around on his bike for a while and clear his head. A way to bring it up might come to him naturally.

It doesn’t. He spends the whole ride just stressing himself out. He does drive by a flower stand, and turns around to pick up some poppies and peonies — Lance’s favourite. It won’t breach the subject, or anything, but it’ll make Lance smile. Hell, maybe he’ll start talking to Keith about all the different pollinators that made this bouquet possible. That would be a dream come true.

He hasn’t come up with any new ideas by the time he makes his way home, but he’s less stressed. He sets the flowers on the counter and takes a quick shower. Maybe he’ll start some dinner? Surprise Lance, for a change. Yeah. That won’t solve the problem, but it’ll be nice anyway.

He starts making four-cheese fettuccine and pink lemonade, because he is a sappy loser.

By the time he hears Lance’s key in the lock, he’s got the table set and the food is done. He keeps it heated on the stove, ducking into the bathroom to check his reflection as Lance steps into the apartment.

No grease smudges on his face. His hair is braided, the way that always makes Lance all blushy. He’s wearing the v-neck, too-tight black sweater that Lance likes, too. He’s got this. He doesn’t have a solid plan, or anything, but he thinks maybe if he turns up the romance then Lance will just spill whatever’s wrong. That works in the movies.

“Keith, baby? You home?”

“You have leaves in your hair,” Keith says, stepping out to meet Lance by the door. Lance smiles immediately, laughing to himself as he cards his fingers through his hair in an attempt to find them. Keith takes pity on him after a few seconds of fruitless searching, reaching forward and running gentle hands through the curly mess of his boyfriend’s hair, half to get out the leaves and half just to touch.

“Yeah — climbed a tree to check out a new weaver ant colony. Watched ‘em for hours — pretty boring, I’m sure you don’t want to hear it.”

I want to hear about it, Keith thinks mournfully. Please, please tell me about it.

“I made pasta,” Keith says quietly, when it’s clear that no more details are forthcoming. “And, uh, got you some flowers.” He tugs Lance gently towards the kitchen, placing the flowers in his hands.

“Oh, Keith, they’re gorgeous! Man, I love peonies. They looks like pink cabbages, it’s the best. And poppies —”

Yes, Keith thinks. Tell me about how California poppies were traditionally used as stress-relief medicine, but not like opioid red poppies. Tell me —

“I should put these in a vase,” Lance says instead of any of that. Keith feels like he could cry, honestly. Lance leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek, patting him on the chest. “You want to set the table while I do that? Or do you want to eat on the couch and watch a movie?”

“Table sounds good,” Keith says, because if they watch a movie then there’s no chance of Keith finding out what’s wrong.

“Okay! I’m going to get changed, too, I’ll meet you in ten.” Lance kisses him again and then rushes off. Keith waits until he’s disappeared into their bedroom to cover his face in his hands and scream silently.

Fuck! He just wants his Lance back. So badly. He wants to be woken up at strange hours of the night to hear about how trees communicate. He wants to get spam-texted as he’s trying to work, phone practically buzzing out of his pocket. He wants to hear about marketing strategies when they’re grocery shopping. He wants Lance to get distracted mid-sex by reading the back of the condom box, and then remarking with vague interest that they use the same dye in some cereals.

At the very least, he wants to know why Lance is acting so strange.

“So,” Lance says, once they’ve both settled down at the table and started to eat. “How come you’re home early?”

“Boss sent me home, I was distracted. I’m not mad, honestly. It’s been a while since I’ve done something special for you, which is a travesty.”

Lance smiles. “Dork. I appreciate it, though. Very sweet of you.” He shifts in his seat, tucking his legs up under him and leaning his head on his chin to look at Keith properly. “How come you were distracted?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Thinkin’ about this hot bod all day?”

Keith huffs a laugh. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Tell me! I’m curious now. I have to know or I’ll die.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Mhm. That’s not even the half of it, and you know it. If you don’t tell me right now I’ll just start listing the names of royals throughout European history and how freaky it is that most of them are directly related.”

Lance is teasing. His tone is light and playful; he’s obviously trying to goad Keith into playing along and groaning theatrically. A few weeks ago, Keith might have given in easily, and started ribbing him about why on Earth he has the names memorized in the first place.

But all Keith can think about is just how badly he would love to hear that.

“Promise?”

Keith’s voice comes out embarrassingly sincere. Soft and hopeful and dead-serious.

Lance’s hand stills, mid pasta-swirl.

“You…want me to? List names of inbred royals?”

Keith swallows. It’s as good of a segue as any, he supposes.

“Yeah.”

“…Why?”

“Because I — I miss your voice, I guess.”

“Keith, I talk all the time,” Lance says, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He snorts to himself. “One might even say it’s my defining quality.”

“You haven’t been. Not recently. You used to talk all the time, but now — I dunno. The house is quiet. I miss you talking about random things. I miss hearing about your day and the million creatures you met and the people you saw on the bus home and the weirdly-shaped stone you tripped over on the sidewalk. I miss you bazillion lunch-break texts. I miss your running commentary when we watch a movie, even though you miss important dialogue and have to rewind to hear it again. I dunno. I just miss you.”

Keith keeps his eyes downcast on his plate as he speaks, and keeps it there after he finishes. He’s finished his food, already, but he can’t bring himself to look at Lance’s face.

“Keith?”

There’s a strange quality to Lance’s voice, a sort of — bewildered breathlessness. Keith risks a glance, finding his boyfriend staring at him with a dropped jaw and wide brown eyes.

“You really — you miss my motormouth?”

Keith shrugs. “I fell in love with your motormouth. Of course I miss it.”

That makes Lance’s cheeks heat, and he glances down at his plate like they’re teenagers again and Keith told him he was cute for the first time.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Keith’s not sure what else to say. He doesn’t know how to express that there’s nothing that Lance does that he dislikes, not truly. Sure, it’s annoying when Lance leaves a million half-full cups of water around the apartment, and Keith is regularly tripping over the shoes that he never puts away for some reason, but there’s nothing — every part of him is precious to Keith. Everything he does and everything he is, Keith knows he can’t live without.

“I know you love me,” Lance whispers. He looks pointedly away from Keith, pushing a couple wayward noodles around on his plate. “I’ve never — I’ve never needed to doubt that.”

Keith swallows. “Good.”

“I — yeah. You show me all the time. And, I mean, look at today! You brought me flowers home just because. You do things like that for me regularly; I never forget that you care about me. But —”

One word. Three measly letters. But it’s enough to feel like a stone is dropping on Keith’s chest.

“— sometimes I feel like I’m too much? Like, I’m kind of intense. I know that. And I can’t always tell when I’m being weird or annoying. And you’d never — you’d never string me along, I know that. If you stopped loving me you’d tell me.”

“I would never stop loving you.” Keith can’t say the words fast enough. He wants to print them out and — tattoo them on his forehead. Melt them into gold and press them into Lance’s hands. Smash them to dust and sprinkle them in the air. Whatever — whatever it takes to prove to Lance that they’re true.

Lance bites his lip. His eyes are wet. “I — I don’t want us to —”

Keith doesn’t wait for the tears to fall. He stands and hurries the two feet over to Lance’s chair, carefully pulling him up and wrapping tight arms around his waist. Lance falls into him willingly, resting his forehead on Keith’s shoulder and leaning into him.

“Three of my coworkers think I’m annoying,” he whispers, long after the food’s gone cold and the light from the window has begun to dim. After Keith’s arms have gone a little numb and a wet spot has grown where Lance’s face is pressed into his shirt. “I just thought — I thought we were friends, but I heard them talking about how exhausting I am to be around. I don’t want — I don’t want you to get tired of me, too.”

Keith closes his eyes as he exhales in a shudder, firmly reminding himself that unfortunately, being a two-faced asshole is not illegal, and Keith has no defense for hunting those shitheads down and murdering them a little.

“They are not worth the ground you walk on,” Keith whispers, pressing a firm kiss to Lance’s hair. “You have more value in your toenail clippings than they do in their entire bodies.”

Lance giggles wetly. “Gross.”

”I mean it,” Keith says, smiling. “I love you, Lance. All of you. I never get tired of listening to you talk. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

———

It takes a while. Those asshole coworkers did a number on Lance’s self-esteem, because they’re horrible, and they deserve every horrible thing that happens to them. Honestly, Keith kind of hopes their cars break down and they have to spend ridiculous amounts of money getting them fixed by idiots, because Keith has quietly blacklisted them to every good mechanic in town. (Not that Lance knows. Lance is too nice to ask for something like that. Keith, however, is a bitch, and has no problem doing shady things to appease his own sense of justice.)

Eventually, though, the apartment stops being so silent. It starts with a shark documentary that takes them three hours to watch because Lance keeps pausing it to point out specific behaviours to Keith. And then they get kicked out of a casino they go to for shits and giggles, because Lance can’t contain himself and points out how the house is strategically winning all the card games they’re calling ‘luck-based’. And then grocery store trips start taking too long again, and Lance gets distracted mid-shower comparing the ingredients of shampoo and conditioner, and then they start a small fire in the apartment because he was explaining how broccoli evolved from mustard seed and burnt a whole pan of stir-fry to a crisp.

One day, seemingly out of the blue, Shiro sends him a picture of him and Lance, fifteen years old, at the shitty town Applebee’s.

I was looking at old pictures, the text reads. And you were right. It is strange that Lance was so quiet. I can’t imagine how that would feel. I’m glad you two worked things out.

Keith looks over at Lance, who’s singing a the periodic table song to himself as he washes the dishes for Keith to dry, and smiles.

He’s glad they worked it out, too.

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peaches-creek · 5 months

Text

“What if they don’t like me.” You say.

“They have begged me for months for a day like this, do not worry my love.”

“So, what if they finally meet me and they-“

“They will love you, just as I do.” He interrupts.

As you walk up the stone walkway leading into Konig’s childhood home, you can’t help but feel insecure. You have been dating for a little over a year, and have a small apartment off base together. You haven’t met them yet due to busy work schedules. Though you did feel as though you were putting it off, you couldn’t help but felt as time passed that they must resent you, keeping their son away from them for so long. You walk up to the door and Konig gives three loud knocks to the white-painted wooden door.

Now you weren’t sure what you were expecting, but with the way Konig explained his mother, you would’ve thought she was a tiny old lady. He had said his parents were a bit older, having him in their late thirties, making them around 65-70 years old. He mentioned two siblings, a brother who lives in the states, and a younger sister who lives at home. His father and mother owned a bakery in town, right near a church. He worked there when he was a teenager.

Anyways, as the door opens, you have to look up to greet her. She had to be about 6’2, with grayish blonde hair, and just the right amount of wrinkles that tell you she has lived a happy life.

“Hallo! You must be the girl I hear so much about. Come in, come in, we have so much to show you.” She greets, guiding you inside, she seems like one of the nicest women you have ever met, she looks young for her age.

The house is beautiful, everything looks handcrafted. Then you see his father and realize Konig gets his height from his mother, his father couldn’t be only taller than 5’8

“How do you like your tea?” He asks.

“Milk and sugar please.”

For the next hour, you will see countless albums of baby Konig, kid Konig, and even awkward phase Konig. All so adorable and dorky. His mother is nothing but kind, asking you questions about yourself and seeming genuinely interested. His father is more quiet, but he has this kind smile that just rests on his face, you can see it as he catches up with his son. It was a wonderful afternoon.

“So you two live together?” His mother asks. Konig and his father were outside, talking about their garden.

“Just a small apartment off base, not too far from here actually.” You say.

“That’s nice, it seems very serious between you two.”

“Well it is to me, your son means the world to me.”

“That’s a very refreshing thing to say to a mother you know,” she starts, “I was always so worried about him, He is very hard on himself, I was even more worried when he joined the military.”

“He is very good at his job I hope you know, I worry as well but he is very diligent and precise.” You soothe

The front door jingles as if a key were being used. In walks in a woman, about the same size as your boyfriend. About 6’9, same red hair, and same sweet smile.

“Hello.” You greet.

“Ah, it’s very nice to meet you.” She says giving your hand a firm shake. She sits down at the table right across from you.

“Yes, I agree.” You say.

“So how did you to meet?”

“We met through work, I’m a medic.”

“Yes, I met her when she had to give me a few stitches,” Konig interrupts, walking back inside, “She was very gentle compared to the rest of the medics that work there.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” You say.

“I disagree, anyways she didn’t actually talk to me until we were on a job, She had to reset my knee, again very gentle.”

“As gentle as a person can be while pushing a bone back into its place.”

“You seem very accident prone, my son.” His father adds.

“Yes, he is, I think he does it on purpose.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Konig says.

“When did you get the courage to ask her out.” His sister asks.

“She had to ask, I was very nervous and backed down many times. She asked if I liked tea, to which I said yes, and then she asked if we could go get some the following morning, I said yes.”

“Very romantic.” His mother gushes.

The afternoon turns to evening and it’s time to go back to your apartment.

“It was very nice to meet you all, I don’t know why I was so nervous, you guys are so lovely.”

“Come back anytime, I can teach you how to bake strudel.” His mother offers.

“I would really like that.”

You exchange goodbyes and get into Konig’s truck.

“Wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He points out.

“No, it was awesome Your family is so kind, I see where you get it from.”

He grins, and continues driving.

What you didn’t know, was that his mother slipped his grandmothers ring in his hand before you guys left.

#cod x reader #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig headcanons #konig x reader #konig x y/n #konig x you #konig fluff #cod #konig mw2 #konig x gender neutral reader #konig x oc #cod headcanons #cod imagine

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vettelsdarling · 9 months

Note

Darling, thank you for the AMAZING writing for my last request. <3 I am here with…HAMILTON! Here’s the prompt: 5+1: 5 times Lewis calls Y/N by a pet name and one time Y/N finds one for Lewis. I definitely think Lewis would shower his words of endearment and I am imagining a shy, blushing Y/N? Perhaps Y/N wants to find the perfect word/nickname to call her special person. Let your creativity run wild! I leave the rest up to you because I love your writings (obviously). Have fun!

𝐏𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

Lissie note… I am so glad you like my stuff<3 Thank you for this request!!! I’ve never really written anything like it before, but it’s an interesting prompt and I’m willing to give it a try!

Things to note

This is set in the 2020 season

Lewis and reader have been dating for a year and a half before that

Reader is an accountant

Tiffany appreciation

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Tiniest bit of angst. Blink and you might miss it

Word Count: 4.2k+

Playlist recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @allwaysalleyway

You were walking home from your 9 to 5 job the day you met him. He’d been exploring the city he was to race in that coming weekend. With your face buried in your phone, aggressively replying to unanswered emails— you accidentally sealed your fate with the asphalt, tripping and falling onto the road. Luckily, it wasn’t an active one. He’d seen you scramble to scrape all your things together and rushed over to help you. Never had you seen such generosity from anyone before. You were used to people minding their own business if you fell or if you dropped something.

“You didn’t have to,” you’d said. He had a number of things in his arms that had spilled out of your bag… including feminine products. He hadn’t seemed to care though. He’d happily helped you load your things back to where they’d belonged.

“Of course I did.” You had managed to collect yourself before falling into conversation with him.

“You’re not from here, are you? I know most people in this town…” He was a new face. Not somebody who you’d seen before.

“Guilty as charged. I’m here for work.”

“What do you do?” It was forward and he had been taken aback but ultimately came up with something to string you along to.

“I’m an engineer… of sorts. You?” ‘Engineer’ made sense to you, as his style was very out there and the designer watches were more than your yearly salary.

“I’m just an accountant.” In stark contrast to him, you had on a white blouse and a grayscale checkered pencil skirt. Your ordinary uniform. Freedom was something you had to give up when you came in for work.

“I see… you work near here?” He had just been following you, not really paying any attention to where your feet had been taking you.

“Yeah, I do. About five minutes from here. Is your workplace near here or are you working from your house or hotel?” Your intention hadn’t been to pry, but the genuine curiosity drove you to ask him anyway.

“I guess it’s near? I can’t really say… if I’m being honest.” That was obviously not the best answer. He had every opportunity to tell you a white lie, but he slipped up somehow. Did it even matter though? He wasn’t going to see you again… was he?

Days turned into weeks. He had given you his number after getting you home safely that day. You hadn’t been in contact with him until he finally sent you a simple text: “Hey, it’s Lewis.” It had sent you spiralling. You hadn’t been sure whether to pursue the connection or let it slip. For better or worse though, you had replied with a short quip. Not intricate enough to suggest something, but not doing a full swing in the other direction either.

It was, however, enough to spark something between the two of you. A blossoming bud that turned into a bountiful garden. That was you and Lewis Hamilton.

1. Trophy wife

The two of you had been dating for a few years. He eventually cracked, and told you about his actual job on the second date. Though his true identity was a Google search away, it came as a shock to you. Never had you ever believed him to be famous. He was so down-to-earth and humble.

Over the course of your years of dating, he had tried to make you quit your job. Mostly because he wanted to support you, but also because he wanted to spend more time with you. Every waking moment he wanted to spend in your presence. You refused and turned down every offer he gave you. Dating a celebrity was already more than enough for you to handle. You wanted normalcy in your life. Even if that came in the shape of hell sent bosses who cared very little about your well-being.

“You know I can cover you. If that won’t sell you, then Roscoe must. You could take care of him whilst I’m gone.” It was another day of his notorious begging for him to take care of you. It was a sweet sentiment, but even living with him was too much.

“I’m already taking care of him. Lewis, you can’t just make me a trophy wife. That’s not who I am. I want to work,” you said begrudgingly and seated yourself by the kitchen island.

“Trophy wife? Please. You will never be some sort of arm candy for me to show off. I love you. I just want you to take a rest, love.” Lewis decided to deploy a deadly weapon. The pet name. If there was one weakness you had— it was whenever he referred to you with a pet name. It made you all weak in the knees and your feet would feel like jelly. Forget about cloud nine, you were swimming in warmth.

“That’s not fair, Lew. You can’t just do that to me.” You scrunched your nose at him and checked your phone for incoming notifications from your workplace text chain. Or so you thought it looked like. In reality, you were hiding your face from him. It was redder than the apple in the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Hmm, you know, I’m not so sure what you mean by that, my love.” Oh, how you wished he would stop. It was hard to resist giving in. Especially when he paired it with such a precious smile. Who’d be able to peel their eyes from that?!

“Look, we aren’t talking about this right now. I’ll be on my way now,” you scoffed and left, leaving your lover with the last laugh. Once again, you let him have his victory.

2. Flatscreen

A few months passed before he tried his luck again. With a new offer. Lewis tried to reason with you, but just like always— you simply would not have it.

“No. Never in a million years,” you snapped and closed the fridge a little too aggressively, remembering to mutter a quiet “sorry”. The Brit even got up early that morning to make you breakfast in bed— just for good measure. If you were in a great mood, surely you’d be more agreeable. Yet… he was utterly wrong. You were headstrong and did not agree one bit.

“You need it, sweets.” Again with the pet names. That was the final nail in the coffin for his begging.

“You can’t just expect me to splurge on a flatscreen simply to watch you race on more pixels! I can watch you perfectly fine on our current TV, thank you very much.” You poured him a glass of orange juice and scooped some protein powder in it as well. He drank it all in one go.

“Splurge? You won’t need to. I’ll buy it for you, okay?” He crossed his arms confidently and made sure to smirk like he always did whenever he tried to prove something.

“Okay? What do you mean ‘okay’?! You will not buy me a brand new flatscreen, Lewis.” Your face was flushed and your frustration was only piling up.

“You can’t tempt me with those things you call me. That won’t work.” Who were you kidding? You lived for his little pet names and those brief moments he’d hold you in his arms while the two of you stared into the early morning view.

“Whatever you say, sugar.” Oh, how you wish you threw the juice in his face instead of offering it to him.

3. Restaurant

You were standing next to Tiffany in the Mercedes garage. Both of you were wearing large headphones whilst watching the screens showing your boyfriends. It was hard not to make noise whenever Lewis overtook someone, but you were just able to contain yourself.

Tiffany was surprisingly calm and collected, but wasn’t afraid to groan and sigh if Valterri slipped up. You weren’t the type to show much of anything unless it regarded Lewis. It was something that you’d grown up with. A habit of sorts.

“How long have you been with Lewis by now?” Tiffany asked with a slight tug of her lip.

“A few years now… I don’t think we’ll ever get tired of each other.” You said that as if he didn’t bug you with his endless blabbering about wanting to spoil you and give you every black card he owned.

“That is just too sweet! I can only wish that Valterri and I will last as long. I certainly love him.” In a way, you envied her position. She was a professional athlete, much like her partner, whilst you were stuck counting numbers behind a desk all day. She was gorgeous too… it was as if a strike of adoration hit you whenever she passed you in the paddock.

“Yeah… Lewis is something else.” You watched him speed past the camera on the screen. A smile spread across your face, knowing he was doing his best.

Lewis managed to secure a pole position, giving you a kiss as he saw you in the crowd with all of the Mercedes crew. Your heart swelled at the amount of attention he gave you rather than his engineers. Especially knowing he was dead serious about his career and his coworkers.

The podium celebration was magnificent. He sprayed the champagne as if he’d won the lottery. Butterflies formed in your stomach at his pure glee. He was adorable.

There was an after-party, but Lewis had other plans in mind. He wanted to take you out for the night. Even though you didn’t mind partying, there was something in him that held him back from letting you do so. It felt morally wrong of him to drag you along to his work retreats.

“You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” Your face was pressed up against the car window. His hand was on your thigh, gently caressing it. You could almost feel yourself dozing off.

“You’ll see when we get there, honey.” That one was fairly new. It felt more domestic too. That was probably why your cheeks were hotter than an iron.

“You’re crazy,” you said with a chuckle.

“Crazy about you.”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll admit that was pretty lame.”

“Yeah, it was.” The two of you had a small laugh about it before turning some music on. The two of you had made a shared playlist. One that consisted mainly of your favourites. Since you had far too many, they outnumbered your boyfriend’s.

The ride was long, but the destination made it worth it. He’d driven you to a cliffside restaurant. It was quaint and cosy and had balcony seats. You could see the ocean and its waves cascading onto each other in a synchronized manner. It was beautiful. Lewis was a romantic. Not exactly what someone would expect at first glance, but he truly cared deeply for you and your needs. It was almost impossible to say no to him.

“Lewis… Thank you for this.”

“No, honey, thank you. I won today because you were here with me. It’s the first race you’ve come to in a while now.” The man was perfect.

“Yeah, and I’m sorry I haven’t been able to attend that many. My job won’t allow me and—”

“Hey- no- none of that. Stop making yourself the guilty party here. You’re doing what you love and you should not be worrying about me. I see you whenever I’m home and that’s enough for me.” Your fingers interlocked with his as he leaned in to peck your lips. The support he gave you couldn’t amount to anything you’d ever received from anyone. Even your own family.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.”

4. Bath

You were dead. Completely drained from your job. It felt like your body was that of a gigantic slug. You couldn’t move a single limb. Your brain had already checked out, so you were pretty much stuck. Being too tired to move, you decided to take a rest on the couch that you’d collapsed onto upon entering your shared home.

Your boss was a nightmare. He overworked everyone to the bone, and if you happened to pass into overtime, he refused to pay you for your extra hours. Was it fair? No. Was there anything you could do about it? Also no. You had to endure him for as long as possible. At least until you could find yourself a different company to work at. Quitting had been on your mind for some time, but with Lewis travelling all the time— you felt that you couldn’t just stay home all day. You still wanted to occupy yourself with a job.

The faint sound of Roscoe’s pattering paws could be heard inching closer. You didn’t mind looking after him. He was the sweetest and didn’t require much of you.

“I’ll take you out in 5,” you mumbled somewhat incoherently to the dog. He had politely plopped himself in front of the couch, staring at you with those adorable eyes. Your hand reached out to scratch him, as it would give you more time to stall and relax.

The more you contemplated whether or not to quit, the more you started leaning towards a self-destructive mindset. You wanted to work. You had to. It didn’t feel right for you to leech off of your boyfriend. That was simply not an option for you.

“I’m home!” You heard a strong voice boom throughout the house. It was Lewis, who had been out for most of the day. He was usually stuck in a billion meetings and was often hard to reach. You didn’t care about that though. You were just proud of him for working so hard. It made you feel guilty for not working nearly as hard as him.

“Hey, there you are. You don’t look well, are you ill?” He crouched down next to Roscoe to meet your face. Your eyes were closed due to the weight of your eyelids, but you lightly shook your head.

“I’m just really tired. Sorry, I didn’t take Roscoe out for his evening walk… I’m a bad dog mum.” Lewis chuckled lightly at the term you used to describe yourself. ‘Dog mum’.

“No need to worry about that. Your well-being comes first. How about I draw you a bath? I’ll take Roscoe out whilst you soak up some relaxing aromas.” If there was a ‘Boyfriend of the Year’ award, surely Lewis would win. He cared about the little things. The things you hadn’t even thought about.

“Thanks, Lew… you’re too good to me.”

“Nonsense. You deserve to be treated like royalty.” He stroked your cheek, causing your lips to tug upwards.

“I’ve been thinking about quitting.” You announced it out of the blue, but Lewis seemed unphased. Your eyes finally had some strength to stay open, so you looked straight into his. A mix of elation and calmness. That was your Lewis.

“That’s great. You shouldn’t work with a boss who doesn’t appreciate your efforts. Trust me, I would know. I’m lucky to have Toto, but I can’t even imagine working with some of the other team principals.” You knew about Williams’ fall from grace after the daughter of the former team principal stepped in.

“I don’t know though… I don’t want to stay home all day long and do nothing. I have to work, you know?” You had to face the music. There was no way you could quit and still be able to work. Accounting wasn’t special in Monaco. You were likely not someone a lot of companies were looking for.

“It doesn’t matter to me. I can take care of you, angel.”He really deployed your kryptonite. The name made your heart flutter as if the two of you were back in your honeymoon phase. It wasn’t fair.

“That’s a dirty trick, Lew. I’m not going to quit until I find a job I can replace my current one with. I’m sorry. It may not matter to you, but it matters to me.” Lewis got up and stretched before walking towards one of the many bathrooms,

“I’ll prepare a bath for you.”

5. New job

It had been a few months since you last brought up your work situation to Lewis. You had decided to continue until you’d eventually short-circuit. All that mattered was that you were a working girlfriend instead of a stay-at-home one. You didn’t have anything against that lifestyle in particular. It just wasn’t for you.

This day was special. You were cooking a vegan curry when Lewis came out of the shower to help you chop vegetables. It was a celebratory dish, as you had just been fired. Apparently, you had been doing ‘the bare minimum’ and that simply wasn’t good enough. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been devastating to be fired, but you were elated. It sure as hell was better than quitting.

“What’s got you in such a giddy mood?” Lewis came up behind you and hugged your waist. Your body leaned into his and it was as if you were floating on clouds. Fluffy clouds of love.

“I was fired.” He pulled away from you and got the cutting board out.

“This is great news! We should eat out tomorrow to celebrate.” He started chopping up some potatoes to dump in the pot.

“I was thinking this could be a celebration. Just you, me, and Roscoe. We could throw on a good movie and all.” Lewis didn’t oppose that idea. He smiled and nodded, continuing his feat with the veggies.

Then it hit you. You’d be jobless. You hadn’t found a job to replace the old one with. A pang of guilt hit you like a freight train. You somehow managed to overlook the fact all day. Your breathing became hard and heavy. You had to take a break.

“Woah woah woah, what’s wrong?” You saw Lewis with the kitchen knife and apron. His image was getting blurry from tears you simply couldn’t hold back.

“I thought we were celebrating? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He put down the knife, undid his apron, and pulled you out of the kitchen. Luckily nothing was boiling.

“I just… I’m jobless,” you sniffled through your tears. The salty liquid coated your lips, and you could taste the despair. You slowly sank down onto the floor with him following suit.

“Well, that was the point,” said Lewis. You found it oddly comforting, but guilt still clung to every part of you. Like poison, you didn’t have the antidote for.

“I don’t want to burden you like that.” You were able to speak clearer after Lewis rubbed your back for support.

“You could never be a burden to me, okay? You are the reason I’m still standing here today with win after win. You motivate me to keep being strong and keep aiming for higher heights. How could you ever be a burden to me?” His words were like a warm hug. Your tensed muscles relaxed a little bit.

“I don’t know… I’ve never not worked before. I don’t exactly come from wealth,” you sighed. As much as it was about burdening your boyfriend— it was about your own values. Coming from what most would consider ‘middle class’, you always had to work harder than your peers. Monaco didn’t have time to wait around for you, so you always tried so desperately to catch up. It felt embarrassing. Your home country was just as forward and busy. There was never time for you. Working hard was a lifestyle that you had to pull off.

“Do you think I came from wealth? I didn’t. I worked my ass off to get here, and now that I have the means to spoil you. I want you to feel that you can take a rest, okay?” His reasoning was flawed to you. There was something about it that just couldn’t sway you.

“Lewis, I can’t be your trophy wife. I can’t.” You shook your head and swallowed hard.

“You won’t be. Think of this as your new job. You’ll have the responsibility to take care of Roscoe and keep the house clean and habitable. Is that not considered work?” There was no other offer on the table and there was no other option. The only way for you was that.

“Basically a housewife.”

“Darling, please.” Your stomach did cartwheels and the butterflies tumbled around in there.

“It’s okay. I’ll just have to make do,” you sighed and rested your face in your hands.

“Hey, at least you’ll be able to come to more of my races— if not all.” Wow, what a consolation… but he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“You know what? I have to make a call. I’ll be right back.” Lewis got up and made his way to the guest room for privacy. Meanwhile, you stared into the white ceiling. You felt so tiny. As if you were just a small speck of dust. An inconvenience. Muffled sounds were coming from the room Lewis had gone into. You could tell that it was about his job. Something that you already missed. Your boss was terrible, but at least you had something to do every day. At least he let you have 10-minute lunch breaks. Which, in retrospect, was far from enough time.

It took a while, but Lewis finally came back. His face looked as if he couldn’t contain himself. He seemed excited?

“Guess what.” He crouched down to meet your eyes.

“What?”

“You have a job.” He smiled and reached for your hand, helping you stand by supporting your waist.

“No need to rub in my new position as a housewife. I get it, Lew.”

“No. I pulled a few strings, and you’re going to be in the accounting department on my team.” Your eyes flew open in shock.

“What? Wait what?!”

“You get to work from home too, so it’s sort of like a compromise. You’ll be able to come to my races and you’ll be working like any other person. Your pay is higher than your last job too.” It was all too much, but you couldn’t turn it down after he’d just done something so grand for you. It’d be rude.

“Lewis, I genuinely don’t even know what to say. I mean, this is just amazing.” Your tears were all dried up on your face, and your eyes were gorgeous from them.

“You didn’t have to do this for me, you know?”

“I’ve told you so many times now; that I would do anything for you, darling.” Lewis was truly out of this world. His generosity and humbleness were his character. That was him. That was all yours.

+1. Handsome

The time had come for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix to commence. Lewis was in the running position to bring home yet another championship. He had been dominating all season, so there wasn’t really a question of whether or not he’d win. That fate was sealed. It was just a matter of if he could snatch the last win of the season. You certainly didn’t doubt his skills paired with his car. He was basically unstoppable.

“You did great in the qualifying sessions, I’m sure you’ll do great now. You’re starting from pole position. You’ve got this in the bag, I’d say so.” You smiled as he got into his race suit.

“I have no doubts. I’ve got my lucky charm with me.” He looked at you with a silly smile plastered onto his face. Cute.

“I believe in you, handsome,” you cooed and winked at him before walking away, leaving him with the effects of having been called a pet name, when he’s usually the one to get the fun out of you. He felt his chest tighten and tingle. Perhaps the race would be in his favour after that one.

You were seated next to Tiffany again. The two of you were too focused on the race to have an actual conversation. You were completely immersed in your boyfriend, hoping that he’d not only win but also stay safe. You were convinced he wouldn’t do anything reckless though. That wasn’t like him.

He didn’t win, but at the very least he scored a podium finish. You were still proud of him. He was the 2020 world champion.

The crowd surge towards the podium stand nearly crushed you several times, but you were able to get in front of everyone else to receive a heartwarming kiss from your lover.

“You did so well out there, baby, I’m so proud!” His heart nearly stopped when you called him that. You pulled him in for a hug, before letting the engineers embrace him. The smile on his face was immaculate, and you couldn’t wait for the ceremony where he’d rightfully receive his trophy. You had been to the same ceremony a year prior, but something felt much more special about this year. Both you and Lewis had grown so much over the span of it, it didn’t feel real, but at the same time— you couldn’t remember how it felt before.

Safe to say, you were definitely going to stick around for a long time. Losing his lucky charm would be detrimental after all.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

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eyesxxyou · 7 months

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i need more gladiator miguel that was SO GOOD OMG

I gotcha cuz I've definitely got more ideas

💾 gladiator!Miguel x reader

❝ warnings ❞ sex, lots of sex, a little angst at the end

Gladiator!Miguel who you soon after hired to be a bodyguard for you to keep him close. He’s a good man, a strong one, and talented with a sword. You’d want no one else protecting you.

Gladiator!Miguel who is in attendance with you everywhere. In your bed chambers, in your bath house. So many opportunities with you alone, so many times he’s gotten to fuck you without any eyes nearby to catch the two of you in the act. You’re so good at tempting him, with sultry eyes and gently parted lips as you stand in the buttermilk waters of your bath and coax him closer.

You end up leaning against the edge of the bath with one leg over his shoulder and the other between his legs as he shoves his cock in and out of your pretty, tight hole. He claims it as his own, that unused entrance of yours as tight as a vice around him, and you let him because you want to be his so desperately.

“Fuck– Miguel! Please…right there.” You whimper as he pounds you in and leaves you trembling. You always get so hot looking at him, a big, hairy many like himself, testosterone so obviously pumping hard through his veins. You need him all the time.

Gladiator!Miguel who attempts to teach you how to wrestle upon your request. You do it in your palace garden where the grass and dirt would serve as a cushion for your many falls and defeats. And though you genuinely wanted to learn the art form of fighting, the two of you with your hands all over each other meant it wasn't long before you were face down in the flowers and Miguel was on top of you.

It was risky to do it in the garden where anyone could come through and see Miguel on top of you and your robes shoved up your waist. His hands pinned your wrists to the Earth and he fucked you with such vigor that anyone coming by would have mistaked it for an unwilling assault upon your body.

You had to keep quiet, even as he spread your ass so he could watch the way his fat cock disappeared inside you, even as he forced you to fuck yourself on him. “Take what you need, mi corazón.” He murmured in your ear, drunk off your soft body as his large hands grasped at your exposed flesh.

Gladiator!Miguel who needs his prince/princess to cum first always. You’re pampered, spoiled. You deserve to go first to ensure you’re properly satisfied by the end of it. It’s not like it’s a difficult task and the payoff is always so satisfying as he watches you make a mess of yourself, quivering with satisfaction beneath him as he fucks you into oblivion.

Gladiator!Miguel who genuinely teaches you how to swordfight. He thinks it’s a good skill to have. In the case that you are ever alone, you must be able to defend yourself. Besides you being next in line for the throne, you’re pretty, and there are many people in this world who’d like to take advantage of you.

Gladiator!Miguel who teaches you a whole plethora of things, how to fight, how to hunt, how to tie knots, etc. With each skill you’re taught, the more you feel yourself falling for him and him falling for you. In another world, the two of you could be together. In another world, a relationship like yours would be okay but you were expected to marry nobility and he was a simple gladiator.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #gladiator!au #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x gn!reader #spiderman 2099

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onyourowndaisymae · 10 months

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don't mind me... just thinking about the dateables slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

diavolo // barbatos (you are here) // simeon // solomon -- x gn!reader, NSFW below the cut

barbatos, who will always be there for lord diavolo. when the idea of an exchange program first popped in the prince's head, barbatos was the backboard in which diavolo bounced his ideas off of. humans and angels in the devildom? how would we keep them safe? what would their curriculum look like? the program slowly molds into shape with each of these conversations. he watches as the idea grows to a proposal, then a plan, and finally, a real project to work towards. the prince is always chipper when discussing the program. a few nobles doubt that the plan will come to fruition, but barbatos has long since learned that doubting the prince will only motivate him more. when the day of the exchange program begins, barbatos watches with a small, almost entirely smile as the future king of the devildom welcomes the new students to his academy.

barbatos, who lives to please. it's his purpose, his sole duty in the devildom day in and day out. when lord diavolo orders him to make sure you feel welcome, he does the job with flourish. your favorite desserts are always at tea when you visit. he's sure to answer any questions or concerns you have promptly as you tour the castle. he even loosens the leash on the young master just a little as the two of you grow closer, giving him some grace to spend time with you over staying cooped up in his office-- so long as you continue to enjoy yourself. maybe somewhere along the way affection blurs into duty, obligation fading into genuine interest. he's there to lend a listening ear, to be a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold should you so desire. barbatos never oversteps his bounds, for that would be wholly unprofessional. but he never speaks up when you linger in the kitchen, shuffling in your spot as you babble on about whatever comes to mind. he never rushes you out after a long day at the castle visiting the young master, even when the skies are dark and lucifer is impatient to know your estimated arrival time back at the house of lamentation. it's the little things that let you know he cares... maybe even a little more than he believes he should.

barbatos, who doesn't mind your company-- even if you're a little distracting. your laughter echoes through the garden, giddy chirps quickly becoming loud, joyous barks of noise as little d's bound around your feet. their voices overlap, all too excited to be avoiding their gardening duty, as they bombard you with jokes and stories. barbatos should send them on their way. but you look so happy. you once said that they reminded you of dogs from the human realm with the way they darted around and got into trouble. the metaphor wasn't perfect, considering they were still conniving little demons, but they'd suffice. anything to ease your homesickness, after all. he doesn't even realize the tree trimmers in his own hands have stalled until you cry out-- how long had he been watching you? in a moment of darting demons and misplaced footsteps, you tumble to the ground, tripped by one of the little d's. he knows it's an accident, but his tone is venomous as he tells the demons to get away from you. they scatter like roaches. he's quick to make his way to your side, and you laugh, brushing off his concerns as he helps you up. but look. your palm is red and irritated from the impact. it's not enough of a scrape to draw blood, but you still got hurt. barbatos bows deeply to apologize for allowing them to take things too far-- he should have been watching better. he'll find a fitting punishment for them, although he doesn't share that with you. your hands wave in panic as you assure him no, it's okay, don't apologize! he inspects the injury again, gloved fingers gliding against the wound, watching your face from the corner of his eye to see if he's causing you any discomfort. you appear to be fine. barbatos does the courteous thing-- surely, that's the only motivator for his actions, nothing else-- and presses a soft kiss to the wound as a final, silent apology. your eyes are wide when he meets them again, lips curling nervously into an uncertain smile. if he didn't know any better, he'd say you look like you're already plotting your next injury. maybe that's just his imagination.

barbatos, who has grown. who has lived a long, long life, and will continue to live far into the future, where the human mind can no longer perceive time. he was around long before you were a fruit on your family tree-- hell, he was probably born before it was even planted. he's seen civilizations rise and fall. greed has swallowed whole kingdoms under his silent watch, castles crumbling under the weight of their own hubris while he didn't say a word. humans are so flawed, so sinful. he's never cared much for their weight in his life. he used to think the realms were better off separate-- until he met the young master, of course-- but now he knows where he was wrong. your clumsy fingers fumble with the ingredients, their foreign colors and textures tripping you up as you follow the recipe he wrote out for you. he has to stop himself from micromanaging you. barbatos watches you from the corner of his eyes as he kneads out the pastry dough in his hands. the cultural exchange must be hard for you, even after all these months you've been immersed in demon culture. he doesn't think about it, didn't think about it, until one of the brothers brought it up in passing. how strange. you've adapted quite well to everything. his mind wanders as he watches you look between measuring cups. how long as it been? how long have these sorts of feelings been dormant in him, this level of passion for another living creature? you captivate him like no other. when he was a younger demon, he spent years wandering, indulging every hedonistic desire he had. there were countless lovers left in his dust, tangled bedsheets and broken hearts trailing back to the dawn of time. it'd been a long time since he bothered to look at anyone romantically, even longer since someone stirred these feelings up on their own. yet here you were. special, truly. a grin split your face, and barbatos watched as you did a little dance to celebrate your successful attempt at completing this portion the recipe. praise flowed like warm honey from his lips. his words made your grin wider, if at all possible. you crossed the counter to press a giddy little kiss against his cheek, and he stilled for a long moment. how did a little kiss affect him so? this, he might never realize. he broke the spell with a small chuckle and returned the favor-- properly, this time, pressing his lips against yours for a moment before refocusing your attention on the desserts you had yet to finish. he'd met a lot of humans in his lifetime, and yet there was something about you none of the rest of them had. but what? he'd gladly spend as long as he needed to in pursuit of that answer.

barbatos, who will never get tired of a quiet morning. they're rare in his profession-- usually he's up early, silently pattering about as he begins preparing to wake the rest of the castle. but today that is not the case. today he's curled around you like vines on ruins, body intertwined with yours until he hardly knows where he ends and you begin. the crypt he calls a room is dark at all hours of the day, only illuminated by candles and other such lights when someone walks in. but you've got a special lamp from the human world that brightens your room in tune with the time of day, like the sun in the human realm does naturally. the warm light caresses the curve of your cheeks, the curl of your lips, the fluttering of your eyelids as you begin to stir. there's a part of him that wants you to stay asleep. he wants to observe your drowsy form a little longer, to burn the shape of you into his brain so he'll never know another moment without your face. but your eyes open, and you smile-- maybe having you wake up isn't such a bad thing. you rasp a good morning. he returns the favor. and when you kiss him good morning, he again follows suit. it's lazily, all warm lips and breathy chuckles as your hands come to his cheeks. his arm was already wrapped around your side, and barbatos takes the opportunity to rub circles into your back. neither of you pull away, and lazy kisses grow more heated when left to progress. his lips trail across your skin, breath tickling your collarbone, your sternum, your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your sleep shorts. he spares you a quick glance to see you nod, easing yourself out of your lower garments with his assistance. his tongue laps softly at your sex, eliciting a content sigh from you. your thighs wrap carefully around his head, and his arms link around them to hold you close. sleep clings to your skin like his touch. it's all light, all careful, his lips wrapping around your sex and sucking just enough to make you whine. it's a gentle build up of pleasure inside you. his fingers replace his lips somewhere along the way, stroking you as his tongue moves instead to your hole. his tongue pushes shallowly inside you, alternating between lapping and thrusting in a way that leaves you squirming around his head. trembling fingers grip his hair when you eventually climax. there's love in his eyes and in his smile as he licks his mess clean, his spit mixing with yours juices around his mouth and between your thighs. he only moves when you murmur something about wanting him inside you-- that catches his attention, and he's quick to finish cleanup before slipping out of his own clothes. he needs nothing more than a simple kiss to be prepped for you after such a wonderful show. your pleasure is his pleasure. his lips meet yours, and he lines himself up carefully before pushing into your hole with a few languid, easy thrusts. a sigh catches between your joined lips-- is it his, or yours?-- and he waits a moment before moving inside of you. you exist in many timelines, many worlds, all living different lives with different people. but he is eternally grateful he lives in this one. he couldn't imagine every being content after having you like this, ever craving someone else like he does you. a lifetime without you is simply not worth living in-- that, barbatos is sure of.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable // @deepseafragments // @niinian

#my apologies for dropping this a day late i wanted to do him justice #this is not as smutty as some of the others either but i genuinely don't picture him to have a real roster like the others #also i'm just now looking and this is Long As Hell #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me barbatos #obey me x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me smut

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