#have had half the mind to ask me if i could stop making those jokes!!!!!!!!!
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the prophecy
➝ jenson didn't want money, just someone who wanted his company. is that too much to ask for?
➝ word count: 4k
➝ warnings: mentions of death, alcohol, and a particular bad time for jenson
➝ author's note: well, the last two weeks have been horrible, i completely doubted my ability as a writer and my health decided to abandon me in every way. i still don't feel very good and i really think i should give up everything, but ally won't let me, so here we have another one-shot that i had shelved out of frustration with myself. enjoy!
Driving down that street was bittersweet.
The night was beautiful. The sky was spectacularly clear and the silver light of the moon illuminated the gentle waves of the Mediterranean. The pleasant breeze disguised the heat that had been on the French Riviera all day.
However, you weren't looking at the goosebumps in your arms or the stars twinkling in the sky. Your eyes were fixed on the large butter-colored house that stood discreetly among the shady trees just to his left.
As you stopped the MINI you had rented at Nice airport, you allowed yourself to roll down the window and contemplate those familiar walls.
It felt like an eternity since you had last been there, walking up the stone steps, the gray mixed with red. You closed your eyes, trying not to pay attention to your stomach, which churned at the memory. However, it was something you couldn't help.
After all, that had been your last sight of John Button.
You clearly remembered the day you had met him. Wearing a white shirt and with red cheeks from the heat in Melbourne, he approached you and your boss, Richard, with a wide smile. After some typically English jokes about the intense sun, he invited the two of you to join him at the table where he was sitting with his daughter-in-law, Jessica, and son, Jenson.
It was with that moment in mind that you noticed something strange in the house.
With the swaying of the tree branches that covered the facade, you could see that the front of the residence was illuminated, as if there was a light on. In addition to being sure that no one was in the house, you were almost certain that you hadn't left any lights on the last time you were there.
“Someone broke in”, you thought, rummaging through your bag for your house keys.
After typing a message to Jenson, stating that you had seen something strange at John's house and that you would check out what was going on, you made your way to the main gate, finding it ajar.
— My God — you murmured, as you followed the path in silence. With wide eyes, you were trying to make out the sharp sound that mixed with the rustling of leaves and the waves of the sea when a particular loud noise made you jump.
Taking your phone from your pocket, you rolled your eyes when you read the name on the caller ID. “Bad timing”, you thought, as you dragged your finger across the screen and brought the device to your ear.
— Now I can't, Jenson, I'm here at John's house…
However, instead of a humorous comment or an ironic question, you heard a loud sob.
— Y/N — Jenson murmured, taking a sniff.
— Are you crying?
— I'm here, Y/N.
— Here? Jenson, where are you?
— Here — he stammered, before crying again, this time louder.
So loud that you realized what he was talking about.
Walking a few more meters, you saw the staircase that led to the front door of the house, as well as a man sitting on the steps, accompanied by a half-empty bottle of whiskey and his face wet with tears, leaning against the wall next to him.
— Jenson! — you exclaimed, hanging up your phone and running towards him. Climbing the steps two at a time, you approached the driver practically out of breath, your heart almost coming out of your mouth — Jenson, are you okay? What happened? What are you doing here?
He looked at you with a blank stare.
— Y/N…
— Jenson, tell me, what are you doing here?
— I want my father — the driver replied softly, the words dragging on his tongue. Holding his face, you noticed more tears falling from his eyes — Where is my father?
— Jense — you murmured, before pulling him towards you for a hug. With his head buried in the crook of your neck, he cried loudly, his gasps making his entire body shake and your eyes filling with tears. You allowed them to fall from your eyes as you blinked a little harder, tightening your arms around him.
— He wasn't supposed to come alone — he stammered against his shoulder, before looking up and sniffling — He couldn't, he shouldn't…
— I know, Jense, I know — you replied, running your hand over his face to dry the tears.
— He died alone, Y/N — Jenson murmured — He died without anyone by his side. My father died alone, without anyone…
You pressed your lips together, feeling more tears streaming down your face. It was ironic and particularly sad, considering how loved John was by everyone around him. Dying like that, in the open and completely alone, was something you didn't wish on anyone.
— I don't want to be alone — he continued, rubbing his nose — I don't want to be alone, I don't, I don't…
— You won't be alone — you said, trying to calm him down, as the driver reached for the bottle of whiskey, taking a large gulp before you could protest or stop him.
— I will, Y/N — he replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand — I will, I know I will...
— No, you won't — you said, as Jenson brought the bottle to your mouth, only for you to abruptly remove it from his hand — And you're going to stop with that whiskey now.
He tried to retrieve the bottle, but you tipped it over the steps, spilling the rest of the contents onto the stone.
— No — the driver protested, as the amber liquid ran down the steps.
— Yes — you returned — You can't keep drinking, Jense.
— I can…
— No, you can't and you won't — you said, your tone somewhat harsh, almost like a mother scolding a naughty child — I'm not going to watch you drink yourself into an alcoholic coma with my arms crossed. Now get up.
He looked at you with an expression that mixed confusion and sadness.
— Y/N — he stammered.
— Come on, Jense — you said, giving your hand to help him get up.
The task of taking the driver into the house was not simple. Far beyond the darkness of the rooms, courtesy of the curtains that covered the large windows that faced the sea, Jenson seemed determined not to cooperate with your efforts to take him to the main suite to take a shower.
After some struggle to drag him up the marble stairs to the second floor and tripping over a painting that was leaning against the wall as he slurred about how much his father liked that place, you managed to make it to the spacious bathroom. of the room that had once been John's. Asking Jenson to lean on the white stone sink, you allowed yourself a few seconds to breathe before continuing on your mission to save the driver from the worst hangover of his life.
— You can take off your clothes — you said, seriously.
— For what? — he asked, frowning.
— So you can take a shower. You reek of sweat and cheap whiskey.
Your observation made him take a step forward, losing his balance and placing both hands on your shoulders.
— It’s not cheap whiskey, it’s a very good brand…
— Which you probably bought for five euros in some dodgy liquor store in Monaco, right? — you asked, as you took your hands to the white shirt he was wearing and started to undo the buttons, revealing his chest.
— But it was a good whiskey, you could have tried it — Jenson murmured — But you threw it all away...
— It was either throw it away or let you keep drinking it until dawn.
— That was my plan.
Your hands stopped at the last button of his shirt, your lips pursed as you lifted your face to look at the driver. The seconds of silence that stretched inside the bathroom made your heart sink. After swallowing hard, you asked him to take off his shirt, which he did without saying a word.
Next, you moved on to his belt, unbuckling it and undoing the button on his pants.
— What are you doing?
— Taking off your pants.
— For what? — Jenson asked in a naive tone.
— So you can get in the shower — you replied, bending down slightly to slide his jeans down his legs, leaving him in just his underwear — Come in.
— And the underwear?
You felt your face heat up.
— I definitely don't need to see your dick today, Jenson. Now go to the shower.
Balancing himself with his hand on your shoulder, he carefully entered the bathtub, sitting on the edge. Watching you turn on the shower, he hissed as he felt the cold water splash onto his legs. However, that didn't stop you from placing your hand on the driver's tattooed shoulder to encourage him to get wet.
— No, Y/N — he grumbled — It's too cold.
— The cold water will help you…
— I don't want help.
— Come on, please — you said, bringing your face closer to his — You'll feel better after the shower...
Turning his head to you, his gaze seemed empty.
— I'm not going to get better, Y/N — he said in a low voice — This is me now, this depressed and pathetic thing that no one wants around...
Something about those words made you adjust your posture, irritation rising up your neck in a hot wave.
— Get in the shower, Button — you said, harshly, pushing his shoulder.
Silently, he stood up and placed himself under the cold spray, letting out a loud grunt. After searching the cupboards and only finding some soap forgotten in the corner, you returned to the shower to clean Jenson's skin and hair. “It’s going to look terrible without conditioner”, you thought to yourself, as your fingers rubbed his scalp. After rinsing off the soap that was on his skin and hair, you turned off the shower and wrapped him in a towel.
— Can you dry yourself? — you asked, earning a positive nod from him — Okay, then I'll make the bed.
Leaving the driver to dry off, you went to the bedroom, testing the lamps that flanked the bed, which looked somewhat imperious with its canopy, and condemning yourself for having forgotten that there was no power in the house. The furniture was old style, however, contrary to what you would expect in a lived-in place, the cupboards, shelves and desk were empty. You knew that this was the result of a day's work by Jenson and his sisters with the intention of keeping their father's memories.
Removing the sheet, you felt relief fill your chest when you discovered that there were still pillows and a blanket on the bed. You had just thrown the dusty fabric in one of the corners of the room when Jenson appeared in the bathroom door, completely naked. Staggering, he dropped face down on the bed without any ceremony.
— Jense, I was finishing…
— No need — he murmured, his face against the pillow.
Pursing your lips, you dropped the blanket onto the mattress, making a conscious effort not to look at his butt.
— Okay, so — you stuttered, while the pilot fidgeted, turning his head towards you — I'm going to see if there's another blanket for me to take to the couch downstairs...
— Why?
— Because I'm not going to leave you alone here.
— So stay.
You gave a small smile.
— I'll stay, Jense, but downstairs.
— Stay here — he stammered, stretching a hand across the bed.
— Here?
A positive grunt was the only response you got, heavy breathing indicating he had fallen asleep. Facing his calm expression, you didn't have the courage to deny his request, especially at that moment. Settling down on the mattress, you felt Jenson shift next to you, grunting in reaction to your movement. Then, he placed an arm over your stomach, as if he was trying to hug you or just make sure you stayed there.
And you stayed.
The sun was rising over the horizon and entering the room through the window without any ceremony when you woke up. A little confused, you rubbed your eyes, focusing again on the ceiling, realizing that the checkered pattern was from the fabric covering the canopy and not an eccentric painting choice by John. The memory of the man made you look to the side, finding Jenson still lying down, sleeping soundly, a string of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.
The scene made you give a restrained smile. The habit of drooling was something you had already used to upset Jenson, who claimed that it was a lie and that he had never drooled in his life. However, his denial didn't make you stop your jokes.
Rubbing your eyes, you stood up carefully, making your way to the stairs slowly, evaluating the way the sun entered the rooms and illuminated the spaces.
“No wonder John loved this place”, you thought to yourself, as you passed through the dining room towards the kitchen.
As you expected, there was nothing in the cupboards or refrigerator, something that seemed obvious considering the house had been empty for six months. However, at the same time as you could feel your stomach growl, you didn't feel comfortable with the idea of leaving Jenson there, especially after what he had said to you during the cold bath you had given him.
Jenson had mentioned that he was afraid of being alone and that he didn't want that for his own life. However, inside the bathroom, the driver said that no one wanted him around because he was sad, going so far as to say that he was pathetic for that. As you approached one of the windows, you pursed your lips tightly as you remembered the way he had said those words, as well as the pain that permeated them.
At that moment, you didn't know what to say to him, limiting yourself to putting him under the cold spray of the shower. However, the answer didn't come with a night's sleep, much less with a walk around the house or long minutes of contemplation of the Mediterranean that stretched blue and infinite between the trees. You knew it shouldn't be so difficult, that you could limit yourself to a few words of comfort and a hug, but it didn't seem like much.
— Good morning — you heard someone say behind you. When you turned around, you found Jenson standing in the middle of the room, his hair completely messed up as he rubbed his eyes.
— Good morning, Jense. Did you remember that underwear exists? — you gave a little smile. Looking down, the driver assessed his own underwear for a few seconds before looking back at you.
— I thought I should redeem myself after what happened yesterday. In fact, I apologize for — he hesitated for a few seconds — Everything.
— I appreciate your intention, but you don't need to apologize for yesterday.
— But I…
— It's alright. These are things that friends do.
A smile appeared on Jenson's face, but something told you he wasn't entirely sincere.
— Have you done this for other friends of yours?
— To some. You're not the only one I know who likes to drink, Jense.
— Lucky them to have you — he said, running a hand through his hair — And me too.
— Yeah, lucky you too.
The silence lasted for a few seconds until Jenson let out a sigh.
— Is there anything to eat in this house?
— I didn't find anything.
— I think Natasha cleaned the kitchen that day — he murmured, placing his hands on his hips — Do you want to go for coffee?
— In your house?
— Yeah, I guess — Jenson replied, with a little smile — I'm going to get dressed and we go, okay?
— Okay — you said, crossing your arms as he turned around and headed for the stairs.
You headed to Monaco in your rented MINI, navigating the tight, winding streets at a leisurely pace. This was clearly not something Jenson was used to, considering he was shaking his leg non-stop. However, you preferred to remain silent, trying not to get lost in the tiny entrances spread across the city.
You finally spoke up as you parked in front of the building, a white structure neatly placed against the hill that squeezed the city against the sea.
— We’re here — you smiled.
— Yes, we're here — Jenson murmured, without much excitement.
— Let's go up?
He hesitated for a few seconds.
— I don't know if it's a good idea.
You raised an eyebrow.
— Jense, you live there.
— But I don't know if I can...
— Why couldn't you go up to your apartment?
Passing a hand over his face, he merely muttered a swear word before exiting the car with heavy steps. You followed him in silence, particularly confused. Greeting the doorman, you walked down the hall to the elevator, which opened its doors promptly. Inside the metal cubicle, you could see the tension in the way Jenson clenched his jaw.
Tension that dissipated when he opened the apartment door and found that the place was empty.
— Thank God — he murmured, running his fingers through his hair.
— For what? — you questioned him.
— What?
— Thank God for what, Jense? — you repeated, seriously — What happened? Does it have something to do with what happened yesterday?
— Y/N…
— I know this is a complicated time, but I need you to trust me. You know I'm here to help you, it's always been like this, Jense.
— I know…
— So tell me. Tell me what happened and I will help you.
Jenson walked to the sofa, laying down between the pillows with oriental prints.
— It's complicated, Y/N...
— How complicated?
— Complicated in the sense that you can't fix it — Jenson replied, looking impatient — In fact, I don't even think I can do that...
— Tell me, for fuck’s sake! — you shouted, irritated by that damn suspense he was making.
— Jessica broke up with me! — he returned in a scream that seemed to carry all his anger and sadness — And before you ask, it wasn't friendly or anything like that.
You stared at Jenson for long seconds, carefully thinking about your next words. Something told you to try to talk to him to better understand the situation, perhaps even to orchestrate a reconciliation, however, you remembered something he had said the night before.
— Was she the one who said you were pathetic? That no one wants you around?
The question hit him in a sensitive spot, his blue eyes filling with tears. Upon seeing that reaction from the driver, you didn't hesitate to put yourself in the space between his legs and hug him tightly, his head against your stomach. Jessica had said that to him and, in a way, it filled you with anger.
Jenson wasn't pathetic, much less someone nobody wanted around. In fact, there were days that you just wanted him to be close to you, making you smile with his good-natured comments about trivial things. In your view, Jenson was like the sun, brightening even the grayest of British days. And he didn't deserve to be erased, especially by someone who didn't appreciate him the same way you did.
— You know it's a lie, Jense...
— But I can't stop crying — he murmured against her body — I don't feel like I used to, I just feel...
— Sad?
— I miss him — Jenson replied, looking up at you — I miss him all the time...
— This is normal…
— Not for Jessica. She doesn't want a guy like that, who keeps crying all the time, sad, missing his own father. She wants the happy guy that likes to party, have fun and stuff...
— But I don't want to — you murmured.
Suddenly, he raised his head, looking startled by his response.
— No?
— I want Jenson. And know that, whoever truly loves you, will always be by your side, no matter if you're happy or sad — you said, running a hand through his hair.
The driver gave you a small smile before hugging you again, his head against your belly. The scene could even seem romantic, considering the stunning view from the apartment and his almost intimate touch on your waist. However, any suggestion went out the window when you heard an uninteresting sound.
— I think you're hungry — Jenson murmured, looking up at you. The comment made you laugh.
— I came here because someone promised me breakfast — you replied.
— Well, if you insist — he said, letting go of you and getting up from the sofa.
The meal preparation was simple, with some scrambled eggs, toast and a cup of coffee each, courtesy of Jenson's inability to make anything more elaborate. Sitting at the kitchen counter, you were eating practically in silence when the driver broke the silence.
— Thank you for finding me yesterday.
— Oh, there’s no need to — you replied, taking another sip of your coffee.
— I need to, Y/N. I don't even remember how I ended up there without using a car, especially with that horrible whiskey.
— Yesterday you said it was great — you laughed.
— So you could see that I wasn't doing well — he replied, bursting into laughter along with you.
When the laughter stopped, you looked at each other for a few seconds.
— Any problem?
— None, I just remembered something my father said — Jenson replied.
— About what?
— About Jessica.
You rolled your eyes, picking up your coffee cup.
— Are you going to talk about her again, Jense? — you questioned, punctuating the sentence with a sip.
— No, it's just — he said quickly, hesitating a few seconds before continuing — He had told me once that she wasn't the right woman for me.
— When?
Jenson poked the scrambled eggs with his fork, somewhat disinterested.
— I think it was after I went to McLaren. It was a conversation we had after an argument I had with her. And he said that Jessica wasn't the woman for me and that there was no point in insisting on that relationship.
— No?
— “It’s a waste of time to continue with this girl, she doesn’t care about you”, he told me — he continued — But I didn’t listen. I thought it was nonsense of him, but he kept talking...
— Talking?
— That the perfect woman was right under my nose and that I was ignoring her.
You raised an eyebrow.
— And you were?
— I like to think not, but — Jenson hesitated, looking at you — I think he was right. Again.
You just smiled.
— John always had a good eye for these things. Especially when it came to you.
It was the driver's turn to smile, without saying a word. And in a way, it didn't need to. John knew his son like no one else, and if he said something was better for Jenson's life or career, he was almost always right. “Maybe that’s why he misses John so much”, you thought, turning your attention back to your plate.
After finishing your meal, you helped Jenson with organizing the kitchen, before checking the time and realizing that you were quite late.
— I need to go — you murmured, heading towards the door.
— Do you have any engagements?
— I have to pack my bags at the hotel.
— I thought you had them at the car — the driver said, with a small smile at the corner of his mouth.
— No, they're in Nice. I had gone to visit a friend here when I stopped by John's house and, well, everything happened — you explained — But now I can't stay, my flight leaves in the early afternoon.
— Where are you going?
— London.
Jenson pouted.
— What a shame, I thought youI would take the opportunity to make a stopover in Ibiza.
— No, I need a guide to the best parties and he's not available at the moment — you returned, in the acid tone that you knew disarmed him every time. And just as you expected, he laughed.
— In fact. So, I guess I'll see you later.
— Yes, you have to be in Woking in a week.
— Thank you for reminding me — he said, approaching you for a goodbye hug — Have a good trip.
— Thanks.
You were arranging your bag on your shoulder when Jenson said your name.
— Yeah? — you said, looking back.
— My father was talking about you.
A hot wave rose to your cheeks, your hand tightening on the door handle. Your heart was pounding inside your chest, almost as if it had suddenly come back to life.
— I imagined — you managed to say, before leaving the apartment.
#jenson button#jb#formula one x you#formula 1 x you#f1 x you#formula one oneshot#jenson button fanfic#jenson button one shot#jenson button x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#jenson button x reader#nordswrites
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ppl who like making friends solely with one-note cardboard boxes who will hang out with them when it's convenient and never open up about who they are as people and what their lives are like dni
#the salt just caught up with me and now im pissed#hi welcome to what i like to call a friendly reminder that hanging out with someone just because its convenient is kind of shitty#and a less friendly reminder that talking about yourself to connect with people is an autistic trait#and an even less friendly reminder that not telling someone if theyve done you wrong and then proceeding to blow up on them is ALSO SHITTY#ESPECIALLY. WHEN. THEY THINK. YOU'RE ON GOOD TERMS. BECAUSE YOU ACTED LIKE IT AND THEY CAN'T READ YOU.#IM REALLY FUCKING MAD#I THINK I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE.#the people who actually somewhat knew me and hung out with me and were on good terms with me think the same#so like BLEH MYEH :PPPPPPPPP#like okay youre entitled to your opinions but sometimes you need to keep those to yourself#did u see me insulting u to ur face#nope i have not done even once#and thats on getting better communication skills instead of lashing out at someone for trying to fit in with your own vibes#like yeah oversharing is my deal. anybody who sees me here knows that#i bond by being open with people about who i am and what i like in the hopes that theyll do the same#if u think im just around for gaming and making silly jokes u would be wrong.#but of course nobody told me people weren't there to bond like that which in my opinion shouldnt be on me#and once again i am outcasted over something honestly kind of fucking stupid#some of the jokes i made were stupid yes but thats solely because i severely misjudged the vibes#and checks notes oh yeah nobody pulled me up for it even once.#okay so let me get this straight you barely know me and have been making assumptions about me since day one#pretty much let me believe you liked me for two whole weeks instead of asking me about things or cutting me off#and im the one who gets treated like im in the wrong? okay#this miscommunication was not my fault in the slightest and i KNOW that#if you hadve just talked to me things would be fine but theyre NOT.#if you hadve just looked at my gosh darn profile and seen im the queerest fucker around making gay and homophobic type jokes maybe you woul#have had half the mind to ask me if i could stop making those jokes!!!!!!!!!#i am not transphobic!!!!!!! I AM TRANS!! I WAS MAKING A MOCKERY OF SOME TRANSPHOBIC CULTURE I HATE!!!!#i mightve vented on main ONE TIME under the guise of a silly joke but oh my god guess what?? that was an attempt to see if anybody related.#you never liked me in the first place dont lie to yourself
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control
dealer! chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smutttt, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, p in v, cream pie, cursing, oral (male + fem receiving), 69, drug use
summary: the effects of the weed that you and chris were smoking made you horny enough, but add his recent insta pictures into the mix ? any sense of self-control you had left your body and suddenly, all you could focus on was making him a trembling, whiny mess under you.
a/n: idea credits to my love @hearts4chriss <33
everything was hazy.
my red eyes drooped ever so lightly, eventually fluttering closed as i took a hit from the joint that chris and i were sharing.
the smoke floated around in the air while we spoke about whatever came to our minds, giving each other our full attention.
well, i was paying attention, just not to his words. i wanted to listen to what he had to say, but i couldn’t help but find myself fixating on everything else.
the way his tongue darted out every now and then, wetting his dried lips.
his cheeks, which were lightly dusted with a rosey tint to match the color of his lips.
his hair, strands messily sticking out in every direction, only adding to how good he looked.
the veins in his hand protruded from his skin as he dug into the ice cream he brought over for us, causing me to clear my throat as i attempted to regain my composure.
i watched as he shoveled the sweet dessert into his mouth, just before the half-melted treat could spill anywhere.
“and i was gonna ask you which pictures you think i should post today, but i ended up picking-”
"wait, you posted?” i asked, grabbing my phone from its place beside me on the bed.
my eyes widened slightly when i saw the pictures, he looked so good.
he always looked good, but these pictures in particular turned me on a little more than they should have.
“you’re joking, right ?” i asked, the words flying out of my mouth before i could stop them.
“what?” he asked confused.
the weed seemed to have taken any self-control that remained in my body, as i immediately straddled chris’s lap.
“you didn’t think you were gonna be able to post those pictures without getting your brains fucked out, did you?”
he stared up at me, mouth hanging open while his hands held onto my waist.
“i mean, i don’t-” his mouth opened and closed like a fish, while a jumbled mess of words fell from his mouth.
i hooked my fingers onto the waistband of his shorts, effectively shutting him up as he squirmed in anticipation.
i moved from my place on top of him, situating myself on my knees between his legs.
i pulled the fabric down slightly to reveal his happy trail, immediately adorning the newly exposed skin with kisses.
he let out a low whine at the feeling, hips bucking up into my face.
i quickly pushed his hips down, holding him steady as i ran my tongue along his skin.
“fuck” he sighed out, eyes falling shut as he swallowed harshly.
i could tell that the weed was affecting him, his sensitivity to my touch growing with every movement.
“lift” i told him as he followed my instructions, raising his hips while i pulled his shorts down.
i brought my hand to his clothed dick, which pressed against his boxers angrily.
i pressed a kiss to his crotch, eliciting a low whine from him.
“what do you want, chris?” i asked as i began to palm him.
“need your mouth” he moaned out.
“lay back, take off your boxers” i told him, watching as he eagerly did what i said.
when he was laid fully naked on the bed, i stripped for him.
i joined him on the bed, sitting behind him with my chest pressed to his back.
i wrapped my arms around his waist, my hand finding its way to his dick.
"i- fuck- i said my mouth” he groaned out as i collected the pre-cum that leaked out of his tip in my hand.
“you’ll get my mouth” i spoke as i squeezed his base, his hips jerking up in response, “when i feel like it”
he remained silent after that, only moans and whines leaving his mouth as i continued to move my hand up and down his length.
“does it feel good, chris?” i asked, whispering into his ear while i nibbled the lobe.
“fuck, yes. please don’t stop” he groaned, thrusting his hips up into my hand.
“tell me when you’re close, baby” i spoke before beginning to take the skin of his neck between my lips, sucking harshly.
i littered his neck with dark bruises while he continued to fuck himself against my hand.
“so eager, my love. but if you want to cum, you’ll have to slow down” i told him.
“n-no, please ! i need to cum so bad” he spoke, his pace remaining the same.
“chris. slow down” i spoke again, causing the pace of his hips to slow against my hand.
“there you go, is it so hard to listen?” i asked as he let out a groan.
“fuck” he whispered out as his veiny cock moved against my hand slowly.
“i’m close” he spoke, his breathing picking up.
before he was able to let go, however, i moved my hand away.
“shit” he whined as his cock twitched, but he was left unsatisfied.
“you don’t get to finish that easily, baby. you gotta work for it” i spoke, chuckling as he went to move his hand towards his dick.
i quickly grabbed his hand before he got the chance to touch himself, “keep your hands behind your back. i swear to god, if you move them i’ll tie your ass up” i spoke into his ear.
he did as i said, but never acknowledged that he heard me. i turned his face to look at me, tilting my head at him, “you got that?”
“yes” he whispered as he stared at my lips.
i wrapped my hand around his neck, bringing his face up to mine to pull him into a heated kiss.
he moaned into my lips, while our lips molded together.
“you ok?” i asked him, noticing the dazed look on his face.
“you’re such a freak” he smirked up to me.
“and you’re such a submissive bitch” i answered, letting go of his face and moving my hand back down to his length.
i circled my thumb around his tip, pushing it against the slit, making his hips jolt up into my hand.
“such a tease” he mumbled under his breath.
in one swift motion, i moved to his side and pulled his shoulders back to lay down.
i moved so that each of my legs were on either side of his body.
“you obviously need some help in shutting the hell up” i spoke before moving to sit on his face.
chris immediately hooked his hands around my thighs, working my pussy with his tongue.
i leaned forward, taking his dick into my hand and swirling my tongue around his tip.
he groaned into me, the vibrations intensifying my pleasure.
i moaned against him in response, making his noises increase in volume.
i took as much of him as i could, using my hand to stroke the parts of his member that my mouth couldn’t reach.
he pulled my lower body harder against his mouth, his tongue focusing on my clit while his nose nudged against my needy hole.
i focused on his tip, teasing it as much as i could with my tongue, causing him to push his hips up in need.
i could tell he was getting close, so i removed my mouth from him with an audible pop.
he let out a whine of disappointment, his hands loosening around my thighs.
“you wanna cum so bad? fine.” i spoke as i moved down his body, making my way between his legs.
he sat upright, watching wordlessly as i turned around to face him.
he stared up at me with his mouth hung open while i aligned him with my entrance, sinking down onto him.
his hands automatically flew up to my waist when he bottomed out, stopping me from moving.
“god, i could cum right now if you start moving” deciding to test his limits, i spoke “good” before beginning to move anyway.
“fuck- oh my god” he groaned out as he began to shake underneath me.
i knew his frustrations from his previously ruined orgasm were building up, but i didn’t think it’d actually make him finish so quickly.
“i can’t- holy shit” he shuddered as he shot his load into me.
i gave him a minute to regain his breath, his grip on my hips tightening slightly.
“i still- i wanna make you feel good. please let me fuck you” he begged.
“yeah? give it to me, baby” he lifted me up slightly before beginning to thrust his hips up into mine.
the feeling of his hot cum being fucked into me sent me into a frenzy, only making me wetter.
i could tell he was struggling, overworking his already spent muscles to make sure i felt good.
“you’re so good to me, chris. let me take care of you” i whispered down to him.
his thrusts came to a hault, allowing me to take over as i rocked my hips into his.
“fuck, yes. oh my god” he shakily moaned as his head fell onto my shoulder.
i brought my hand to his hair, raking my fingers through it slowly while i rolled my hips on top of him sensually.
“look so pretty like this, oh” his face scrunched up as he began to whimper under me, making me clench around him at the sound.
“fuck- i’m so sensitive” he spoke.
“i know, baby. can’t help it, love hearing those sounds you make” i breathed out.
“still feeling ok?" i asked.
he nodded his head at that, “yes, so close. can i cum?” he asked as his hands slid to my ass, groping and massaging the skin.
“wait for me, i’m almost there. can you hold it w little longer?” i asked, reaching between us to rub my clit.
“t-too much” he whined, his face scrunching up while a few tears fell down his face.
“take it, chris” i told him, wiping his tears away while he twitched inside of me.
his legs began to shake involuntarily, increasing the friction between us.
“fuck” his voice broke as he moaned out, eyes rolling back as he bit his lip.
“go ahead, chris. let go” i told him, his hips stuttering as his head flew back and he filled me up with his cum.
it wasn’t long before i finished on top of him, my release dripping out of me and onto his dick.
we took a minute to catch our breath, staying in the same position for a while.
“here, let’s get you cleaned up” i spoke, moving to get up when he stopped me.
“wait, can we just stay like this for a while?” he asked, his arms wrapping tighter around me.
“of course” i told him, wrapping my arms around his neck to hug his body close to mine.
“you ok?” i asked as i rubbed soothing circles into his back.
“when i’m with you? always” he spoke, placing a kiss to my shoulder.
🍑🍑🍑🍑
dwb! chris masterlist
main masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#chris sturniolo fic#christopher sturniolo texts#sturniolos#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fic#smut
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Could I request stripper reader and post prison Spencer being all domestic? I just think Spencer deserved to have someone take care of him after that
thank you for requesting! ♡ fem
cw spencer makes a weight related joke about reader but he is one hundred percent kidding/is talking about carrying the reader and not her actual body weight, pls don't read if it will upset you
“How's it feel now?” you ask.
Spencer glances down at you from the TV. If he had his way since being released from prison, you would spend the majority of time in his lap, and the TV would not be on, but you're trying not to smother him and he's content to let you do what you want, so long as you're in arm's reach.
“How does what feel?” he asks, frowning.
“Your leg? You know, the one you stabbed yourself in?”
“Fine. Surface wound. Hey, are you almost done?”
“No. I'm making you a mug cosy.”
“Could you not come up here and make me cosy?”
You put your little crochet hook and yarn ball on the floor near the paper pattern you're following. “That's way too cheesy a thing to say for a felon.” You grin at him. “Good for you, I'm awful at this,” —you climb onto your knees, arms out to him as he grabs you and pulls you onto the couch— “and I don't want to do it anymore.”
“Then don't.” He smiles as you settle against him, half on top of him, your pyjamas soft against his bare arms and legs. “I'm not a felon.”
“I'm kidding,” you say gently.
He puts his hand against the top of your head and forces you backwards a touch to meet his eyes. “I know.”
You glare at him. He decides he'd like to play too and glares back.
“Crochet is very difficult.”
Spencer lets you drop back into his chest. “You're good at enough things already,” he says. “Like not going to prison, and being heavy.”
You bear down on him with more weight, a laugh slipping from you unbidden. He loves how startled you sound to have laughed, and how nice you smell as you push your arm under his back to hug him. “That's sick,” you mumble, your free hand toying with the soft neck of his shirt. You pull it down, kissing the skin between his collarbone. “You can't call me heavy. That's so mean.”
“I love you,” he says.
You smile into his chest. “I love you too, even though you said I'm heavy.”
“Relatively, when you're making me carry you to bed at night–”
“I don't do that,” you laugh guiltily. “No, you've got me mixed up with someone else.”
“Well, let's just stay here tonight.” Your phone beeps. “Or not.”
You press yourself into his neck and talk warmth into the curve. “I'm not going anywhere, Spencer. I'm staying right here, forever. And in ten years you'll have huge muscles from carrying me to bed.”
“And your thigh muscles will have atrophied.”
“Like those, do you?”
“As much as I like every part of you. You're the most beautiful girl in the world.”
You snore. Spencer laughs, jostling you on his chest, and you drop the facade to kiss his throat in slow, meandering presses of the lips, no one place in mind, just warm half moons turned a little wider as you go. He breathes out slowly. Kisses like this are the ones that plagued him late at night, when the mind ran out of worry and turned to missing you instead. He would've given anything two weeks ago to have you laying on him like this, and now he has it for nothing. Just ‘cos you love him.
“Are you gonna go back?” he asks quietly.
“To the club?” You draw a short line into his neck with your nose. “Sure, once you're feeling better.”
“I'm alright. I am.”
“Until I'm feeling better, then,” you say, putting your hand on his cheek. You have slightly longer nails than when he went away, and the tips of them tickle his freshly shaven cheek as you turn his face to yours. “I'll go back just as soon as I stop missing you when you're in the bathroom. Or I run out of money.”
“Don't be childish,” he says.
“I'm not, I'm being realistic.”
“Realistically, I'll take care of you.”
You sigh happily and kiss him. That happiness passes between you in shivers, until Spencer's hot under the collar and you're giggling. “What's funny?” he asks.
“Maybe I'll get a job at the grocery store.”
Spencer doesn't know what you'll do, but he'll be there for you like you were there for him. “Good idea. You can be a checkout girl and I'll stay home, looking at pictures of you and crying while you're gone.”
You nudge him. “Don't make fun of me for that! It was a long month and a half without you, Spencer.”
He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. “I'm not making fun of you. It was the same for me, you know? Just didn't have a picture of you.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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Rather Be With You
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.
Warnings: cursing. I think that's it.
Notes: this was inspired by an ask (💐) from a bit ago. Sorry it took so long. So much happened in the last week and a half, some good some bad, and it just got on top of me. Writing had to come second. I have probably written better in my life haha, but I tried.
Words: 1972
---
“You know he's only messing with you, right?”
He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees as he wrung his hands together. Surely it had been a while. For the entirety of the morning, perhaps? Rooster had made his teasing comments at seven a.m. sharp and they were due to dock at noon. Had it been that long? Or had he really managed to shove many hours worth of painful thoughts into just a few short minutes? Somehow, he figured, it was one or the other. No in-between.
When his eyes flicked up, Nat’s face seemed to hint at the former.
It made sense, he supposed. Spending hours thinking about you wasn’t exactly uncommon. Usually, though, those thoughts were a bit nicer, with you naked and smiling, laughing, or whispering sweet words to him. He liked those better than the ones that had plagued him for…well, however long he’d been sitting there.
“He knows what he said isn’t true,” she continued. “He wouldn’t have had the balls to make jokes like that if he thought they would hold any weight. Trust me, no one particularly enjoys pissing you off.”
He wasn’t pissed off, though. He was devastated at the seeds of doubt planted in his head; at the pain and insecurity that came with the twisted knife to his gut. He hated the images forced into his mind at his friend’s words; the ones of you with other men; the ones that made it terribly clear how little you considered or missed him in his absence.
“Jake, she waited for you. I know she did.”
“Yea? How?” he asked.
Phoenix opened her mouth quickly, just as he would have had someone asked him a few hours ago if you loved him like he loved you—ready to confirm with a smile on his face. But if made to think of the answer for more than a half-second, without the hope and giddiness fueling his enthusiasm, he realized he couldn’t actually say for sure if you loved him, just as Nat now could not say with certainty that you had waited for him.
Her mouth closed.
"Exactly. You don't know," he said. "It’s not like I was smart enough to ask her to be my girlfriend before we left. She has no obligation to me, so why would she have bothered to wait six months to have me when she could have anyone?"
The brunette shook her head. “I don’t believe she's like that."
Leaning back against the bench and crossing his arms, Jake just barely held himself back from a scoff. "Like what, Nat? That wouldn't make her anything other than a woman who found someone new to sleep with after the guy she was sleeping with disappeared for half a year.”
“But you didn’t—”
“I know I didn't disappear. But I’ve been gone longer than we’d been together," he said, his voice drifting as he imagined what he hadn't stopped to consider before; a nightmare that, if proven true, would cleanly snap his heart in half. "Joke or not, Rooster could very well be right.”
—
"You're overthinking,” Penny’s voice snuck in from your left.
She reached out to take the beer glass from your hand, polished almost too clean after the twenty minutes you spent absentmindedly running a rag over it. Your mind had been too occupied with troubled thoughts to notice your unceasing drag of the dishtowel around the cylindrical shape of the glass.
It came free from your hand with ease, and as Penny placed it back on its shelf, you spewed, "What if he hooked up with someone? What if he decided six months was too long to wait for a woman that isn't his girlfriend?” You finally faced her just to find her rolling her eyes. “He likes sex, Penny. A lot. There are plenty of willing women and he's practically insatiable."
"When it comes to you, maybe."
The tenseness in your shoulders from well-formed stress was heavy with your exhale, forcing your shoulders to fall forward and your posture to take a hit. "Penny…" you groaned.
"I'm telling you, there's no way he messed around with anyone,” she swore, leaning back against the bar. "Besides, it's frowned upon to get involved with your coworkers."
"You think that's ever stopped Jake?"
She pursed her lips and tilted her head from side to side as she considered. "Ok, fair enough,” she agreed. “Once upon a time, that definitely wouldn't have stopped him. But after meeting you, he hasn't looked at another woman."
You couldn’t say that provided you with any relief. Jake had always presented as an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ type of man. He wasn’t a worrier. Once something exited his periphery, it promptly left his brain, discarded with all past challenges or predicaments. And wasn’t that what you were? An obstacle? He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend for a reason. Holding on to you for more than just the night didn’t necessarily make you more special than any of the other women. Perhaps it simply made you convenient.
"You don’t know, Penny. You’re not with him 24/7."
Penny muttered something under her breath. Her fingers rose to rub at her temple and when they dropped back to her side, the stare she shot you was imbued with determination. "Look, my bar is where Seresin used to do his "best work," as he liked to say,” she said, and you made a face. "But the only work he's been putting in since he met you has involved getting you to like him and making you happy after you two started your little…thing."
"You may not pay attention, but I do," she practically scolded. "Now, a month ago you were excited to meet him when he got back, and then you let your thoughts get away from you and it’s fucking everything up."
To your own shame, you couldn't deny that. So you didn't bother, rather opting to nibble on your thumbnail.
"They'll be back soon, so are you coming with me or not?"
—
He didn’t know what he was doing, standing there with his bag over his shoulder. But he felt like a heavy weight, an anchor in a sea of levity. Looking around, the men and women he’d been packed in with for the last six months were thrilled, the room sprinkled with smiles and laughs of giddiness in anticipation of having their families in their arms again.
He didn’t have that.
He wanted to have it, but that was fully reliant on you. Your feelings. Your wants and desires. Your plan for your future. Jake could imagine a world where he had the strength to beg to be a part of your life—to plead as desperately as if fighting for enough air to fill his lungs—but reality made that entirely out of his will and control. So he didn't shove his way forward when they made it home. He couldn't bring himself to jump in front of the others who had people waiting for them upon their return. Instead, he let them file out, his team included, until he was one of the final few to step back on dry, solid land.
As he walked by couple after couple, family after family, his already weak composure began to crumble at its edges. The people milling around him felt like a mocking montage of the life he didn’t have. Men and women kissing their partners or spouses, hugging their children with no intent of letting go, their tears coating the ground with joy.
Jake's chest constricted. He needed to get himself on the other side of it, but weaving through the mass of bodies proved harder than he expected.
His shoulders bumped into theirs, his chest skimming across backs and limbs when he turned to his side to sneak through narrow openings. Little kids ran into his legs like spinning tops on the loose from their wound-up energy finally releasing, though each one quickly recovered and returned to their parents, maintaining the same level of enthusiasm they had prior to smacking face-first into a muscled calf.
With each unintentional nudge, he apologized, but no one so much as noticed, too engrossed in their relief at making it home unscathed or in seeing their loved ones still intact. Somewhere, his teammates were doing the same. They’d found their partners, and he thought he’d found his, but his overconfidence in your feelings kept him from ensuring you were actually together. And maybe it was too late. Maybe he would have no choice but to watch you move on from him.
Finally breaking through the edge of the crowd, Jake took his first deep breath. He didn’t look back as he made his way to his truck. He didn’t turn when rushed footsteps grew closer until they sounded as if right on his tail.
“Jake.”
He paused and sighed. He should’ve known he would imagine your voice. Six months without that lovely sound, his only chance at hearing it being within his dreams, took its toll. It haunted him like a ghost on that ship. Of course it wouldn’t cease just because he was home.
“I was calling you, but you didn’t hear me.” There was a soft chuckle, then, “Well, at least I hope you didn’t hear me.”
He spun on his heel and was greeted with your smile. It lacked its carefree nature, instead just barely failing to conceal a twinge of nerves, but beautiful nonetheless. He couldn’t help but smile back.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a few steps closer.
“I came with Penny.” The roundness of your cheeks turned pink from your blush. You lightly shrugged. “I missed you.”
With those words, Jake knew Rooster was deserving of a swift smack upside the head, one he very well may deliver. You cared. You missed him, even.
Fucking Rooster.
“Oh, I, um,” you continued, your eyes falling down to your hand. “I got you these. It feels silly now, but at the time I thought they would be nice, I guess.”
He followed your line of sight to the small bundle in your hand. Five long stems were tight in your grip, the bulbs on their ends made up of layers of silky red petals.
"I was thinking," you swallowed hard and met his gaze, "I don't actually know if you like flowers. And if you do, I didn't know your favorite. I just picked mine." The sweet grin that returned to your face practically demanded he kiss you. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. All of you. Every little bit.
And you weren't wrong. He hadn't had a favorite.
He did now.
Jake swallowed through the tightness in his throat, fighting back the stinging in the corners of his eyes.
He didn't get gifts, and certainly not from the women he was with. But then again, with the exception of you, he hadn't chosen to be with a woman for more than a night or two in the last decade.
"I like the yellow ones but they symbolize friendship and that wasn't really what I was going for, so I—"
"I love you.”
Your smile, your jaw, your hand, fell. "You…what?"
He let out a chuckle and reached for you. "Come here."
You didn't hesitate sliding your hand into his and he quickly pulled you to him, your chests hitting, lips meeting with an intensity that he hoped expressed even just a lick of how much he missed you. You draped your arms around his shoulders and the petals of the flowers tickled the nape of his neck.
"Six months was too long," you whispered when you separated.
He nudged his nose against yours. "Way too long."
---
tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @leila22rogers
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#top gun maverick#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun#jake hangman seresin fic#top gun hangman#jake hangman seresin x y/n#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin fluff#jake hangman seresin x you#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x you#jake hangman x reader#tgm fic#tgm
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Six And A Half Minutes
word count: 1608 || avg. reading time: 7 mins. (ironically)
pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader
genre: Smutty McSmutterson, teasing, nipple play, friends to lovers (?)
warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities
synopsis: you haven‘t had sex in a while and your best friend offers to help out
____________________________________________
“Don’t.“
“I wasn’t doing anything.“
“I know that look. Don’t call him.“
Rintarou had just stepped out of his bathroom back to the living room to find you staring at your phone, biting your nails in thought.
“I doubt he‘s even up, it‘s almost 2am.“
“Good, then put the phone away.“
“Ha, bit rich coming from you.“
He confiscated the device of temptation, ignoring the pout that followed.
“Yer gettin’ this back when I know yer gonna behave.“ He shook his head, flicking some access water from his hair into your face - like spraying a misbehaving puppy with a water bottle.
You turned back to the TV, sinking deeper into the collar of your PJs.
Exams were finally over and to celebrate you had planned a movie marathon with your best friend. Since the news predicted a nasty storm tonight you both decided you would spend the night on his couch.
“Why call the bastard anyways?“
You shrugged, not looking at him.
“Booty call? Christ, y/n, can‘t ya just watch porn like the rest of us?“
“Eh, nothing‘s been doing it for me lately. I was so annoyed by the breakup and exhausted from studying that it‘s been well over a month since I-“, you stopped when you realized what you were saying.
He grinned. “Ya know, if you need it that badly, I‘ll step up.“
“Oh, you brave soul. I‘m good.“, you scoffed.
“Ya were just about to call a lyin‘, cheatin‘ jerk and somehow my offer is ridiculous?“
“Don‘t take this the wrong way, but I don‘t wanna fuck my best friend and I highly doubt you want that either.“
Rintarou bit back a remark, then sighed and said, “We don‘t have to have sex to make ya feel good, ya know.“
“What are you gonna do? Stare me to orgasm?“
You finally managed to look at him - he didn’t seem to be joking.
“Nah, but I‘ve been told I‘m pretty good with my hands. And mouth.“
“What are you even saying right now? I don‘t want you anywhere near…“, you vaguely gestured to your lap.
“Alright then. Bet I can make ya cum by just playin‘ with yer boobs.“
“Oh my god, you‘re serious.“
“Well yeah, thanks for noticin‘.“
You chewed your bottom lip in thought.
“What happens if you manage to make me cum?“, you asked in a small voice.
He shrugged. “Then ya owe me one.“
The offer did sound exciting and you’d be lying if you said he had never crossed your mind during intimate moments you had with yourself. But this was insane! So many things could go wrong with this. What if things would turn weird afterwards and you‘d lose him as a friend?
“If it’s too weird like this we can set a timer or somethin‘.”, he suggested, as always reading your thoughts right off your face.
“Alright… how long… do you think you need? A minute?”
“One minute?! Are ya kidding? I’m good, but not that good!”
You laughed nervously. “Fine. 3 minutes?”
“10.”
“10?! No! That’s too long.”
“Fine, 8.”
“How about 5?”
“7.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just keepin’ it realistic. 5 isn’t enough.”
“You can do it in 5.”, you said, trying to add a light encouraging tone as a joke.
He didn’t budge. “7.”
“Why 7?”
“Cause 7 minutes in heaven.”
He grinned again.
“I remember those seven minutes always being very long and awkward. 6.”
“7.”
“This is not how this compromising thing works!”
“Hey, yer the one who wants to get off.”
“Fine…” you say, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks, “6 and a half.”
“For fuck sake. Fine six and a half. But don’t complain if ya don’t cum.”
Your ears were ringing from his bluntness and you rubbed your legs together, trying to covertly get some friction.
He muted the TV and scooched closer, nodding towards your top.
You were pretty sure your whole face was bright red at this point.
“Ya gotta lift yer shirt for me or take it off, whatever ya prefer.“
The insecurities came flooding in. Sitting was not the sexiest pose you had to offer. Your belly fat rolled and bunched, then there were the stretchmarks clawing at your skin, plus you knew you had a terrible posture, making you sit like the hunchback of Notre Dame. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and took a deep breath, slowly lifting the hem.
“Wait.“, he suddenly said and got up, hurrying out of the room.
Your shoulders sagged. Didn‘t take much for him to run for the hills. You wanted to bury your face in your hands but a few moments later he was already back, a tie in his hand.
“W-what are you doing?“, you stammered.
“Well, ya looked super uncomfortable so I figured a blindfold might help. I don‘t have a proper one so I guess my old uniform tie has to do.“
That was… surprisingly thoughtful and sweet. You smiled and relaxed a bit.
With his help you used the red tie to cover your eyes. He made sure your hair wasn‘t caught anywhere and the knot wasn‘t too tight.
“Lay back.“, he said simply. You swallowed and slowly lowered yourself until your head touched the armrest.
“Ya comfy now?“
You nodded.
“Alright.“
You heard him tapping on his phone. “Timer’s set, lift yer shirt.“
Feeling a little more confident now, you did as he told you.
The complete darkness provided by the makeshift blindfold helped a lot and the cold breeze from his aircon brushed gently over your exposed skin.
If your nipples hadn‘t already been hard from the whole conversation before, they were now.
You heard him curse, then shift on the couch. You waited in your own private darkness. The only sound was the quiet whirring of the air con.
And then your bra was pulled down and his hands were on your breasts, caressing, just on the sides at first. A gasp dropped from your lips and you shivered, arching your back into the touch.
Rintarou‘s mouth was dry. He couldn‘t believe this was real. Your skin was so much softer than he had imagined. With calloused fingers he brushed over your flesh, just teasing at first, so very pleased when, with another shudder, goosebumps started to appear on your skin. Your nipples looked so fucking tempting but he wanted to build to it. Not like he had a lot of time, but he needed to savor this. When he finally cupped your breasts he had to bite his lips to stop a new stream of curses. Pillowy and inviting he wanted nothing more than to rest his head and fall asleep. Or push his painfully hard cock between them.
He was already two minutes down. Shit.
He loved how sensitive you were to every squeeze, every brush. You really hadn‘t had any release in weeks, huh. Fuck, he wanted you. He licked his lips and lowered his head. Holding your breasts in both hands he drew circles with the tip of his tongue around your nipples.
And you moaned. Sending lust filled surges straight to his cock. He felt the twitch in his sweats. He needed you to do that again.
He moved to the other nipple, making sure to flick the abandoned one with his finger. You started to squirm and he was rewarded with another moan.
More. More. He closed his lips around you, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the perfect little pebble in his mouth.
Oh, he was addicted to you. There was nothing else but you. He let your nipple go, only to set kisses to your skin and blow on your little pearls, wet from his saliva.
“Fuck, Rintarou…“
He was getting dizzy, his movements became needier and it took all of his remaining focus to not start rutting his stiff cock against your plush thighs.
Your whimpers and sighs were almost non-stop now and he just openly groaned with your perfect tits in his mouth now, the vibrations tickling your nipples.
Where had the time gone? When he glanced over at his phone, he only had a minute left.
He nibbled at your breasts, sucking deep red marks into the flesh. His hands, so careful and gentle at first, now became groping and he moaned loudly when his cock made accidental contact with your leg. He was not above humping you like a dog but he really needed you to cum first.
“Oh God, yes… Yes, nngh, Rintarou, fuck…“
Shit, were you close? He pinched your nipples, then let them plop out of his mouth before really latching on like his life depended on it.
Cum for me, he thought. Please.
You raised your hand and he almost came right there himself, when your fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer to you.
“Fuck, y/n, cum for me.“, he whispered against your skin, “Ya can do it. Cum for me, baby.“
And the timer went off.
Startled by the noise you shot up, removing the blindfold.
The brightness of the lights left you disoriented for a moment. Rintarou sat before you, out of breath, flushed, disheveled. You had never seen this kind of hunger in his eyes. You felt embarrassed, fixing your bra over your slick covered breasts and lowering the hem of your shirt.
You still felt him on your skin. Why did you stop him? Maybe he would have continued, if you hadn‘t. Shit, you were so close.
While trying to avoid his eyes, your gaze landed on his sweats and the rather sizable imprint of his cock pushing against the fabric.
He didn‘t hide it. He knew you saw it. And he was waiting for your next move.
____________________________________________
a/n: part 2
@nyctophilicroses - covertly slides over another Suna smut fic with chubby reader
#suna x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#suna x reader#haikyuu smut#suna smut#suna rintarou#hq suna#haikyuu suna#chubby reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro smut#suna rintaro x you
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'*•.¸♡ — simon 'ghost' riley' x fem!reader
you wanna kiss me so bad — part 2 (wc 1.4k)
part 1 [this can still be read w/o reading pt 1]
You had taken Ghost’s jests in stride. He clearly wanted to one-up you; wanting to show you and Soap he could be just as comical.
At least he wasn’t angry when you teased him. But still, you hadn’t expected him to respond the way he had.
You were used to playful teasing, like you would with a sibling. And normally, you could handle crude remarks, always making those with Soap. But when it came to Ghost, something about the way he said them bothered you more than it should have.
You had refrained from talking to Ghost, saving anything you had to say for a later date. Ghost found your response… odd. You went from slowly opening up, joking with the team lightheartedly, to closed off and seemingly lacking any ounce of humor.
You pulled your jacket tighter as you made it outside, spotting Soap and Ghost up ahead, loading the truck for the upcoming mission.
Ghost stopped what he was doing and stared at you. You froze, your brows furrowing at his sudden shift. Even Soap paused what he was doing to look up at Lt.
“Yes?” You asked him, a bit confused.
“You’re wearing that?” Ghost asked you exasperated, his eyes looking you up and down.
You felt your face heat. You were literally wearing the same outfit as half the men on the team. It was a uniform after all. He sounded like Soap with his stupid joke. “I guess I am,” you mumbled. You leaned over and picked up a crate to shove on the truck.
Soap smirked, clearly entertained by the awkwardness between you and Ghost.
You loaded the gear quietly for several moments before Ghost met your rhythm, walking beside you as you both carried duffel bags.
“Calling me stupid one minute, t’not having my jokes at all,” he mumbled. “Can’t seem to figure you out.”
He thought you might not answer him again. You huffed as you tossed the bag onto the truck then turned to face him. “You ever considered the fact that maybe you’re just not that good at puzzles?”
You couldn’t see, but Ghost smiled under his mask. Soap snickered in the background. Ghost turned and leaned against the truck, all the gear loaded up, and crossed his arms.
“Guess I just prefer a more hands-on approach.”
Your breath got caught in your throat. You averted his eyes, trying to act like his words weren’t flustering you. Teasing was so much more fun when it was just ludicrous jabs. Whatever this was that Ghost kept pulling, was leaving you speechless, and you hated it. You wonder if you’d respond the same if it was anyone else saying these things to you.
Soap bumped his shoulder against Ghost, finally forcing his eyes away from you. “If y’need the practice L.t., I wouldn’t mind—”
“If you finish that sentence, Johnny, I swear to god.”
Soap laughed and climbed into the back of the humvee.
You refrained from glaring at Ghost the entire ride, though it took a lot of willpower. You swear you could feel the heat of his gaze along your neck. You were determined to fluster him like he had been doing to you.
And of course, when the team split up, you were somehow stuck with Ghost. It’s like the gods enjoyed torturing you.
You clutched the sniper closer to your chest, the winter wind sending a chill down your spine. You followed Ghost in silence to the lookout point, your boots crunching the half-melted snow.
Once on target, you laid prone on your stomach, aiming your rifle into the distance. You checked down the barrel, looking out for any of the men on your team, trying to spot them. Ghost still hadn’t gotten down beside you yet.
“Squattin’ too hard on the joints, Lt.?” You teased, keeping your one eye squared through your scope.
“If you’re as good a shot as you are at runnin’ your mouth, this is a shoe in,” he muttered, a bit annoyed. You grinned, knowing he couldn’t see, with a bit of satisfaction at getting under his skin.
Ten minutes had passed and still nothing had happened. You got up onto your knees and looked over at Ghost. He was sitting in the same position, tapping on his tablet to locate the men. You noticed his fingers turning red from the cold, his gloves tucked up under his arm so he could use the screen.
“Pretty cold out here, Lt.,” you began casually.
His eyes flickered to you briefly before going right back to what he was doing.
“Should hold my hand. You know… so it doesn’t freeze.”
You heard Ghost laugh through his nose, his eyes still focused downward.
You turned back to your sniper and saw Ghost shift out of the corner of your eye. You glanced over and you bit your lip to keep from gaping. Ghost had continued what he was doing, but his free hand was nonchalantly outstretched, palm open and turned up for you to take as he concentrated on the GPS tracker.
When you didn’t take his hand he looked up. “What? That all talk, then?” He mocked.
This whole teasing thing didn’t really work when the participating party wanted all the stupid things you offered.
You decided to play things his way then. You reached out and slid your hand into his. He glared at you, almost like he was overly confident you weren’t going to call his bluff.
You wanted to show him you were just as committed to the bit as he was.
“Didn’t take you for the affectionate type, Lieutenant.” You laced your fingers together and gave him a saccharine smile.
He shook his head, shoving his tool back into his bag before tugging you towards him, his grip firm around your hand. “Affection is a weakness,” he explained.
“Oh! So is that why you haven’t kissed me yet? Afraid to be weak?”
He knew exactly what you were doing. You were intimidated when he fired remarks back at you, ones that stumped you and left you flustered. You were trying to outdo him; to make him flustered. And Ghost was more than pleased.
He tugged you so close you had to use your hand not tangled in his to catch his chest, stopping you from flying into him.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”
“So, what if I would?” You threw his words from the other day back at him.
“This is a game you can’t win, sergeant,” he growled out, his eyes locked on yours, unwavering as he stared you down.
“No? N’ why’s that?” You asked cooly, trying to mask the fact that your heart was racing. “You think I’m lying?” You were… weren’t you?
Ghost’s eyes narrowed, his mind reeling behind his glare. You swallowed and he traced the way your throat bobbed. Before you had the chance to say more, Ghost used his free hand to push his mask up to his nose, baring his chin and lips to you. He grabbed the front of your tactical vest, his fingers looping into the fabric, and pulled you level with him, your eyes turning to moons.
“What are ya gonna have t’say once I prove ya wrong?” He asked.
You bit your lip, steadying your rapid breaths. “You won’t.”
Ghost grinned and you were so shocked by seeing his mouth for the first time, watching his lips tip up into a smile, that you didn’t realize he had closed the distance between the two of you until it was too late.
The kiss wasn’t long, just enough to be more than a peck. You were surprised at how soft his lips were, and how his faint stubble tickled.
He broke apart, pushing you backwards and dropping both his hands.
Maybe he had taken things too far. He averted his gaze while you stared up at him dumbly. Ghost smirked, a bit too proud of himself for stumping you. And he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t actually wanted to kiss you. No, he was itching to kiss you far more than what just unfolded.
“At least that got you to finally shut your mouth.” You could hear the playful lilt in his voice and it made your chest beat rapidly. You never expected to share a kiss with your lieutenant. And you never thought you’d catch feelings for him. But here you were.
What had you gotten yourself into?
#ghost#simon riley#smut#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley x reader#cod#ghost fanfic#simon riley fanfic#ghost call of duty#ghost angst#cod mw2#cod fic#call of duty fanfic#mw2 fanfic#mw3#ghost mw3
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Can you do a smut part 2 for “Waterloo” where clarisse gets really jealous and tells reader that if she breaks up with her boyfriend she will ✨reward✨ reader so reader breaks up with her boyfriend after some contemplating. When clarisse found out that reader actually broke up with him she drags reader somewhere and smut pursues.
THIS IS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED IT??!??! HOLYSHII
Take a chance with me
Clarisse La Rue X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader
PART 2 OF WATERLOO
Summary: After the incident in the bathrooms, Clarisse decided she had enough of your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend.
Warnings: (Light) SMUT. Cursing and cheating, misogynists (Remind me if i missed one!)
Author's note: THIS TOOK KINDA LONG SINCE THIS IS A COLLABORATION WITH MY BESTFRIEND, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS! (i added a little twist in the end)
Collab with -🍵 <33
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It was another painful day with your boyfriend, Keith. Camp Half-Blood was still in its normal route, Daily Practices, Bonfire singalongs, Games, But there's someone who you can't stop thinking about.
Clarisse
Her chapped lips moving in sync with your soft ones while your lipstick smudged. It was all tempting.
But now here you are, With you boyfriend's gang, trying not to cringe every time they made a bad joke, You could only stare at Clarisse from afar, while she trained with her siblings, Yelling at them at the same time.
I love charlie, But you aren't mine.
"How 'bout you, Y/n? why're you here? shouldn't you supposed to be in tea parties making friendship bracelets and painting your nails?" Asked logan, One of Keith's friends. Then, all of them started laughing, You looked at your boyfriend, trying to spot any signs of empathy, But he, himself laughed along with his friends.
That bitch.
Then you snapped.
"The only thing that you should be doing right now is to keep that pretty little mouth shut" They walked towards you, Your boyfriend, Keith had the same look they had, Rage. You wondered for a second, Why was he looking at you like that? Why was he siding with the people who wronged you?
"How about you? Logan? Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on your Godly parent since you haven't been claimed yet?" You raised a brow at him while looking stern, "I'm certain any God would be embarrassed to have you as their son. Hence being unclaimed for almost two years straight" Your lips curled into a small smirk as you watched his eyes widened in fury.
The gang then stood up and looked at you, eyes fuming with anger as if it could eat you alive. You never meant it, You even felt sorry for the poor boy, But you couldn't help it, They were like this every time you were with them, Is it so bad to stand up for yourself?
You stepped back, carefully analyzing their faces, keeping an eye for any upcoming blows or attacks, As they slowly walked towards you, You bumped into someone.
She held her head high, towering over you even though you were only two inch shorter than her. Seeing Clarisse, you felt relief wash over you, internally sighing, You let your guard down a bit, but not entirely.
Shit. You thought. Your mind panicked thinking that you got cornered by them and on instinct you immediately thought of using your charm speak, trying to find an escape route. Yet determined to fight against them you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the amount of people you're about to fight.
As you were trying to find the right words to use against them, You felt a strong body behind you, you quickly turned around and saw none other than Clarisse La Rue. Her usual intimidating demeanour still plastered on her face as she glared at the group of boys.
"Is anything the matter?" She asked, Her eyes darting from you to the group of boys.
"None of your damn business, La Rue. Let us do our thing" One of the boys, Yuan, said.
" By 'thing' you mean terrorizing MY 'friend' her to death?" Hearing those words you refrain to sneak a glance at Clarisse, As if she didn't just fucked you inside the camp bathroom days ago.
Someone scoffed, It was Keith. Looking at Clarisse with a judgeful look.
"She's MY girlfriend, La Rue. Therefore my property." He said with a boastful look. "Who are you to stick your nose around our business? You're just an outsider in this.. —" Registering Clarisse's words, he sent a scowling look towards you, Forgetting the current situation he turned around to face you fully. "L/n." There was it again. The use of your surname and that warning tone he uses whenever you two argue.
You loathed moments like this. Every argument you had with him you always felt belittled while trying to fight for your rights, but it always ends up with Keith shifting the blame to you every.single.damn.time. "What? Levine." You answered firmly, But this time, You aren't backing down this war of words.
Your expression changed, Your eyes says it all, But you kept your head high. When Clarisse was about to defend you, you quickly stretched out your arm to refrain her from doing anything rash. "You've got the nerve to say that when YOU'RE the one who's following them around, doing EVERY SINGLE THING that they asked for!"
Keith then sneered at you, He was never used to you talking back, But here you are, standing proudly, ready to defend yourself. But of course, he bites back. "Friends? really? Impossible, You know your mother and her father had relations, Long story short, Fucking. Plus, look at La Rue, Compared to her, You're just an attention seeking lapdog"
At that moment, Clarisse was ready to pierce her spear into your shitty boyfriend's head, Thinking about it.. the sight of him with his head pierced pooling with blood made her quite satisfied.
Keith's expression changed, He knew what was gonna happened, That's why he stepped up and approached you, Trying to hold your hand.
"I'm sorry baby" He whispered,as he got a hold of your hands. "You know I didn't mean to insult you like that, I love you Y/n, you know that right baby? I love you so much Y/n". Clarisse raised her dark brows, Looking at you, waiting for your response.
"Okay...I forgive you.." You whispered, Your breathing became normal and you didn't know why, You didn't know why you always give in his sugar coated lies but you couldn't refuse his touch and those doe eyes of his. You could've easily be more mad at him but you knew better than adding fuel to the fire when a lot of people are watching.
Not long after hearing your response, Keith then smiled 'sweetly' as he hugged you. Pressing his nose against your soft hair as he inhaled your sweet scent.
Clarisse's POV
Clarisse stood there awkwardly, Watching you with careful eyes wondering, Why the fuck you forgave him and why the the fuck were you still willing to be with that sick bastard.
__
I clutched my spear in hand, whilst watching Y/n from afar, Already with her pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. It had been a week since that incident in the mess hall happened, I wondered why she would submit easily to his will, Just a simple apology wouldn't make the cut.
Then, I saw her kiss her boyfriend's lips before getting up, the sight of keith's lips touching her was enough to make me gag. I wanted to talk to you, shooting one last glance at my half siblings, I slipped away and followed Y/n.
Y/n was heading towards the Amphitheatre, I suppose she was there to meet her friends, But before she could even reach the steps, I pulled her aside near the armory, When her back hit the wall, I slammed the door shut and opened the small light switch.
She was about to scream, But as soon as the light illuminated the room and revealed me, She closed her mouth and sighed.
"Clarisse..What—" Before she could even answer i cupped her cheeks and looked into her eyes, Her brows furrowed, Her eyes darting to my eyes and lips.
Then, I kissed her, Not because of passion, Because i was mad at her, Because she was still with the boy either of us hated, Mad at her for kissing him every stupid arguments when she was supposed to be mine. I kissed her hoping that this is the final time I get to kiss her in the shadows. "Break up with him." I said to her in a whisper as I pulled away from the kiss, her eyes widened in shock, lips quivering nervously or was it excitement?
I waited eagerly for her response, Imagining all of the things we could do together without her boyfriend sticking his nose into our business, wanting her back while she's still in my arms. My trance was broken when I saw her face deplete in a disagreeing expression, I immediately pecked her lips before whispering in her ear. "Because if you do, I might just give you a special reward in return"
I winked at her, My arms still gripping her waist, "What kind of reward?" She asked, Her eyes beaming with hope. I then caressed her cheeks "You'll have to find out"
That sentence made her think for a moment, I watched her carefully, Praying to the Gods that she will agree, So that I can finally hold her hand and kiss her right in front of everyone. Loudly and Proudly.
After a moment, I was rewarded with the sight of her nodding in agreement, "Yeah, I'll do it" I smiled, so widely that my cheeks hurt, But I couldn't care less, She also smiled, Making my heart melt as i felt her lips touch mine.
It was now the next day, the day after that talk you had with Clarisse in the armor room and the day you'll finally dump your shitty ass boyfriend. Making you way through out the camp you walk towards cabin 9, opening the door you welcomed yourself into your boyfriend's- well soon to be ex boyfriend's cabin. As you were about to call out his name you heard a noise, "What if someone sees us, Honey?" You heard a female voice say — It was between a moan and a gasp.
__
You walk into the room more careful not to disturb their "love making", you cleared your throat. "Excuse me?" you said in an uninterested tone, you watch the two quickly pull away from each other, Keith even pushed the girl away, making her yelp as her body hit the cold ground.
You peaked through the small corner that seperated you and— well, Keith and and his lover. The girl that Keith was kissing sat on top of the counter you onced sat, Her hands roaming around your soon to be ex's body, Followed by his groan. "Then let them see my love, let them see how much we love each other" Keith said to his lover while letting out a small breathy chuckle.
At first you wanted to back down from all of this and break down in your cabin but then you remembered Clarisse's words.. 'Break up with him. Because if you do, I might just give you a special reward in return'. That's when you realize you're not going to lose anything except a little bit of face and reputation,but you'll be free from your shitty boyfriend's manipulation, you'll be free from the toxicity of this relationship, you'll finally be with Clarisse.
"What was that for?!" She yelled, her hair disheveled, But keith ignored her, Stuttering and trying to find right words to explain what you just walked into.
"Sweethea-"
Before he could even explain, You slapped him, Fast and Sharp, He tumbled lightly, But thanks to his muscular body, he managed to keep his balance. Keith clenched his jaw.
"Save it, Keith. I don't wanna hear excuses coming from your mouth that once touched mine! You're disgusting"
You glared at the girl, ready to attack her, but your instinct stopped you, You looked at them with red eyes one last time before leaving. You didn't care if they started kissing again, You didn't care if they talked shit about you, All you cared about is that you're free.
After storming out of the hephaestus cabin, Your first thought was Clarisse, There was no more plotting on how to conduct your affair without him seeing, for the Gods see everything.
You then ran around camp, trying to spot your lover for you had missed her so dearly, craving her touch every second that passes by.
Then, You noticed every camper huddled into small groups, heading towards the camp fire, the ares cabin slowly emptying itself, But Clarisse was nowhere to be found, You felt disappointed but there was a little hope inside you, That's why you walked towards her cabin, You could've sworn you saw her silhouette, Peaking, You saw her sitting on the edge of her bed.
She looked- Nervous...? But her face changed when she saw you, The Ares girl stood up and ran towards you.
"Well?" She asked breathily, Waiting for the response that can change your lives.
"We're over, Him and I" Clarisse felt like a big heavy boulder has been lifted up her shoulders, She then proceeded to cup your cheeks, Her eyes glistening with love.
"Good, He doesn't deserve you" She whispered before kissing you, Pushing you into her bed, You groaned and ran your fingers through her messy curls as she bit your lower lip. You let out a small moan before feeling her palms going in your inner thighs, She pushed you, until you felt your legs touch her bed, She laid you down, straddling you. Clarisse pulled away, taking the matters into her own hands, she undressed you herself, revealing your red bra, It lifted your breasts, That made her smile, watching it rise up and down.
You then tugged on her shirt, Desperate to see her, Clarisse smiled and undressed herself, Her bra was a black one, with laces, But it didn't held your breasts up, It seems like her bra was merely a decoration.
It all then happened so fast, Clarisse's sweaty body pressed against yours as you two moaned, Legs intertwined, moaning each other's names. Her peppering your neck with hickeys mercilessly while her legs rubbed between your thighs creating unimaginable frictions, Her fingers inside you, Curling themselves. Clarisse watched you carefully, gasping and moaning gripping her sheets for dear life, She didn't care if her fresh sheets were stained, as long as it came from you.
Clarisse pressed her lips against your red ones, Gripping the back of neck, pressing you closer to her, she whispered "He doesn't love you like I do, Honey.." She then proceeded to kiss you, trailing her lips down to your breasts.
You two were so lost in eachother you didn't even noticed it, An invisible golden net dropped down the ceiling, You screamed as Clarisse fought against the net, But it was so strong and thin, No matter how hard Clarisse looked, She couldn't even see it. You and Clarisse both thrashed and fought against the metal, Until a shadow emerged from the doorway.
Keith.
He looked quite broken, seeing the scene before him, his face said it all, He had not want to believe it, and it hurt him...To the core.
For a second, Clarisse almost felt sorry for the wrench...Almost. But then his face hardened and he burst into a fury. He cursed obscenities to you, And then called out into everyone to see the shameful scene. And in their hoards, they came running. Clarisse turned to you and shielded you as best she can from their prying eyes. Courses of laughter ran out around us and The Hephaestus Boy looked satisfied.
He called out mocking words, and threatening to keep you and Clarisse naked and trapped for all eternity as a punishment.
But Clarisse held her head high and spoke;
"If i had a choice, There is no place i'd rather be...Trapped with the love of my life? What a punishment indeed..." Clarisse mocked him, Then all of the Demigods started laughing...But this time, at the little fool, Keith. And he shrunk in on himself, he turned red in embarrassment.
No one knew that you and keith had broken up, That's why you and clarisse were the hot gossip.
The Hephaestus boy stormed out, as the fit of laughter became louder, dragging with him the net that had trapped you two, But Clarisse couldn't care less, She demanded the door to be shut and be alone with you, so the campers did left.
As Selene crossed the skies with her silver chariot, You laid with Clarisse and dozed of, Still bare from the activities you guys had done.
And when Helios crossed the skies in the morning, Clarisse wrapped her arms around you and inhaled your scent, Knowing that you're hers...Loudly and Proudly.
A/N: HOLYSHI THIS TOOK SO LONG. I ADDED A LITTLE TWIST SINCE I WANNA MAKE THE 'The history book on the shelf, is always repeating itself' ACCURATE! WHATCHA THINK ABOUT IT? SORRY THIS TOOK LONG! <33 I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS!
-🍵
#xy/n#clarisse la rue x reader#clarrise pjo#clarisse la rue#percy jackon and the olympians#dior goodjohn#pjo tv show#waterloo
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trust me (part 2) — billy the kid (2022) x barowner!reader
okay part two hehe
as always, warnings: smut!, fem!sub!reader, dom!billy, p in v sex, oral m receiving, overstimulation (I should be stopped), choking, dirty talk, breeding kink (hehe)
anyway… trust me, part two:
billy had kept his promise.
he always kept his station right at your bar, in the middle.
you figured it would stop a few days after the two of you were married — but billy held his post.
with billy there and making his silent presence known as your defensive line, most trouble-making men would eye billy, order their drink, grunt, and then pay. to hell with a fake wedding ring, even your real one — when billy the kid sat at your bar, glaring at walking problems from the brim of his hat, no one dared cause a scene.
the townspeople may have stopped their shenanigans… but that didn’t mean that all of your problems disappeared.
in fact, new ones seemed to pop up.
as his new wife, you wouldn’t say they followed billy — but they sure as hell didn’t follow you.
groups of men wearing worn clothes with their guns on display would venture in and immediately start glaring at billy. you found that odd — because what man walks into a bar, and doesn’t immediately order at the bar?
“don’t pay them any mind, sweetheart,” billy would say to you, trying to quell your worries.
you narrowed your eyes at him, wiping down a glass. “if you didn’t want to marry a guard dog, maybe the queen’s daughter is still single.”
his lips would purse in a way that suggested he was fighting a laugh. “i’ll protect you, darlin’. you doubt that?”
“and i’ll protect you,” you bit. “you think i wouldn’t? like i said, you could probably charm —“
“as if any of them could scare me like you do,” he spoke lowly, the want to smile now winning. admiration could be seen in his piercing blue eyes, which also tugged on the corners of his lips.
“as if any of them would know that that’s you trying to be sweet,” you scoffed, half-jokingly. “and — as if anyone would be flattered like i am.”
billy sat back in his chair as he turned his head towards the side. he averted his eyes as he tried to hide his large grin that threatened to take over his face. when a rosy hue had founds it way onto his cheeks — you knew you had done it. you actually made billy the kid blush.
one day you would tease him for it — but not today. with the paranoia that always lingered in the back of your bar — you chose to award yourself and billy with this small moment of intimacy: knowing you were the only person that could break through his tough exterior.
but that tough exterior immediately rose once those men approached the bar.
there were about four or five of them, outnumbering both you and billy. billy always had a gun on his belt, and you had one underneath the counter and strapped to your leg, and a knife on your ankle — but even with those, you were out numbered and out gunned.
when they approached, you put on your brightest smile. “hello, gentlemen — anything i can interest you in?”
“gentlemen?” one, in the back, chortled.
the one in front smirked, swishing the joke in his mouth a little bit. he seemed to contemplate his response for a moment, and you fought the urge to narrow your eyes at them. you could feel the heat of billy’s gaze on the side of the man’s face. finally, the man spoke, “what my… associate means to say, miss... is that we’ve never been called ‘gentlemen’ by such a fine lady.”
you smiled politely. dismissing his words, you asked, “and what can i get for you?”
the man shoved his thumbs into the extra space in his belt, puffing out his chest. his cheeks were rosy — probably from the sun. you weren't sure what he did for work, and you figured it was best not to find out. a man who spent most of their days outside either worked the land or stole from someone else’s. you didn’t want to judge, and didn’t — but they didn’t look as harmless as billy or his gang.
“i was actually wonderin’, beautiful, how you managed to tie ‘ol billy the kid down,” he grunted. “in my day, the kid’s not loyal to nothin’.”
“insulting my husband will not get you drinks on the house, sir,” you stated.
“oh — you think we can’t pay?” he scoffed, his eyes widening. “do my ears deceive me, boys?”
“what’s a lady supposed to believe when you throw a cheap shot in front of her?” you asked before his associates could respond. “you’d be smart to mind the character you give off to the woman who controls the whisky pour, sir.”
his eyes narrowed, but his smirk didn’t waver. “i guess i should mind because my boys and i decided we would make this a regular spot of ours. whisky. five glasses.”
you pulled five glasses and grabbed the bottle from under the counter. lining them up, you began to pour. your gaze never left the man’s as you poured a single shot in each.
like billy said once — they had to respect you, before they respected him.
you pushed the glasses towards the man, and he laid a few bills down on the counter. each man took their glass and began to walk away. before the man you were staring down walked away, he turned to billy, and spoke, “we’ll be seein’ you around, old friend.”
billy didn’t respond. he just glared at him until he sat down.
their departure didn’t not quell any anxiety. having billy there was a blessing when there was one man making a fuss — but five? five who had a problem with billy?
you immediately dipped down under the counter so they couldn’t see you speak to billy.
loud enough, so only he could hear, you asked, “you know him?”
“know 'em enough.”
your teeth sank into your lip. “you want me to fetch jesse? should i get one of the boys in the back?”
“no, darlin’,” he spoke. “i told you — don’t worry about a thing.”
“i don’t appreciate being kept in the dark, billy,” you spoke. “i’m not asking to know everything — but at least let jesse know if you think it’s the right thing to do. you sitting there and not doing anything doesn’t make me believe it’s not a problem — it makes me think you’re only here to make me safe, when it sounds like this is going to get bigger than me.”
“i told you it would be fine,” his answer was quick and flat, dismissive.
“alright,” you sighed. “i trust you.”
you stood up then, averting your attention to a rag and glass in your hands that hopefully gave off the impression that you weren’t trying to secretly talk to billy. you stepped away from billy to stock bottles, attempting to clear your head. you didn’t necessarily blame billy — but you didn’t know how to feel. you didn’t have a problem with who he was or what he did — but you did have a problem with him not being able to handle similar situations as a team. a unit. sure — men would never be as scared of you initially as they are with billy, but you weren’t useless or defenseless.
you knew billy didn’t think of you like that, no. you were more so worried that he didn’t want to share the burden with you.
he should never feel shame. never. not ever.
you walked back over to him then, wiping down the counter. you didn’t raise your eyes, but lowly, you spoke, “i hope you know this, but in case you don’t — i’m proud to be your wife, billy.”
he was mid sip when you said that, which stalled a response from him, so you took another chance. maybe you should have, maybe you shouldn’t have…
but you did anyway.
“and i feel lucky to be with a man who would protect me,” you stated. “that i feel protected by.”
billy didn’t answer — but you weren’t as strong as you were by prying. billy could read you like a book and you hoped that the message was loud and clear: support. he had your support. you didn’t look up at him, didn’t mention it again, and didn’t try to get his attention…
he’d let you know if you needed to know something.
you had to trust him with that.
it would be a little while before the men at the table left. it was approaching close — and you were scared that they would never leave. you tried to keep your gaze off of them, and thankfully you never met their eyes if they had been looking over when you were. unfortunately, it appeared that they had been looking over — because billy was growing tenser by the moment.
“i could kick them out,” you whispered, keeping your head down.
“you’d do that to polite, paying customers, darlin’?” he asked sarcastically, shaking his drink around.
you fought back a smile. “i’m going to let them know about last call. hopefully they take the hint.”
you grabbed a bottle of liquor and ventured over to the men at the table. you kept your gaze trained absentmindedly ahead of you, but not on any of them in particular. when you approached, you had found most of their eyes already on you.
“just coming over to let you gentlemen know that we will be closing soon,” you stated. “can i top anyone off before that?”
“you can top me, sweetheart,” one of them chortled.
“mason, enough,” the man from before barked. “why, yes… that would be very kind of you. we’ll be on our way afterwards.”
you brushed off mason’s comment and began filling their glasses. they each immediately slammed it back, pulled out a few bills, and handed them to you. for whatever reason — they complied. politeness in their demeanors, they stood up and even pushed their chairs in before they left.
the main one, from before — you hadn’t caught his name, threw over his shoulder as he left, “be seein’ you soon, kid.”
from the way billy glared at the door… you knew he took that personal.
a little while later, you were both changing for bed. billy was moving with a sort of frustration in each of his movements. he was quiet, and quietly fuming. there was a deep set in his brow — alerting you that so many thoughts were behind those pretty eyes of his.
“do you want me to trim your hair?” you softly asked. “looks handsome — but looks long enough to get into your eyes soon.”
he didn’t look at you as his teeth sank into his lip. “yes, um… that’d be nice.”
you grabbed shears before gesturing him to sit down.
“i think those men were so rude because they were jealous of your hair,” you mused. “don’t think they’ve seen their own in the mirror for years.”
a corner of his lips raised slightly, but lowered almost immediately. you began to trim around his head, keeping most the length full but not long enough to touch his neck. even if it was impractical for what he needed — you loved the little curls by his hairline.
“they were jealous that i have such a beautiful wife,” he spoke.
“you are something else, mr. bonney…” you trailed off, brushing the stray hairs off of billy and turning to put the shears away.
that was when you felt the slightest touch on your palm, and then you felt fingers weave through yours. you turned to find billy’s blue eyes holding yours. you admired that about billy — even in stressful situations, he was not shy.
you smiled at him, and brought his hand up to your lips. you kissed the back of it, hoping he knew how much love you had for him. after, you climbed into his lap — sitting face to face with him.
“they’re a rival gang,” he spoke, then swallowed thickly. “while we found mostly honest work — they didn’t. we’ve caught them stealing from our employer a few times. nothing we can’t handle, but they’re starting to take it personal.”
you were stunned he even told you. he didn’t keep secrets — but since you two had only been wed for a short time, this was the first real threat that had come at you both. you watched as his jaw tightened a few times, and you were unsure of what it meant.
“is this…” you began. “is this the first time they’ve approached any of you in public?”
he nodded. “i’ll make sure they stay away.”
you raised an eyebrow. “...because of me.”
he didn’t answer. “if this is business, you take care of it like regular ‘ol’ business. you let me get in the way — might not end as well as you think it might.”
his eyes were accusatory. “you think i can’t do both? that i can’t protect you?”
“didn’t say that,” you said softly. “i’m just saying… your gang is made up of a few men, and i’m just one person. i’m worried that if you worry too much about me —“
he caught you by both sides of the chin with that. his touch wasn’t hard or forceful, but sudden enough it caught your attention.
“don’t you dare ever even think that you are less important than them,” he grunted. “you’re what i’ve got in this world. you, darlin’. don’t you forget that.”
“i know,” you sighed. “you’re everything i’ve got in this world. i didn’t need a man, you saw… but i wanted you.”
his lips parted at that, and his eyes began to search yours. you had never seen anything like it; billy appearing so pure and vulnerable, almost innocent. like he was laying himself bare before you and he didn’t even realize he was.
“i’m not saying you can’t protect me,” you whispered. “i’m just asking… please, let me do what i can do to protect you, too.”
he didn’t respond. his hand found the back of your neck, and you both leaned your foreheads together. the bridge of your noses touched — which felt odd, but you found your heart swelling at the feeling. billy’s thumb was rubbing against the back of your neck, finding its way to tangle within the hairs.
“i never wanted you brought into something like this,” he admitted. “it’s my —“
“william bonney, don’t ever say something so untrue to me,” you whisper-hissed. “it’s not your fault — and you didn’t bring me into anything. there’s no fault there. however, i will fault you if you keep me at arm’s length on this. please… trust me.”
the hand on the back of your neck founds it way to your cheek where he began to stroke the skin with his thumb once more. you leaned into his touch, grateful for its warmth and comfort. you open your eyes slightly to find billy already gazing at the beauty in his lap. his baby blue eyes were a stunner to anyone and everyone, and somehow they always got the best of you.
“i’m just too selfish of a man to not give my pretty girl everything she wants,” he spoke in a raspy voice. “nothin’ could compare to how sweet those lips look when she smiles for me.”
the grin spread wide before you could help it, and you cast your eyes down to avoid the blush behind so obvious. billy bent his head down, trying to catch your gaze once more before you became too shy.
“oh, no, sweetheart — can’t take from me what i earned,” he coaxed. his thumb found the plumpest part of your bottom lip, and slightly pulled it down into a pout. “prettiest lips i’ve ever seen in the west.”
your lips encircled around the tip of his thumb and lightly sucked in the tip. your hair fell down around your shoulders and curled around your forward as the temperature in the room began to increase. you watched as billy’s eyes flicked back and forth between your beautiful eyes, and how your lips sucked him in.
“goin’ show me what those pretty lips can do f’me?” he asked, lips parted.
you nodded then, sliding off his lap and on the floor. the pair of you tugged on his bottoms and let them pool around his ankles. upright on your knees, billy gathered all of your hair on the crown of your and looked down at you proudly.
“such a good girl f’me,” he rasped, barely above a whisper. “let me see those pretty lips work.”
with a blush on your cheeks, you leaned forward towards his hips. your hand wrapped around the base of his thick cock as your soft lips tucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. billy could’ve screamed at how good it felt in there — warm, wet, and wild. filled his veins with whisky and sunshine and tobacco all at the same time and he didn’t know what to do with himself. bobbing your head slowly, taking more and more of him in, you watched the stress leave his body. billy’s eyes drifted closed as his lips remained parted. the tension in his shoulders had disappeared, leaving only a man with his head thrown back against the back of the chair.
“that’s it,” he spoke. “that’s my girl.”
words like that… oh, words like that… they could turn even a saint like you into a slut. mixed with the sultriness in his voice — the whining, the wanting, the needing — you didn’t know if you wanted him to cum or not. if he came, he’d feel better, sure — but to deny yourself this picture? the scene of your man, your lethal man, succumbing to even the smallest of touches? praising you? guiding you? there was nothing better, nor purer in the world to you than to be before him, on your knees, as his wife. the sight alone was enough to make you take him deeper.
“that’s right, baby — little bit more. show me what you can do,” he grunted. “makin’ me so proud. ah, fuck…”
his reactions were like treats — and who were you to deny yourself of something your husband was so willingly giving? he was melting in your hands before you, and there was nothing more you wanted than to make him feel good. spit ran down your puffy lips, your cheeks, and along your jaw. the feeling of the trail sent all of your senses on fire until the only thing you saw, touched, smelled, felt was billy. one of his heavy hands came to rest on the back of your head, guiding your bobbing motions.
“got me weak, darlin’.” his breathing was heavy, almost spent. “want you on the bed. need to fuck my good girl sweet and proper.”
you reluctantly retreated from him and stood up, huffing. he immediately caught wind of your disheartened expression as his brow furrowed.
“what’s the matter?”
you let your nightgown fall to the floor as you stood in front of billy, bare for only him to see. billy was shameless as his eyes raked up and down all of your delicious, beautiful curves that were only illuminated by candlelight. you weren't backing down, however, no — you stepped forward, leaving very little space between you. you could feel the tips of your perky nipples grazing against his cool skin and shock went up and down your body. with big, unrelenting eyes — you glared up at him.
“finally get my husband to relax and i get stopped when i’m being nice.” you were smiling, being coy — but there was an edge of truth to your voice.
he smiled knowingly, not missing a beat at your discontent. “i’ll show you nice, darlin’.”
he pushed you back against the bed and immediately crawled between your thighs. it was so hard to stay mad at billy when the warmth from his own body would spread up and down yours, bonding the both of you. he pushed your thighs back against your torso, hooking the backs of your knees in his elbows.
“think i’d waste a drop when those men were starin’ at my wife, today? my girl?” his long, thick fingers began playing with your folds. your breath hitched at the feeling, an immediate gush of slick collecting on the tips of his fingers. he swirled around your clit, pulling you into him and his attention. “almost fuckin' killed them, every last one. i’ll get you so round and full — no man will dare flirt with my girl ever again.”
your breaths were light and needy as his words drifted through the air, your eyes fluttering closed. talk of kids surprised you, but not the sentiment. being so free and wild to talk of such things drew a certain excitement out of you that you didn't know existed. your senses were on fire, and now they were focused on having his cock pump you full of him. his lips were by your ear, nibbling on the lobe — and it sent you fucking mad. “yes, billy, please — want your baby so bad.”
“that's right, sweetheart,” he groaned. “need my cock inside you now —“
billy immediately retreated his hands to grab his cock and stuff it inside of you. the preparation was only slight — making there be more friction than ease. you gasped at the slight pain, but immediately fell into billy’s kisses as his lips drew shapes on your cheek and jaw.
“take me just like that, darlin’,” he grunted. “always so good to me. so proud —“
every inch was something billy held over your held. its teasing and taunting were persistent at your entrance, prying at your mind and your bottom lip. he pulled in and out, shoving another inch in with every thrust. you were at his mercy, tucked below him. he had every ounce of your trust and you had every ounce of his — and you couldn't think of anything better than the most dangerous man in the west turning you into a fucking mess.
“you’re so deep, billy,” you whined. “never — felt so good —“
“mind already going soft on me, huh, sweetheart?” he spoke, rocking his hips back and forth. you could feel your pussy stretching around him, wave after wave of arousal coating his cock and sucking him in deeper. it craved him. it throbbed for him. it pulled him in until there was nothing left of him to give. with his balls sitting heavy at the bottom of your entrance, you let out a cry. billy could only laugh darkly in your ear before saying, “pussy wants me so bad — just beggin’ me to breed it. can't be mean now, can i?"
you threw your head back against the bed, neck stretching with it. your teeth dug into your bottom lip as your eyes screwed shut. your entire lower body was on fire with each of billy’s thrusts. the depth and strength of his hips caused his cock to bury itself inside you, threatening to never leave. it was pure, it was passionate — but it wasn’t enough. there was an itch and it needed to be scratched. you should've maybe asked, maybe you should've been embarrassed to want something so dirty, so naughty, so unladylike — but you didn't care. you couldn't care — so you tried something.
you grabbed the wrist he wasn’t using for balance, and brought it up to the upper half of your body. his thrusts didn’t stop, but he watched you warily — waiting for a sign to stop.
but one never came. you let his fingers ghost around the circumference of your throat, letting them rest there. when they didn’t immediately squeeze, you tightened them around your own throat. billy could feel the build of a moan in your vocal chords, and it sent of a shock of arousal right to his cock. his eyes went wide with shock, then dark with lust.
“dirty — fuckin’ —“
he immediately got the hint.
he squeezed the sides of your throat just enough, and held you down. your whines were pathetic — incoherent, pitiful, and downright crazy. the head of his cock was hitting some of the most sensitive parts buried deep inside you that only he could find — and the room was spinning. pictures on the wall, furniture, lamps — things before you all going hazy and doubling in quantity as the pleasure drove you up a fucking wall. he claimed every bit of your body, having you bent in the most vulnerable position you had ever been in and you gave in. you gave in to every push, pull, thrust — anything he offered. he was yours, and you were his, and there was nothing stopping the bond between you two. you let out a dirty, needful whine at the feeling of his claim around your throat and melted underneath his control.
“that’s how it’s goin’ be, huh, girl?” he spat against your cheek. “thought my wife was the sweetest — but she didn’t tell me she likes it dirty. can you cum like this, sweetheart? fucked like a whore, hand around your throat, from a wanted man?”
you could only nod pathetically. you were clinging to him for dear life, pushing off your orgasm for as long as possible. “just like that, billy. please — don’t stop. i’m so, so close…”
“can see those stars behind your eyes already,” he quipped, nipping at your neck. “my poor girl wants to cum so bad…”
you were nodding though your tears, trying your best to choke out words, sentences, pleas, anything — but nothing could encapsulate how billy had control over every inch of your body. every nerve ending stood at attention for the man before you, ready to give him anything he wanted.
“please, billy,” you sobbed through gritted teeth. “i want a baby. i want your baby!”
“gonna breed this pussy, fuck — !” his free hand immediately came down in between where your hips connected and began drawing the roughest circles on your clit. the friction should’ve hurt, but with your mind being so consumed in passion and lust — it filled every want and need. your body rose for him, keened for him, fucking sang for him — and it set him off. the animalistic side of man showed itself through the dark pupils of billy's eyes as lust began to cloud his mind. “that’s it, doll — everything i give you. jus’ like a good girl — take it all.”
your hands immediately left his body and slammed down onto the bed, grasping at the sheets. your hips then spasmed as your chest then fought against billy as it tried to raise off the bed — but billy held you down. as you sobbed, cried, whined — billy held you and supported you through it all as he swallowed every emotion you gave him. you were almost screaming — from the pleasure, from the intensity, from the overstimulation, but billy didn’t stop. he kept working your pathetic, puffy clit with his rough hand around your throat, speaking dirty and sweet nothings into your ear before he filled your pussy to the fucking brim.
his moans in your ear were strained as the veins in his balls tightened. his hips shot forward once, twice — before he slammed into you once more and held his hips there. rope after rope after rope of hot, sticky, white cum painted and melted into your gummy walls. all of billy’s muscles were pulled tight and taut as he fucked his cum inside of your sopping wet pussy.
“i’m so mean to this pussy, but she just can’t stop cummin’, can she?” he spat, grip still on your throat. “love when your walls throb around me… holding me in…”
billy only then pulled his hand away from your raw clit. you were shivering from the stimulation, already falling victim to the haze of an orgasm and exhaustion. with his hand still around your throat, he pressed a fat, wet kiss to the side of your face.
“can’t wait to make you a mama," he whispered. "but i like the process."
---
lmk what u think :) love u guys xo
-L
#billy the kid#billy the kid 2022#billy the kid smut#billy the kid x reader#tom blyth#kid antrim#william bonney#billy the kid imagine#billy the kid fic#billy the kid x you#billy the kid fanfiction#william h bonney
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Queen of what now? (Mary Earps x reader)
A/N: I’m sorry this took so long. I hope you guys like it! Also, I’m going through a big Mary Earps phase right now so this was very fun to right.
Were you there to support friends, accompany a team mate or to see someone who has been on your mind for the last 104 days? You knew it was the latter but if someone one were to ask you would say a mixture of the first and second.
“I can’t believe you came with me. You have to be back in Barcelona tomorrow” Jana asks as you leave the hotel.
What she said was true. You picked up a calf injury during the El Classico which made you unavailable for the international break. It did mean that you could go to England but only for the night.
“It’s Wembley and I’m here to support Keira and Lucy” was it a lie? No. Was it the whole truth? Absolutely not.
“If that’s true why aren’t you wearing one of their shirts?”
The shirt you chose to wear, the England one, wasn’t on show but Jana saw you put it on before leaving the hotel. Now she was digging but you didn’t bite.
“Because I didn’t swap shirts with them”
Your answer seems to please the young defender because she didn’t continue her interrogation. Instead the conversation steered towards the game and how it would end. Jana, here to support Jill, favourited the Dutch but you knew the difference a home crowd could make and when you put those fans in Wembley stadium, England become a different team. You also have the upmost faith in the woman between the sticks, the same one that would captain the team.
You walk down Wembley way, taking in the atmosphere and stopping for as many fans as you can.
“You quite popular for someone who beat England in the final” Jana remarks.
“I’m still not used to it and I can’t say I’m a big fan of the attention”
Your performance throughout the season with Barcelona and during the summer at the World Cup earned you the most coveted trophy in football: The Balón d’Or. Since then you had been exposed to a spotlight, one which wasn’t always welcome.
It was cold in England, in fact to your Spanish blood it was freezing. The moment you entered the stadium you got a hot chocolate and went to your seat. When Mary joked about you coming to game she told you that she would put some tickets aside for the family section but when Leah saw that you were at Wembley she invited you to watch the game from one of the boxes with her and Millie.
You didn’t really know the defender well but you appreciated the invite. The first half was less than great so not a lot was said. You could tell the two blondes were getting stressed but Jana was loving it.
The moment the ball crossed the line for the second goal you knew Mary would punish herself for it.
“Mantén la calma” you wish she could hear you.
“Oh Mary, keep your head up” Leah says from beside you.
“She will blame herself” you add.
“She is. I know that because she’s my team mate. How exactly do you know what she’s thinking?”
“A guess”
The look the Arsenal player gives you lets you know she doesn’t believe you but the whistle is blown for half time before she can question you further.
The people is the room seem to split up for the half time break. You stick with Jana who is obviously having more fun than the rest of the box.
“Dial down the celebrations J, we are in an England box” you whisper to her during half time.
“Jill’s winning though” Jana says innocently.
“Maybe save your celebrations until after the game when you are with her” you raise your eyebrows playfully.
“Fine” she agrees to keep her cheering to a minimum not that it makes a difference because the second half is in England’s favour.
You can’t believe what you are seeing. First Georgia Stanway scores then Lauren Hemp scores two minutes later. As a football fan you were taking it all in. 71,000 people were on their feet as they celebrate the possibly of a come back.
When Ella Toone scores in the 91st minute you can feel the stadium shaking. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
The whistle blows and you see the blonde beside you breathe a sigh of relief.
“That was quite the performance by your team Leah” it was a compliment but in a professional way.
“It was. I take it you are here to see Lucy and Keira?” Leah asks.
“No, ella no es” Jana says from your side.
“Cállate” you shake your head whilst being thankful that Leah didn’t speak Spanish.
“The girls, as well as some of the Dutch team,” Leah looks at Jana as she says that part “are going to a bar called Three Lions. I’m not sure if you have plans but I will let the security know to expect you”
“Gracias Leah. I have something I need to do but I’ll come”
“Me too” Jana also accepts the invite before turning to you once Leah has gone “Jill already invited me. What do you have to do? Nobody knows you are in London”
“Somebody does and I want to see her before anyone else. If anyone asks just tell them I had a call”
And that is what is what Jana does. By the time everyone arrived to the Three Lions bar news has spread that you attended the game. You, as planned, texted a certain goalkeeper and asked her to meet you at a different part of the stadium. Her reply wasn’t words, it was a thumbs up to your message.
The way she walked towards you told you everything you needed to know. Her gaze was on the floor with her shoulders hunched.
Much to your surprise Mary is the first to talk.
“I can’t believe you came” she stands less than a meter in front of you but doesn’t move closer. You may have been talking every day but you hadn’t seen her in person since the final and you desperately wanted to hug her.
“You asked me to”
“I did but you weren’t sat in the seats I sent you tickets for and you’re injured so I thought that maybe you had to stay in Barcelona”
“People saw me and it became a bit much so Leah invited me to watch the game with her in the box”
“Does she know —“
“No. She assumed I was here to watch Lucy and Keira. I didn’t correct her”
Here’s the thing. Nobody knew about you and Mary. The reason why things were so good between you was because there was no pressure to label it, no interference from your friends and no need to force anything.
You saw the way her face dropped and you knew her well enough to know the reason why.
“I’m wearing your shirt” you un tie your coat and pull your hoodie down revealing the green England shirt “they may think I’m here for my team mates but I’m here for you Mary”
“You picked a bad game to come and watch”
“Mary—“
“Don’t. Don’t tell me it wasn’t my fault”
“I wasn’t going to. I know better than to tell someone how to feel after a game” you grab her hand a pull her towards some seating where you pull her down next to you “What I was going to say is that moments like that are a tough pill to swallow but it was a mistake and the best players in the world make them”
“I let the team and the fans down. I let my family and you down”
You hated seeing Mary this distraught. She was normally so full of energy and confident. This wasn’t a side you were familiar with.
“You didn’t. There are people in that room over there” you point the bar behind you “that are proud of you and as for me, well you could never let me down Mary. I swear to you”
Mary couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face. In a moment when she was down, you managed to lift her up. When she feels you reassuringly rub her thigh she leans onto your shoulder.
“You’re quite a big deal here Mary. I saw young girls wearing your shirt and many people wearing scarfs with your face on. I didn’t know you had a nickname” you took a pause as you try to remember what the green scarfs said.
Mary sees you struggling to remember the fan given nickname so she helps you out.
“Mary Queen of stops” her mumble is barely audible.
“Queen of what?” You didn’t hear her.
“Stops. The fans call me Mary Queen of stops”
You only hum in response. Maybe you knew what the fans called her but she needed to hear it too. If for no other reason than to reinstate some confidence.
When Mary stands she holds her hands out to help you up. You walk side by side but she stops before you get the door, far enough that you both are still out of side but close enough that her nerves are building.
“Will you take this off?” The keeper tugged at the drawstring on your hoodie.
“But it’s cold, no?”
Mary felt ridiculous for suggesting it yet she didn’t want to give you her reason. As embarrassment flushed her cheeks, Mary’s gaze found every part of the room that wasn’t your face.
“It’s stupid, forget I said anything”
She doesn’t wait for you to respond and instead walks towards the bar. She assumes that you are right behind her but it is only when she opens the door for you does she realise that you haven’t moved.
“Y/N”
“Mary” with you stood rooted in place it leaves mary with no option other than to return to where she was mere seconds ago “Are you cold? Is that why you want me to take it off. Here, you can have it” without further question you give Mary the hoodie.
“I’m not cold. I want them to see you in my shirt. I want them to know that you came here to support me and that you still do”
“They will have questions”
“Let them ask, It doesn’t mean we have to answer them” Once again Mary leads you to the door put again she stops “Can I wear this?” She holds up your hoodie that she is still carrying.
You nod your head and the smile that appears on her face must be infectious because you are soon grinning ear to ear.
When you enter the bar you try your hardest not to attract any attention but Mary’s absence seems to have worried her team mates and her family because she is pulled away from you.
You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t want to stand by yourself so you search for the three women who you actually know. Lucky for you the three of them are together with the addition of Jill, Beth and Viv.
“Nice shirt” Lucy nudges you.
“Was it a gift from our keeper or—“
“We swapped” you saw no harm and you hoped that telling the little truths might get you out of revealing the big ones.
You wasn’t really involved in the conversation taking place between the English and the Dutch. Something that Jana was quick to pick up on. You watched Mary from a distance as her parents pulled her into their arms, something you desperately wanted to do earlier.
“Go see her. It’s why you’re here” Jana detaches herself from Jill’s hip to talk to you.
“She’s with her family” you say just loud enough for the young defender to hear you. Whilst doing so you turn around so it isn’t obvious that the goalkeeper is the only person you are interested in.
“She is but she is looking at you, oh she want your attention”
Jana was telling the truth because when you turn back around Mary is calling you over. You shake your head, now wasn’t the time for her to introduce you to her parents. Mary on the other hand thought differently because before you can run away she is walking towards you, grabbing your hand and leaving you with no choice other than to follow her.
“Mary, no”
“Y/N, yes”
You suddenly felt nervous. Not necessarily for meeting her mum and dad but to find out how she would introduce you. It wasn’t a conversation you have had yet and you weren’t ready to hear that she didn’t feel the same way as you or even worse she felt nothing at all.
“Mum, dad. This is Y/N, she is—“
“The woman that you won’t shut up about”
Mary cheeks flushed red but she didn’t deny it, in fact she confirmed it.
“It is, she is. She is also the reason why I was late”
Her parent give you both a look, one which isn’t warranted. It does let you both know that they think something else happened and that is the reason for you both arriving later than everyone else.
“We were talking” you were quick to correct their thoughts.
“She calmed me down” Mary slightly squeezes your hand as a thank you.
“Well Y/N, we know how hard on herself Mary is so thank you being there. As her parents it makes us very happy to know that she does let someone in and listens to them”
The woman in question simply listens to what her parents were telling you. Is that really what she had done? Had she let you in without realising?
“She is a good person and she needs to learn that she cannot blame herself for what happens on the pitch” at this point you turn to Mary “We play a team sport. Win or lose, we do it as a team. She isn’t alone”
You mean ever word you said. You spoke as a player who knew what Mary was feeling but the last part you said sincerely. As long as Mary wanted you around then she wouldn’t be alone, ever.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Mary asks.
“Porfa”
You say goodbye to her parents and go to the emptiest spot at the bar.
“I just met your parents” you cannot help but laugh a little.
“Was that ok? They wanted to meet you after I told them about you”
“What did you tell them?” You take a look around. You were surrounded by people, maybe a more private setting was best for the ‘what are we’ talk.
“That I met a girl in Australia. When I was at my lowest she showed up and got me to smile through my tears. Every day I look forward to talking to her, I wait for her texts and our FaceTimes are the best part of my day”
You looked at Mary with a foreign feeling in your gut. You could compare it to butterflies but that didn’t seem like justice. When she moves forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear you don’t flinch. In fact you welcome to closeness.
“Carino, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to kiss you now” Mary’s tone is confident but the look on her face didn’t convey the same confidence.
“I won’t stop you but look around. People are —” The woman standing opposite knew exactly what you were going to say but she didn’t care. Her focus was on one thing; you.
Everything with Mary has been new but the way she kissed you felt familiar, as if this wasn’t your first kiss. Your body was screaming for you to deepen the kiss, to strengthen the connection but you knew you would have to wait. Mary obviously faces the same conflict only she has given in to her desires. You have to push her away when you felt her tongue on your lips.
“Mary, we can’t do this here”
“But I want to”
She leans back in for more but only gets a peck on the lips.
“Cálmate”
Mary felt frustrated but she really couldn’t complain. She had been dreaming of kissing you for months now and every scenario she came up failed in comparison to the real thing.
“Will you come back to the hotel tonight? We don’t have to share a room. You can stay with Keira or Lucy”
“I have a very early flight in the morning Mary” you wished you could stay but you needed to go home and you could not miss your flight.
“I know but please, I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet”
“I don’t want to either but I can’t” Mary’s head dipped in disappointment and it wasn’t a sight that you liked “Maybe I could spend a few hours there and then go back to my hotel”
“You have yourself a deal” Mary was happy to compromise.
Later on you went back to the hotel where the England team was staying. As imagined you were subject to a lengthy interrogation by her team mates. You answered most questions and then played the ‘I don’t understand the English’ card when you didn’t want to answer certain ones. You barely left Mary’s side the entire night which only made your departure worse. She was adamant on walking you to your car and you didn’t fight her on it.
“Thank you for coming tonight” Mary says as she opens your door for you.
“I had fun” you absentmindedly run your finger of your lips as you mind wanders to the multiple kisses you and Mary had throughout the night “I have come to London, now it’s your turn to come Barcelona”
It wasn’t a bad deal. The sun was shining in Barcelona, whereas it hasn’t been seen for days in London.
“I’ll be there as soon as my schedule allows it” Mary hated that she couldn’t just hop on a plane and come see you.
This was the hard part. You and Mary could find time to text, call and FaceTime but in person visits were difficult due to your schedule and the year the two of you had. You were only able to visit because of your injury and as much as you knew you would miss Mary, you didn’t want her schedule to become clear for the same reason.
“Until then we will make it work. We have done so far and look where it has lead us”
“I certainly didn’t think my night would end with me kissing you”
“It hasn’t”
Mary leaned forward and quickly stole a kiss.
“It has now”
You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics.
“I need to go now”
“I know. Call me when you get back to your hotel”
Once in the car, Mary watches you drive away. There is a pain in her chest as she already misses your company. You do end up FaceTiming her that night although it is different now. Seeing her face on the screen was nice but it didn’t compare to being with her in person. Still, you enjoyed your night with her and on the other end of the line Mary was already planning her trip to Barcelona. If the two of you have learnt one thing that night it was that you both wanted each other and you were willing to do whatever it takes to make it work.
#Mary Earps x reader#Mary Earps one shot#Mary Earps imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso imagine#engwnt x reader#engwnt one shot#engwnt imagine#muwfc x reader#muwfc one shot#muwfc imagine
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Soaked .𖥔 ݁ ˖
Wyll x fem Tav — fluff, Explicit 18+
Summary: Tav's tent is leaking from the heavy rain, leaving her completely soaked, and well - she has to share a tent with someone.
Notes: absolutely nobody asked for this. BUT! I've never read a Wyll fic and I wanted to change that for myself and maybe for some of you ;p Heavy Petting!!
Shit! Tav groggily opened her eyes, only to see the sight of her drenched tent. The rain had seeped through the flimsy fabric, leaving everything inside completely soaked. She let out a frustrated groan, cursing her laziness for not setting up her tent properly earlier that day.
The once comfortable bedroll of blankets and pillows was now a soggy mess, and Tav knew she would be shivering in her damp sleeping bag.
How could she be so careless? She puffed her cheeks out, where the hells is she going to sleep tonight? It was down pouring and Tav needed to get to somewhere dry so she wouldn't get sick.
"Damn it!" She stepped out of the tent, shielding her eyes from the rain. It beaded down on her skin like bullets.
Breathless and drenched, she burst into Wyll's tent, startling him from his sleep. His eyes widened in surprise as he sat up, trying to make sense of the sudden intrusion. But as he recognized her, he relaxed and a small smile crept onto his face, "Tav?"
"What brings you to my humble abode at this ungodly hour?" he rubbed his eyes with a small yawn.
Tav sighed as she pushed back the wet strands of hair that were sticking to her forehead. She half smiled for awkwardly bursting into his tent. "Looks like my tent couldn't handle the rain," She joked shallowly, "and now everything inside is pretty much ruined."
Leave it to Tav to have the worst luck when it comes to camping.
"Do you mind if I bunk with you for the night?" The rain beat against the ground with such force, that it was almost intimidating.
Wyll's tired eyes scanned Tav up and down. Exhaustion and concern were etched across his face as he quickly rummaged through the corner of his tent. Without hesitation, he grabbed one of his own shirts and tossed it towards Tav.
"Here, take this," he said with a hint of urgency in his voice. "I can't have you getting sick in those wet clothes." Wyll's protective nature kicked in.
Tav's fingers tightly gripped the shirt, her eyes fixed on Wyll's stunned expression. It was almost comical how his mouth formed a perfect 'o' shape as the realization dawned on him. "Oh!" In a split second, he spun around, giving Tav a chance to change in privacy.
Tav chuckled at Wyll's reaction. She always found his dramatic responses amusing. But now, as she stood there clutching the shirt, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness. After all, Wyll was someone she thought attractive.
Even in this sorry state, Tav still managed to look pretty damn cute. He couldn't believe she was in his tent, wearing his shirt and changing right behind him.
"Okay, I'm done," she announced, tapping on Wyll's shoulder. He couldn't help but admire her, even in this awkward situation. The way the shirt hung off her curves that stopped at her mid-thighs was quite the sight.
"Sorry about that," Tav said, biting her lip as she tried to contain her awkwardness. "Thanks for letting me borrow your shirt. It's much appreciated." Tav slowly sank onto the floor, trying to get comfortable.
"Wait -" Wyll spoke out instantly.
"Hm?'
He squinted his eyes toward the floor. “Where’s your bedroll?”
Tav scuffed sarcastically, “Soaked.”
Sure, this wasn't the most comfortable situation for her, but it was dry and warm. But this was not good enough for Wyll, he would never let a lady sleep on the floor.
"That's not happening." He sighed and shook his head. Wyll lifted up the covers to his bedding, nudging his head at Tav, "Climb in."
Tav signed in relief, quickly hopping into the bed with Wyll. Her skin lit up with a tingling sensation from the unexpected contact of his skin. It was a bit nerve-wracking, to be this close to him, but she couldn't deny the butterflies that bubbled up inside her.
Just as Tav climbed in Wyll's horn accidentally got caught in her hair. He tried to pull away when he noticed. In a panic, he tugged harder, which only made Tav wince in pain.
"Ouch!" Tav winced, her hand going to her hair as she felt the sudden tug. But before she could even say anything, Wyll was already apologizing profusely.
"S-Sorry!" Wyll stammered. And in that moment, he noticed how close their faces were, their breaths hitting each other in the air.
Tav blushed, She quickly peeled off the strands from Wyll's horn, trying to untangle them as gently as possible. "You're okay, Wyll," she reassured him, "I'm sorry for this nest on my head right now."
Once untangled, Tav squished against Wyll. They both laid silently, trying to shake off their racing hearts. How in the hells were they supposed to sleep now when all they could think about was how closely their skin was touching right now.
"I think you look lovely." Wyll suddenly spoke into the air as he laid on his back.
Tav tilted her head towards him, "Huh?" Her face felt hot for a second, "Oh! You're talking about before..." She felt shy and chuckled amusingly, "Thank you, Wyll..."
He nodded his head in contempt. But Tav spoke up too, "You look good too...I don't think I've ever seen you look bad though when I think about it."
Wyll twisted his body to face Tav, his eyebrow slowly arched upwards "Even with these hideous horns and eyes?" He seemed skeptical.
"Yeah, I never thought of you ugly." Tav was being honest with him and it felt - nice.
Wyll's soft smile twisted into a scowl. "What’s wrong?" Tav asked with concern.
"Zariel. I could hear her in my head." He closed his eyes tightly, and let out a frustrated sigh before responding, "And you'd think she'd be off doing something better than to tease me."
"What is she teasing you about..?"
Wyll's eyes crinkled with a soft smile and giggle, "Ahh..That's a conversation for another day."
Tav brought herself closer to him, she gave him a playful nudge, "What? No - don't be such a buzz kill." she puffed out her cheeks like a child.
"You're too cute." Wyll's eyes softened as she looked into Tav's sincere gaze. "If you really must know, she was making comments about me looking at you."
Tav rolled her eyes sarcastically, "Pfft, why would she make fun of that?"
A smirk spread across his lips, "Well - if I was admiring your beautiful face, then it would give her lots to insult me on."
Tav felt a bit flustered by his comment, but she quickly regained her composure. With a sly smile on her face, "You obviously have good taste. You're quite the charmer, Wyll."
Tav booped his nose, "But don't worry, I won't tell the others. Your secret is safe with me."
Wyll's smirk turned into a genuine smile as he took in her boldness. "I like the way you think."
She felt a sense of pride at his reaction. Tav was used to being the one to surprise people, but it was refreshing to have someone catch her off guard in a good way. "I always speak my mind," she replied confidently.
Wyll chuckled.
Tav gently traced her fingers along his jawline, causing him to shiver in response. "Now tell me - what's really on your mind?"
"Those soft lips, and that little frame," Wyll said, his voice barely above a whisper as he pulled her closer.
Her heart beat faster with each passing second. They were already so close, and it was like an invisible string was pulling them closer and closer. Tav's eyes fluttered close until the warmth of her lips was met with his. It was gentle and soft. Pulling back slightly, she looked up at him with big eyes.
"Is that your way of saying you like what you see?" she teased, her confidence growing by the second.
He chuckled and pulled her in for another kiss, his hands gently caressing her petite frame. She melted into his touch, enjoying the grip of his large hands.
"I more than like it," Wyll replied cockily. "I'm completely captivated by you."
Tav's blood rushed to her face. Everything felt like a dream because just yesterday Wyll was just another attractive man. But now - it felt a little more complicated than that.
Wyll's hand rested on the curve of Tav's lower back. His fingers dipped into her back dimples with gentle strokes, "Even now, I can't help but want to kiss you more."
Tav's fingers traced patterns on Wyll's chest while she gazed into his eyes. Here she was, laid next to the city's righteous rich boy: The Blade of Frontiers. He surely wasn't a disappointment.
Wyll's lips met Tav's in a passionate kiss, their bodies pressed together close-knit. Tav's heart fluttered as Wyll's hand moved from her back to cup her face, deepening the kiss even more.
Their breaths mingled between kisses, and his grip became tighter and possessive. Tav's tongue graced his in a steady motion and her hands clutched the shirt of his back.
Wyll's hands roamed eagerly over Tav's body, his touch sending shivers down her spine. He seemed to put most of his attention on her ass. Wyll actually spent quite some time looking at Tav's body and her bottom was his favorite feature of hers. He filled the palms of his hands with her curves.
He kneaded and groped the pudge of her hips and ass. Tav's body responded instinctively, pressing closer to him, her own hands gripping his shoulders tightly.
With each kiss, the intensity grew, and their bodies molded together. Wyll's hand traveled, his fingers gripped Tav's thigh possessively and pulled her leg up to rest on his hip.
Their hips clashed, each movement sending sparks of pleasure through their bodies. She could feel Wyll's hard length poke at her stomach.
Tav's grip on Wyll tightened, her breath coming in small gasps as she lost herself in the moment. Every touch, every movement, was a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of each other.
As their kiss deepened, their bodies moved in perfect synchronization, lost in a dance of passion and desire. Tav's moans mingled with Wyll's, their lips never breaking contact as they explored each other.
Wyll tightly shut his eyes and let out an airy gasp, "You have no idea how much I've been wanting to do that. And now that I have, I can't get enough of you."
Tav planted a single kiss on his cheek, "I never knew how good of a kisser you were.." Her head rested on the nape of Wyll's neck. "I want to keep experiencing that if that's something you want with me?"
a smile spreading across Wyll's face. "Of course. I knew I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you."
Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!
#bg3 fluff#bg3 wyll#wyll ravengard#baldurs gate wyll#wyll x tav#wyll x reader#wyll romance#wyll x oc#wyll smut#wyll fluff#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 smut#bg3 astarion#astarion bg3
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hello!! could i order an iced honey and vanilla tea for aventurine?
“order up! i have a drink here for aventurine, an iced honey and vanilla tea!”
☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!
i. SUMMARY: sometimes, all you need is to feel loved. and, as his closest friend, he will make sure you know you are.
ii. CWS & NOTES: reader is insecure. platonic aventurine x gn!reader. hurt/comfort & fluff. 0.8k words.
iii. A/N: i was so excited to see someone rq the platonic version of this prompt! also. please know this is my first time writing aventurine and i haven't played most of the penacony questline (i have been spoiled for the entire thing though-) so if the characterization is off i am sorry.
“Why are you friends with me?”
It caught Aventurine off guard, truth be told. For a moment he could only blink, staring at them dumbly while the question fully registered in his head. After a few seconds of processing, he managed a single word: “What?”
“Why are you friends with me?” They repeated, a tinge of frustration coating their words. The question settled in his mind, but still, he was at a loss for words.
How could he possibly answer that, when the two of them had been acquainted for so long that his life and theirs seemed fully intertwined? The question only planted the seed for more to sprout in his mind as he pondered it; whys melting into hows and what ifs. He struggled to imagine a life where he’d never met them all those years ago, a life where he never found someone to dull his sharpened edges and fill some fraction of the emptiness he felt inside.
They were a match that fit too perfectly; two lonely people, who’d tasted a life without solitude and couldn’t quite bring themselves to leave it behind again.
Yet, their friendship was a double-edged sword, one seemed to cut Aventurine from both sides. It took every ounce of self-control in his body to stop himself from digging his claws in and clinging tightly enough to them to make sure they wouldn’t leave. Simultaneously, another part yearned to push them so far away that he would never be able break them like he did with every other bright thing in his life. The thought of being alone again felt suffocating, even if the back of his mind still whispered that it was only his deserved fate.
On good nights, when they were at the tables with him, he insisted they were seated right beside him—his “good luck charm,” as he put it. He chased every moment, the flash of a smile on their lips when the dice roll just right, a barely stifled laugh at his jokes. No victory could outshine the few moments of pure, untainted contentment he felt when they were by his side.
It was almost laughable that they were questioning why he’d chosen them, when he was the one who didn’t deserve someone half as incredible as they were. He should be asking why they had settled for someone cracked and missing as many pieces as he did, not the other way around.
“What about you?” He asked, in lieu of an answer. “Why are you friends with me?”
“I already asked you.” They protested. Aventurine, being the good friend he was, ignored them.
“You’ve known me long enough to be acutely aware of my flaws, and yet you still stick around. Why is that?”
“Uh…” They hesitated for a beat. “You’re not—”
“Don’t deny it. Just answer the question.”
“Well, I guess…” They draw out the first few words, thinking. Aventurine kept his face neutral, despite the pounding of his heart. “Flaws are just flaws, aren’t they? I don’t think you could find a single one here that’s without their fair share. You’re still a good person despite them, and I enjoy your company regardless.”
The back of his throat had grown dry. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to quell the wave of emotions that almost swept him off his feet, forcing them back into the furthest reaches of his mind to unpack later.
“See!” He said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Exactly my point, why would you be any different?”
“That’s not what I was saying.” They murmured, shaking their head.
“What is it then?”
“It’s just… I’m not that important, am I?” They asked, not meeting his eyes. “I mean—You have other friends, don’t you? And if you had the choice, I’m sure you’d rather hang out with them than me, wouldn’t you?”
“You want to make that a bet?” Aventurine raised an eyebrow. “Because, my dear friend, that is a gamble you will lose. For starters, who I find important isn’t up to you; it’s up to me. And me has decided you are an incredibly important friend that I value very deeply. You can stew in your self-pity as much as you want, but that won’t change how much I care about you.”
“You really mean that?” They asked, in an almost inaudible whisper.
“Of course. Can I?” He asked, opening his arms out. They looked up briefly, and gave him a small nod, so he pulled them forward against his chest. He hugged them tightly, as if they would vanish into nothing if he let go. Their hand clutched the back of his jacket, their cheek pressing against his shirt.
Neither of them were without their cracks, it seemed, but maybe that was why they had connected in the first place.
“I’m friends with you because I want to be friends with you,” Aventurine said softly. “You mean the world to me, and it kills me that you don’t realize it.”
He knew he was little more than a hollow shell, but with them, he almost felt whole. It was almost enough for him; he could only hope it would be enough for them too.
reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
#✒️ — writing#ty mhie for beta reading this!#[ interstellar teashop ☆ﾟ. ]#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#star rail x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#platonic hsr x reader#platonic honkai star rail x reader#platonic aventurine x reader
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The Eggnog Effect
Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader
Summary: You passed out on your friend's couch and wake up to find Santa Claus leaving a gift for your godchild.
WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞
Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays
For @roguesandsaviors who's love for David Harbour triggered me into trying my hand at writing smut for someone else than Jon 😁
Also on AO3
You frowned as you slowly woke up, wondering about the small tinkling sound that got you out of your slumber in the first place. Cracking one eye open, you tried to make out your immediate surroundings, but your face was smushed into a pillow. A throw pillow, to be more precise.
Ever since the birth of your godchild, your best friend and husband had started asking you to spend Christmas Eve with them. How could you say no to witnessing the kid’s eyes growing big with wonder after discovering the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree?
Usually, though, you spent the night in the guest bedroom and not on the living room couch. You berated yourself for the sore neck you were likely getting from the sleeping position and grumbling internally about the long hours spent at work today that resulted in your exhaustion when you heard that noise again.
Blinking and opening both eyes now, you glimpsed some movement to the side of the couch, where you knew the Christmas tree to be. As you twisted to your back, your eyes caught onto something red and large and…
“Oh God, I really need to leave off the eggnog next time… I’m actually seeing Santa now,” you groaned and quickly rubbed over your tired eyes.
Except that there was that tinkling again, more agitated, which made you open your eyes once more only to be met by the sight of a large man standing stock still just a few feet away from you. His wide eyes stared at you with a mix of panic and annoyance.
“Oh shit,” you breathed as realization sank in, and you understood that your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you but that there was a stranger in the house and… You opened your mouth to scream, but the man was on you in a fraction of a second. A large palm covered the entire lower half of your face and stopped you from uttering any sound, while the other hand held the man up on the armrest under your head.
“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes lifting to the entrance of the living room to check if anyone was coming, before they bore into yours.
Oddly enough, and maybe it was still the eggnog talking, you didn’t try to fight, despite the way his large frame loomed over you. You didn’t move at all, actually, as you met his gaze. The only thought going through your mind was, oh, he’s got blue eyes. You stayed in the same position for several more seconds, his eyes never leaving yours as he assessed the situation. Realizing that you weren’t going to out him, the man slowly removed his hand from you and stood. You stayed where you were, observing him curiously; the white blond curly beard and hair under an askew red and white cap, the deep red leather coat lined with white fur spanning over a wide chest and shoulders, a pair of shiny, black boots. Everything about him screamed Santa Claus, but he was also nothing like the various men playing Santa in malls and other places. Those other Santas had also never elicited such a strong response from your body, either.
“Who are you?” you breathed, mindful to keep your voice down, when really, the question should have been what are you doing here? Or, what do you want?
“Who do you think I am?” he grumbled, while you watched him glare at a small bag and rummage around in it with a frustrated expression.
Your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets when the man thrust his whole arm into the bag, and it just vanished inside, which should have been impossible given how tiny the bag was compared to his arm.
“Where the fuck is it?”
“I didn’t know that Santa swears,” you snorted at the absolutely crazy sight in front of you.
“He does when the presents aren’t where they’re fucking meant to be,” he muttered, before his face turned into a satisfied grin. “Aha.” His arm slowly came back out, followed by a large, neatly wrapped present.
You blinked in rapid succession as you took in the size of the present and the size of the bag again. Yup, something was definitely up. A bicycle, for a five-year-old or not, would never fit in that bag if something… You snorted to yourself as the word magical ran through your mind. Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. But then the man pulled out an actual scroll of parchment, which started to glow as he pulled it apart. Sitting up, you stared at the man as he scanned the contents of the scroll with a thoughtful look.
“What’s that? Your naughty and nice list?” you sniggered, while pulling your legs under you on the couch and letting your eyes drift over him appreciatively.
“Mmhm,” he replied absently, seemingly looking for something in particular.
Your eyebrows rose in surprise at his easy admittance, before you began laughing under your breath.
“Tell me, Santa. Am I on your naughty list?” You leaned your head against your palm and rested your elbow on the armrest, smirking as you drawled the word naughty.
“Nope,” he answered instantly, while your flirty expression went completely unseen since he still didn’t look at you.
You frowned curiously at his reply and tilted your head to one side before slowly getting up and approaching him. This, at least, seemed to catch his attention because his eyes snapped to you as soon as you moved. He watched you with a slight frown. Curious.
“You sure?” you grinned.
This was all absolutely crazy. There was a fucking stranger in your friends’ house, pretending to be Santa and looking damn fine in that role, yet here you were, flirting outrageously with him anyway, when flirting usually felt awkward to you. The eggnog definitely was at play here.
He chuckled and said your name. Your full name, which had you stopping dead in your tracks as you stared at him with wide eyes.
“You’ve never been on the naughty list once,” he finished with a shrug.
“How… Who…”
How could he know your name? If he were a burglar, he’d probably only know your friends’ names since they were on the mailbox. He could have looked them up and seen your name popup in your best friend’s feeds on social media, but to what end? He’d just left a goddamn bike for your godchild instead of taking something. And that bag? That wasn’t a trick.
The man sighed deeply. “Adults,” he muttered, before thinking for a second. “Do you remember what you wished for on Christmas when you were eight?”
Taken aback by the question, you frowned and thought for a second before memories hit you, and you nodded as you opened your mouth to reply. Except that he said the same thing as you did at the exact same time as you. You took in a sharp breath of surprise. How could he know that? It was far too specific to be a random guess. Only if…
“So what are you going to do when you leave? Pull a Men In Black and wipe my memory or something?” You crossed your arms with a chuckle as your brain accepted the crazy truth.
He snorted and shrugged. “Trust me, the very few people who have actually seen me have never talked about me. And if they did,” he trailed off with another meaningful shrug that clearly said, who’s gonna believe them?
You nodded faintly at his logic. He wasn’t wrong.
“I’m curious, though… What’s your actual name? Santa? Kris? Nick?” You headed to where your godchild had left the cookies and milk and picked up the plate with the cookies. You chose one for yourself and offered one to… Santa.
He took a cookie but didn’t look away from you, his head shaking in amusement a second later.
“Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you wanna know?”
You shrugged and bit off a piece of cookie, the man doing the same before he glanced down at it with an appreciative sound and nod, then looked into your expectant face again.
“You can call me whatever you want. The list is pretty long.”
“But none of them are correct,” you surmised, watching him reach for the milk glass and taking a large gulp. “How about… Daddy Christmas?”
You had to hold back your loud laugh as he sprayed his mouthful all over his front at your words. He tried to cough as silently as he could and shot you a death glare as you stood there with a satisfied grin on your face.
“Am I on the naughty list yet?”
His nostrils flared as he wiped crumbs and milk off his beard and coat before he stalked over towards you until he was in your face.
“You should be more careful with what you wish for, girl,” he growled, yet instead of feeling threatened, you felt more than turned on.
“Oh? What are you gonna do? Give me your big lump of coal?” you breathed, loving how big and tall he was.
Santa blinked at you once, twice, then burst into laughter, which had you smiling broadly.
“Gotta admit, this was a new one.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but something chimed close by, which had him checking his watch. “Fuck!”
Picking up two other cookies, he headed towards the fireplace and lifted a finger to his nose, sparks firing as he did so, but then he looked back at you.
“Nicomund,” he said softly, which had your eyes widen at the revelation of his name.
He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose.
“Merry Christmas.”
He was gone in a swish of golden sparks a second later.
One year later
Dressed in a festive pair of pajamas, you yawed widely as you looked at the clock sitting in the midst of Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece. You stretched your arms over your head and shook your head to try fending the sleepiness off.
You were back at your friends’ house and sitting on the same couch as last year. Last year, when you’d met the actual Santa Claus. You’d spent weeks doing research on the origins of Christmas, yet none of the results had been conclusive in any form. You’d guessed that people truly didn’t usually see him like he’d told you. After a while, you almost wanted to believe that the whole thing had only been a dream, coming from too much eggnog and sleep-deprivation. Except that he’d given you his name. Nicomund. You couldn’t have dreamed that up. The name had actually given you some vague results as you’d given it in. Nicomund the Red, a former viking warrior. Who was supposed to have lived over a thousand years ago. Considering what you’d witnessed, you didn’t even think it that farfetched that they could be one and the same person. The way he’d talked had clearly hinted at the fact that he’d been doing this for a very long time. He knew who you were. Even as a child. Yet, he didn’t look older than his late forties or early fifties.
As much as you enjoyed loosing yourself in fantasies in books and so on, you considered yourself as a pragmatic person in real life. You liked facts and magic, while a fun concept, had never seemed like something real. And yet… After what you’d seen…
That’s why you wanted to stay awake on Christmas Eve. Prove that you hadn’t actually dreamed everything up. And you might have also wanted to see him again, just because. It was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to go on a date the whole past year, Nicomund popping up in your head at random times. The way you’d felt attracted to him had left you reeling. He’d been in full Santa gear, yet all you’d been able to see were his blue eyes, his large frame and drawling deep voice, the combination lighting your entire body up.
Your eyes drifted to the clock again, watching the time slowly approach one in the morning. Resting your head against the couch, you closed your eyes and sighed. A very comfortable bed was waiting for you just down the hall, and your body wanted nothing more than to sink into it and sleep after the long day you’d had again. But what if you missed him? Your fingers curled around a folded up piece of paper resting on your lap. Just in case, you’d written him a note, requesting him to wake you up if you were to fall asleep. With your eyes still closed, you smirked to yourself at the few lines you’d written. Maybe you could tell him yourself later. You would open your eyes in a second. You were just resting them a bit.
Weren’t you supposed to be asleep for Santa to show up?
The next thing you heard was a loud and excited scream coming from close by, having you jerk awake in your bed… Bed? Sitting up quickly, you realized that you were lying in the guest bedroom. When had you moved there? The last thing you remembered was that you’d been sitting on the couch and fiddling with the note. The thought of the note had you looking all around yourself and the floor, yet there was nothing there. Quickly getting up and slipping into a pair of warm slippers, you almost ran to the living room to look for the note. The only thing you found was your godchild gushing about the presents sitting under the tree, your friends standing around him with broad smiles.
“Merry Christmas,” they called at nearly the same time as they saw you walk in.
Tearing your eyes away from the couch and the floor, you schooled your features into a bright smile and replied in kind, hugging the couple and then kneeling to do the same to their kid. You helped rip into the wrappings and forced yourself to focus on what was going on around you.
As the day went on, you never found the note, but you were still absolutely certain that Nicomund had been the one to get you into bed. You might have been exhausted, but you would have remembered it if you’d gotten up to go to bed on your own. Disappointment shot through you at the realization that you wouldn’t get the chance to see him again until the next year. If at all.
Later that same day, you had dinner with your family, which served to take your mind off things for several hours. It wasn’t until later that night and once you’d returned to your place well after midnight and gotten ready for bed, that you sighed dejectedly again. In your pajamas and leaning against the counter of the open kitchen that looked into the living room, you slowly sipped water from a glass when your fireplace made a sputtering noise. Frowning, you put the glass down behind you and walked into the living room, only to yelp in surprise when golden sparks appeared and formed into the shape of a man a few feet away from you.
“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide and heart racing.
Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression.
“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled.
Your mouth moved silently as your eyes slowly took in his appearance. Gone were the red coat and hat, instead he was wearing a loose, off-white colored shirt and had his hair pulled up in a messy bun, showing off more of his handsome face. The V in the shirt’s neckline revealed the beginning of circular tattoos with what appeared to be runes. All the air rushed out of your lungs at the whole sight. He definitely wasn’t Santa right now, meaning that it really wasn’t the outfit that did it for you, since you were getting even more turned on than the previous year.
“What are you doing here?” you croaked, your mind having a hard time realizing that he was standing in your living room. “Christmas is over.”
“It is, yeah… I thought you wanted to see me.” He put his bare hands into the pockets of his red pants and tilted his head at you.
Your eyebrows lifted at that. “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” you muttered, pursing your lips slightly.
“Not enough time,” he answered easily, eyeing you slowly.
“For what?” you breathed, swallowing at the way he was staring at you. The way he'd said it hinted at more than just him running behind schedule.
“I got your note,” he said instead, and pulled the neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets, scanning it lazily after unfolding it. “You got real creative.” He lifted his gaze to yours briefly, the eye contact and implications of his words having heat rushing to your face.
Biting over your bottom lip and taking strength in the knowledge that he came to find you once he’d been done with delivering presents, you grinned at him cheekily.
“You said that I was never on your naughty list, so I figured that I could get a reward for having been such a good girl over the years.”
You took a step closer to him, seeing him watching you attentively, expression unreadable.
“And that’s what you had in mind?” His eyes went back to your note. “Dear Santa, I’ve been particularly good this year. Please let me play with your Christmas ornaments and suck on your candy cane. And while Santa Claus is coming to town, I’ll be sure to show how good I can go to town on Santa Claus. And please don’t forget to stuff my Christmas stockings with your big present. Hoe, hoe, hoe, Merry Christmas.”
Hearing him read the note out loud in that husky drawl had all the heat from your face rushing down your body. You couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment at your silly wordplay, especially when you could see the corner of his mouth pulling up as he read, while his voice deepened by the end. His eyes lifted to yours once he was done, before he let them travel over your body. Slowly, taking all of you in, his blue eyes dark in the half light cast by the living room lamp. Your lips parted as soft pants left your mouth, your heart rate picking up at his intense perusal.
“May I have my Christmas present now?” you breathed after taking a step closer and leaving you only a few inches away from him.
He huffed out an amused laugh, but you didn’t miss the way he lightly leaned towards you, his large chest moving up and down faster.
“Show me how good you can be,” he rumbled, as he let go of the note, which fluttered to the floor.
As you reached for his face with one of your hands, you caught his surprised expression when your fingers gently ran along his bearded jaw and towards the back of his head to pull him towards your mouth. Considering the low sound he made as your lips met, he had nothing against kissing, he seemed more surprised by your gentle touch, that you wanted more than just something frenzied and fast. But you did want. Corny and over the top sexual Christmas wordplay aside, you really wanted the man. All of him.
Slipping your tongue along his while slightly pulling at his hair, Nicomund growled and pushed into you, his hands moving into action as they travelled around your waist and down to your ass. His beard tickled deliciously around your mouth as he kissed you back fiercely. The first physical proof of his arousal pressed against you, making your breath catch at the size you could feel. Taking a step back away from him, you quickly found his eyes as you sunk to your knees before him. Nicomund’s breath came in short pants as his dark eyes watched you lifting your hands to the fastenings of his red pants. You took your time pulling the golden buttons from their respective holes, while you could see his erection straining the fabric just below. After you were done, you tugged the pants and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Unable to keep your eyes away, you finally looked at his gorgeous cock, proudly standing away from his body, the head red and shiny with pre-come.
“As red as Rudolf’s nose,” you muttered lightly, almost to yourself, except that Nicomund heard every word.
“Fuck, you’re terrible. Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled, sounding between amused and exasperated.
Slipping out of the top half of your pajamas to reveal your breasts, you glanced up at him with a smirk.
“You really wanna stop, Daddy Christmas?” you teased, right before leaning forward to lick up a long stripe from the base to the top of his cock.
His body went rigid at the touch, while he groaned. Suddenly, one of his hands was in your hair, the fingers sliding against your scalp and moving your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. A long moan slipped free from you at the treatment, which had Nicomund grinning in satisfaction.
“You’re not really being a good girl right now, y’know. Bein’ a lil tease and all. Thought you wanted to show me how good you can be.” His voice was low and washed over you in a delicious wave, stoking your lust further.
Nodding instead of replying verbally, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue peek out in invitation. Nicomund hummed, pleased, and guided you towards his cock.
“There we go,” he rasped, as he slowly slid over your tongue, stretching your lips with his girth.
Once he was as far as you could manage without gagging, he stopped moving. His hand remained in your hair, but he neither pushed nor pulled, waiting for you to decide what to do next. You kept him like this for as long as was comfortable before you slowly drew back and gently suckled over the head, while you wrapped your fingers around him. Nicomund groaned as you angled his cock up for you to tongue and suck under the head, teasing the sensitive nerves. You took your time sucking all over him, savoring the sounds you could get out of him, your body heating whenever he cursed under his breath when you did something he particularly enjoyed.
Listening to his breaths picking up speed and feeling his hips jerking as he got closer to release, you were surprised when he gently removed you off him with the same hand as before. Lifting your head since you had expected – wanted – him to come in your mouth, you gazed at him in confusion. He reached for one of your arms and pulled you to your feet before he was kissing you hungrily. Which you didn’t mind in the slightest, as you folded your arms around his chest to answer in kind, your nipples hardening as they rubbed against the material of his shirt.
“Wanna be inside you,” he admitted roughly, talking against your mouth.
You keened in the back of your throat and nodded fervently. How could you not want that?
“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply.
“Bed?” he rasped, and it took your brain a second to get your body to move.
“Yeah, okay.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the living room and towards your bedroom.
Inside the room, Nicomund drew you back to him for a quick kiss before he bent over to pull down your pajama pants and get them off you. You clutched at his shoulders as he divested you of the clothes.
“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered, having your move instantly.
You observed him through hooded eyes and pressed your legs together at the tingle of anticipation running through your core as you watched him undress. You would have loved to do it for him, but this gave you the opportunity to let your eyes feast on him as he revealed his tattooed body, the shirt falling to the floor. He was large and strong, but with a softness around his belly that had your fingers prickling with the desire to touch. His hair was a mess of curls, in and out of the hairband holding it back. You expected him to remove the rest of his clothes and stared into his face questioningly when he didn’t, only to realize that he was already watching you. Stepping towards you and making you spread your legs for him to stand between them, Nicomund towered over you as he gazed down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Thought you might want me to keep them on. So you don’t forget who exactly is fucking you.”
Your whole body heated with lust and embarrassment alike. You wanted to open your mouth to explain that you didn’t have a Santa kink, that you’d never thought of Santa in that way, but after the jokes you’d made, you couldn’t fault him for teasing you about it. Only, you didn’t care who he was. You’d have wanted him the same way had he been the Sandman, or just a normal man as well. And to be honest, having him almost fully clothed while you were naked was also turning you on.
“Is it time for your big present, then?” You bit over your bottom lip as you stared up at him with a hopeful expression.
Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level.
“Not yet,” he hedged, and knelt between your legs. “First I gotta get a taste of your…” He thought for a second. “Cookie.”
Your eyes widened at the unexpected wordplay and what it meant. He didn’t give you the time to further react as he grabbed your hips to pull them halfway over the edge of the bed and sink between your legs. You barely had the time to catch yourself with your hands behind you on the bed at the first swipe of his tongue over your wet folds. Crying out at the hotness of his tongue combined with the soft scratching of his beard on your sensitive skin, you fought to keep your eyes open to watch him. Heat ran through you at the way he so clearly took pleasure in eating you out. He took his time doing it too, at first only giving you broad licks that didn’t hold that much strength and mostly served to wind you slowly up as his tongue became more precise. Your eyes fluttered, and you panted once he began using the tip of his tongue to run maddening circles around your exposed clit. As you were getting louder and louder the stronger the pressure of his tongue became, Nicomund suddenly stopped and, instead, focused his attention on your inner thighs, kissing and teasing his beard across your skin. Your legs quivered from the change of pace, and you wanted nothing more than to bring his head back to where it had been. He seemed content to keep torturing you, however, and you knew in that moment that you would be dealing with beard burn the next day.
“Nicomund… please?” you breathed on a whimper, gazing down at him and catching his eye as he looked up at you without stopping his ministrations.
Your expression seemed to trigger something in him because his mouth and tongue were back on your clit in the next second. You had to throw your head back at the explosive pleasure shooting through you as his lips surrounded that little bundle of nerves, and he sucked on it enthusiastically. You screamed in bliss and tangled your fingers in his hair, silently begging him to stay right there. From the way he growled, he had no intention of going anywhere anyway. He pressed his thumbs into your thighs, pushing your legs further open and pulling your folds apart as his mouth ripped more and more delirious sounds from you. As two of his fingers slowly sank into you and curled up to start fucking you, your whole body wrapped over his head, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that your legs locked against Nicomund’s shoulders.
While you were slowly coming back to yourself, Nicomund kissed his way up your mound, hip and belly, his soft touches making your body shake with more than just the aftershocks, your entire body feeling sensitized. When he reached your stomach, you cupped his head with your hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply. His beard was damp, while his lips still tasted like you, having a new shiver of desire going through you. Nicomund grunted into your mouth as he knelt up, curling one arm around your waist while the other held him up behind your back. Without ever breaking the kiss, he got to his feet and leaned over you until you were almost lying on the bed. You moved up the bed with his help, just enough for him to get his knees on the mattress and pull your legs over his thighs properly. Meanwhile, your hands took their time exploring his body, running all over his back and sides, reveling in his size and comforting weight on top of you. Your fingers encountered a few scares as they went, bringing the reminder of your research back to mind. Only fights and battles could explain the size and placements of some of them. And then there were the tattoos. Santa Claus was an ancient Viking warrior. The concept was absolutely wild, but you put the wayward thought to the side in favor of focusing on the whole man on top of you.
Nicomund lifted his head a few inches and held himself over you to look into your face. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to form at his temples, his eyes traveling between your lips and eyes. You looked at him dazedly and smiled before lifting your head, keeping your eyes open, to press your mouth against his. You repeated the action a few more times, seeing his chest rise and fall faster each time.
“Are you going to make me beg again?” you whispered, your lips grazing his.
He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw.
“Please, Santa, pour your milk all over my-”
His mouth crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up, but unable to stop you from giggling.
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growled, shifting on top of you.
“But cookies always need – oh fuck!”
This time, his method was more convincing, as he used your momentarily distraction while you teased him to line up with your entrance and push inside you in one long and powerful slide.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and threw your head back as he had you crying out with each snap of his hips, his length making you feel as full as you’d wished for. Nicomund mouthed around your jawline, grunting into your skin as he thrust into you repeatedly. Leaning your head forward again, you drew his mouth in for an open-mouthed kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, trying to give back as much as you could in your position. It seemed to be enough for him, since he slammed into you harder, groaning as you moaned even louder while your inner walls pulsed around him.
“Feel so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and high-pitched, your legs curling over his thighs as extreme pleasure unfurled inside you again.
“Fuck,” he gritted out roughly, staring down at you with burning eyes. “You gonna come for me again?”
You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!”
You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of this man on top of you, making you feel needy like never before. With his large frame, glistening with sweat and strong arms holding him up at your sides as his hips drove you higher and higher, piercing blue eyes roving over your face.
“Yeah, come on, go ahead. Been such a good girl for me. Such a good-”
His words cut off as you exploded around him at the praise, a long wail of ecstasy coming through your mouth, before you pulled his mouth back onto yours for a desperate kiss. After several more thrusts, Nicomund groaned as one of his hands shifted to your hair and formed a fist in it. He tugged at it to expose your jaw to breathe against it as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace. Still overwhelmed by your second orgasm, you let him move you the way he needed and only linked your arms tightly around his shoulders, small, pleasured whimpers leaving you. When he came, his whole body shuddered over yours, his hips jerking repeatedly as he emptied himself inside you with a long groan.
Neither of you moved as you simply rested for a few minutes, savoring the afterglow while you gently combed your fingers through his hair.
“Mmh… this was definitely worth waiting a whole year for,” you mumbled sleepily, the long day catching up to you at last.
Nicomund chuckled warmly and raised his head from where it had been resting against your shoulder. You grinned up at him and stroked your fingers along his beard before letting them trail down his shoulders, your eyes following their path, as he moved further up.
“Nicomund the Red,” you muttered quietly, swirling an index over a circular tattoo on his chest. They were all gorgeous and reached down to both of his arms.
You felt him go still under your hands and met his stunned gaze. You smiled softly, keeping up your exploration.
“I like research,” you explained with a small shrug. “Didn’t find much, really, but I couldn’t…” You looked away from his face.
“Couldn’t what?” he asked in a quiet rumble.
“You read the note, Nicomund… I didn’t start thinking about writing it only yesterday,” you hedged.
This was as much as you wanted to reveal about how often you’d thought about him this past year. Sure, you’d been attracted to him from the get go and had fun with all the wordplay, but you’d also been genuinely intrigued by him.
Nicomund didn’t say anything for a beat, but then shifted your bodies until he was slipping out of you and rolling you to your side to face him.
He cleared his throat. “Well… I was kinda wondering if you’d be at your friends’ again.”
You uttered a small, happy laugh at his admittance and closed your eyes. The feeling only lasted a moment as you realized that he wouldn’t be staying, however. Nicomund was still Santa Claus, for crying out loud. Your smile turned sad as you fully realized that this couldn’t go anywhere. Opening your eyes and staring at his chest, you kept tracing the tattoos quietly, thinking.
“Will you come back next year?” you finally brought yourself to ask, your eyes still downcast.
A warm palm stroked over your jaw and tilted your head up to meet warm blue eyes.
“Only if you stay off the naughty list,” he said, going for humor to lift the suddenly heavier mood, but his smile was slightly off.
You couldn’t help but snort anyway and gave him a small smile, the implications of his comment clear. You’d always been on the nice list, so surely…
“No promises,” you whispered, having him huffing out a small laugh this time, while his fingers ran along the back of your neck in a wonderfully soothing way.
Your eyes slowly fell close, your fingers stopping their path on his skin as his touch lulled you to sleep. You were completely unable to fight it and soon, the last thing you felt were soft lips on your forehead.
With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.
One week later.
Two hours past the new year, after your friends had left, and you’d put the night’s dinner leftovers in the fridge, you sank onto the couch with a glass of eggnog. You stared at the liquid with bleary eyes, smiling to yourself as you thought of Nicomund. It was a bittersweet thought, but you tried to keep any sadness away whenever you thought of him. Still slightly tipsy, you berated yourself for missing the opportunity to make a bad joke with eggnog. Maybe you should write it in next Christmas’ note. You could already see him rolling his eyes at you and grinned.
Taking a sip and leaning your head back over the couch, you let your mind drift to the moment when you’d been lying face to face, his hands in your hair.
A whoosh of air suddenly went through the living room, having you gasp and sit upright again. Your mouth fell open at the now familiar golden sparks coming through the fireplace. A few seconds later, you were looking into Nicomund’s face.
“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively.
Standing and looking at your glass, you put it down on the coffee table and tilted your head at him.
“I should really, really leave off the eggnog,” you said as you approached him. “I’m starting to see Santa at New Year.”
“Maybe you’ll see me at Easter too,” he smirked, leaning towards you as you cupped his face to kiss him.
#Nicomund x reader#violent night#santa x reader#reader insert#violent night fanfiction#david harbour#christmas smut#yes I'm aware it's August 🤣
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Your future life with the Hogwarts Legacy folks:
Sebastian Sallow
Hogsmeade was magical during Yule. Lights and decorated trees, pretty ornaments hung around the houses and the carols sung all around the village. The snow covered streets brought out a cozy feeling that just made you want to hide in the Three Broomsticks with a warm cup of cocoa or a mug of butterbeer next to the fireplace. Thankfully, you didn't have to think about work these days and you could enjoy a holiday with your husband.
Sirona's smiling face greeted you at the entrance. She hadn't aged at all since you were students. "Well if it isn't mr. and mrs. Sallow." She teased. Contrary to what everyone believed, Sebastian had chose to folllw in his family's footsteps and became an auror, who turned his back on the dark arts and instead opted to fight them. Ominis joked that even though you endorsed him all those years, you became the good influence and prompted a change in him after your wedding.
You, yourself had become a professor in Defense against the dark arts at Hogwarts after professor Hecate's retirement. "Oh, stop the formalities, Sirona, its Y/N and Sebastian." You laughed. "I will always remember the times when you were always getting into trouble." Sirona joked "Look at you now. All grown up. What can I get you?" You made your orders and sat at the table next to the fireplace, enjoying its warmth.
"I don't know when was the last time I told you this but I'll remind you. You're the best thing that happened to me. If it wasn't for you, I don't know where I would be right now." Sebastian looked at you with adoring eyes, a smile on his lips. "Azkaban?" You joked. After sharing a small laugh, he continued. "But...really. You made me a better person, professor Sallow." He smirked. "I'm glad to hear it, chief auror Sallow."
Ominis Gaunt
The ministry was dull and boring as ever. Everyone was so busy and...corporate... You sat at your desk, twiddling around a feather in your hand, wondering what to do, since your work was finished half an hour ago. Wondering if your husband was as workless as you were, you decided to go and check for yourself.
The corridor seemed endless. After finally seeing the door with his name on it, you knocked softly, waiting for an answer. "Minister Gaunt, you have a visitor." You teased him, upon entering. He shot you a welcoming smile, before going back to the papers in front of him. You took a moment to admire him. You always knew he would make it big, despite his disability. He was smart and adaptive. Nothing could stop him from achieving his dreams and you were so proud of him.
You couldn't help but walk over to him and hug him from behind his chair, nuzzling into his neck. "Darling, I have work to do." Ominis kissed your cheek sweetly "I promise, I will not let you go but when we go home." Feeling you pout, he sighed and contemplated for a moment. "My love..." he tried to speak, but you only hugged him stronger. "Just five minutes, Omi, I promise. I'm bored out of my mind." Snaking your body to the front of the chair, you sat on his lap, making him blush. "Ah... Y/N, you do whatever you want with me." Chuckling under his breath, he kissed you passionately, meanwhile casting a spell to lock the door.
Garreth Weasley
An explosion erupted from within your husband's potions shop, making you sigh. No surprise, with all the experiments he was doing and new concoctions he attempted to brew. You walked inside just in time to see Garreth, covered in soot and liquid, frantically trying to clean up the mess he had made.
"Too high temperature?" You asked, smirking. He looked you and scoffed at your amused face. This wasn't the first time you saw him covered in the mess he created. It was even too many to count. So many it didn't make you burst out laughing anymore. Despite that, he had made himself the name of the best potioneer in England with a successful potions shop and even published a book with his own recipes for potions. So to create said new potions, he had to go through trial and error multiple times a day.
"Too many troll boggeys." He answered, eyeing you up and down to find something to get back at you with "And you? A niffler caught your foot?" He pointed at the noticable missing piece of fabric of pants on your lower leg. You on the other hand, pursued your dreams of taking care of beasts to keep the wild populations stable. "Ah, kneezles get too playful sometimes. I think she believed my leg was a toy tree she could climb on." You waved your hand, dismissing concerns "What were you brewing this time?" Garreth sighed, motioning to the mess around his potion station.
"I attempted to create a potion, which could help the user breathe underwater." He explained "Not turn the user into a newt!" Ignoring your laugh, Garreth waved his wand, putting everything was back into place, clean and tidy "So after failed attempt number one, this is the result of attempt number two." He never failed to put a smile on your face though. "Don't worry, love, I'm sure you will get it next time." You reassured, moving closer to him for a hug, but stopped, remembering his... state right now.
Garreth rubbed the back of his neck. "Ahh...let's leave that for later, alright?" He chuckled.
Amit Thakkar
"I found it!" Amit exclaimed, excitedly shifting in his place, barely able to stop himself from jumping. His voice was quivering from the excitement of his discovery. He had been searching every night for some legendary constellation, appearing only once every few hundred years, or that was what the ancient scriptures that lead him on his search said. After realizing the time of appearance was soon, he spent night after night for a whole week staring up at the sky with his telescope with you to keep him company.
"Look!" He gave you the telescope to see for youself and lo and behold, he was right. A constellation you had never seen before right in front of your eyes. The stars glimmered together in the formation of a figure of a sphinx with two heads - a man's and a snake behind it. It sent shivers down your spine.
"Thank you for supporting me in this, my love." He hugged you so tightly and lovingly "Everyone else thought I was crazy!" You giggled "I knew you could do it. You're the best astrologer of our time." You pecked his lips with a smile, making him blush "Ah, you don't have to inflate my ego." He chuckled shyly and averted his gaze. "That's why I married you, Y/N. You believe in me."
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow x mc#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x reader#garreth weasley#garreth weasley x mc#garreth weasley x reader#amit thakkar#amit thakkar x mc#amit thakkar x reader
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𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
when internet trolls poke fun at your appearance while working on a case, hotch is there to make you feel better. fem!reader, 3k
tw cyberbullying, poor eating habits, criminal minds typical violence
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You're not a media liaison or anything close, but with JJ off for maternity leave and Penelope in Quantico, there's a face needed for the press announcement on TV, and you offer to step in.
You aren't particularly eager to do it, but Hotch doesn't have the time or wherewithal and such a high intensity case, not while Spencer is at half-mast, migraines rendering him ineffective and stubborn. You're trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly, doing your part of the profiling while juggling media and supporting the police sergeant that's heading the tip line.
You're not expecting to become a joke. After a red-eye, three sleepless nights trying to find a missing woman in Oklahoma —the domestic violence capital— and a full day without something to eat, you're aware you don't look your best, but you aren't sure what that has to do with your missing person.
The FBI — fugly bitches International. #FindDanaLangley
Damn, are they not letting those agents sleep or what? She looks terrible !
she should be less worried about Dana Langley and more concerned with the dead woman in the mirror, ew
hope theu find her just so they stop putting this creature on TV #FindDanaLangley
"Well," you murmur, wondering if it would be inappropriate to burst into tears, "these aren't especially helpful."
Derek looks at you, his gaze measured, and you know he's not sure how to react to you or what's happening. He settles on his usual loving encouragement, because he's a very good friend.
"Don't listen to all that," he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "those trolls wouldn't know beautiful if it hit them in the face. But we could always try it?"
You sink into his hold, needing the reassurance even if you wish you didn't. "No hitting," you say, covering your mouth to hide a large and possibly fugly yawn. Your head is racing with regurgitated insults. "It doesn't matter, Derek. Promise. We have bigger stuff to deal with."
The door opens and Hotch and Emily step inside, Rossi just behind them. You're thinking Hotch is going to agree with your sentiment, no time for comfort when a woman's life is at stake, so you move away from Morgan to sit in front of your laptop again.
"Is something wrong?" Hotch asks.
You meet his eyes just long enough to smile at him. "Nothing. What did Amandla have to say?"
Emily retells the alibi of Dana's ex-girlfriend and is clearly suspicious but without proof, you're forced as a team to move on to the next lead. Spencer returns shortly afterward and you try to brainstorm your next step.
It's Penelope that pulls through. "You asked me to cross reference the neighbours at Dana's previous address with people crossing state lines, right, after that one guy ended up being kinda icky? Well I did that, and nothing came up, which was–"
"Garcia," Hotch interrupts.
"Right. Long story short, one of the neighbours recently had an extreme falling out with Icky Guy after a years long friendship, his name is Justin Mantova, he has extreme PTSD with documented episodes of confused aggression, and he's been seen coming in and out of a storage unit in Paseo Storage Solutions for the past four days."
"Address?" Hotch asks.
"Already sent to your phones."
"Thank you, Pen," you say.
"Just go catch the bad guy, pretty girl," she says.
Ah, so she's seen the tweets too. You frown rather than smile, reminded again of what's been said and wishing you could be anywhere else.
You get your wish and forget all about personal grievances for a while, concerned with the safe location and extraction of Dana Langley. The operation is clean, and she's hurt but has a great chance at a full recovery. It's quick, it's professional.
You're falling asleep in the SUV on the way back. Hotch at the wheel, Spencer in the backseat, you rub your eyes from the passenger side and try not to look suspiciously morose, but it's impossible. Hotch is too good at his job.
"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asks. With Spencer's window open and the wind whipping, it's hard to hear him.
"Hm?"
"Is everything okay?"
"I'm just tired." You don't look at him. It's rude of you, but if what they've said is true —you'd seen the photographs, and you looked tired, sure, but you still looked like you. "Just tired," you say again. You snap your mouth closed when your voice wobbles.
Hotch is regularly too sweet on you. Most of the team say it's a crush. Emily calls it 'character development. Whatever it is, he's nice to you. He warmed up to you near immediately when you first joined the team, and he's been as welcoming months later as he was in your first week.
Maybe he feels sorry for me, you think, submerging yourself inch by inch into self pity.
The three of you regroup with the others at the police station to pen immediate recounts of what happened before you can forget, tying up loose ends.
Finally you're able to go back to the hotel. Another half an hour and you're in the lobby.
"We'll go home in the morning. Nine AM flight, meet in the lobby at eight thirty," Hotch says. "Get some rest."
You disband. They've squeezed you in all over the place, and you're lucky enough to be next to the elevator on the second floor. Hotch is the third floor, and everyone else the sixth, so you say goodbye to your colleagues and exit the elevator, stepping onto the second floor with a parting smile.
You can't know it, but Hotch notices the way your smile falls before the doors have well and truly closed. Your shoulders slump in defeat.
You trudge into your room and don't bother turning on the lights. The door closes behind you and the mask you'd been holding up starts to crack. You put your laptop in the closet despite temptation to boot it up, knowing no good can come of looking at the tip hashtag again.
You head into the bathroom to pee, and you're confronted with your appearance as you wash your hands.
You stare at yourself.
You look tired.
Tears well as you look at yourself. You're not those things those people said. You're pretty, and when you smile everyone knows it. There's nothing so beautiful as a smile. You can't summon one, but you know it's the truth.
Or, it should be.
A single tear falls down your cheek, quickly followed by a second, and a third from the other eye. You ignore them, tracing the line of your bottom lip, the texture of your skin on your cheeks, the slight sunken effect of your under eyes.
A knock makes you flinch. "Fuck," you say, wiping your cheek with the back of a hand, twisting on the spot like looking into your room might reveal whoever it is at the door. Probably one of your team. "Hello?" you call.
"It's me. It's Hotch. I know it's after hours, but I wanted to speak with you."
Whatever reassurance he has to give might actually make this all much worse. You don't want any pity from anybody, you just want today to be over. Still, you wiggle your toes into the plush hotel carpeting, debating only for a moment about the pros and cons of pretending to be asleep.
"Hey," you say, opening the door. You wipe your eyes and hope he takes it for a tired gesture rather than a method of hiding the glassy sheen at your waterline. "Hi, Hotch, how are you feeling?"
"Fine. Tired. Thank you for asking."
"Do you want to come in?" you ask.
"Please."
Hotch follows you into your room. There's an armchair across from the bed next to a desk and an old TV sitting atop it. Your suitcase is still open on your bed, your pyjamas crumpled in the shell. You close it before Hotch can see. That's another thing to add to your list: being a slob.
"It's very clean in here," he says.
You startle. "What?"
"It's clean, considering how long we've been here. Have you ever seen Spencer's room at the end of a case?" he asks.
"No, is it bad?"
"It's like a paper hurricane."
You look down at your knees, hyper aware of his gaze on your face, tired of feeling uneasy in your skin.
"I wanted to say thank you for doing the press release yesterday. You did an amazing job. It's something to be proud of."
Of course he's talking about the press release, the one thing you need to not think about.
"Did Derek tell you?" you ask.
"Tell me what?" he asks, voice sharpening.
You look up. Hotch is a picture of concern, professionalism slightly off centre.
"Nothing."
"Something's been bothering you. Something Derek should've told me, I'm guessing."
You chew over your words. "Uh. Hotch, it's really nothing, it's a hiccup. The press release, I…" You really don't want to have to say it. The words get stuck at the back of your throat.
He leans forward. "What?"
"I looked sick. On TV. I looked really unwell, and it– it actually–" Why are you stammering? What's wrong with you? You laugh and it's not your laugh but it's better than your nonsense stuttering. "Sorry. On the press release, I didn't look my best, and it was a hot topic. That's what I thought Derek told you about. But I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me, Hotch."
"I don't feel sorry for you."
You wince, "No, of course not."
"Two seconds," he says, putting his hand forward in the air between you. "A hot topic? I don't understand." He looks genuinely apologetic.
"The tip line got clogged up with comments about my appearance," you say. You phrase it as a professional error rather than the embarrassing event it represents in your personal life.
His lips curl downward. "Saying you looked tired."
"Saying I looked unagreeable."
"As a friend," he says, tone softening, "could you tell me what they said?"
Heat blooms in your cheeks and behind your eyes, your throat aching as you scratch at a nonexistent itch in the crook of your elbow. "Um. Well, there was a lot of them, and they weren't all about me, but the ones I saw, they seemed to think I needed more sleep. That I–"
Hitch rarely interrupts, but something in your voice must impel him. "What did they say?" he asks again.
"That I looked like a creature. That they hoped Miss Langley would be found, so that they didn't have to see my face on TV again. Hotch," you say, your throat sounding as tight as it feels, "it was pretty bad, but it really doesn't matter."
"I think it matters if it's upset you," he says.
He has the warmest voice when he wants it to be, so dulcet, almost melodic. You'd think it was a practised phrase, but he speaks freely.
"It didn't," you lie.
Pointless in your line of work and automatic anyways. Hotch doesn't deny you the safety of your untruth, but he doesn't entertain it, either.
"You're beautiful when you're tired," he says.
You don't mean to, but you hold your breath. The silence that follows his remark is deafening.
"You're beautiful," he says, again, as though you could've missed it the first time. "Regrettably, you're very tired, but you don't look any less pretty. Don't think what was sent in to the tip line has any merit."
"Are you saying that as my friend or my boss?" you ask. It's meant to be a joke that lightens the mood.
"Neither," Hotch says.
You gawp, and then falter. "Why…"
Hotch is close enough to offer a hand, and you're feeling stupid enough to take it. He squeezes tenderly, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm sorry about what's being said. I had no idea. We can pull the video, and the tipline should stop now Dana's been found, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. I'm so sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair."
"It's a hard job, right?" you ask.
His hand is so so big, and not as soft as you'd pictured. It doesn't make a difference, not when he's touching you like you might shatter.
"That's not the job," he says.
"It's silly to care, though. About what other people think."
"I hope you care about what I think. The merit of an opinion comes from the person, and the relationship you have with them. Anyone who knew you would know that you're beautiful."
"Inside that counts," you say, not fully comforted, but trying to give him an out.
"You're beautiful on the outside," he says, giving your hand a small shake. "You're an amazing woman, of course. But I, for one, enjoyed seeing your face on TV."
You try not to smile too hard, directing your gaze at your joined hands lest he get a read on you.
Hotch must know how you feel about him. He'd be an awful profiler if he didn't. You fawn when you're around him even now, months down the line from your very first meeting when you were sure your heart would ricochet from your chest, the intensity of your instant crush like nothing you'd felt, not even as a schoolgirl. He'd been tall, striking, classically handsome and completely unaware of the fact. Now he's sitting across from you and he doesn't seem so tall, nor so striking. His caring side shines like a gem. It's blinding, and it really does make you feel better.
"I cried in the bathroom," you confess, rubbing your thumb against his in minute, near imperceptible circles. "I wish it didn't matter to me, how I looked. I know I was doing something important, and there wasn't time to freshen up. Maybe I should've just asked somebody else."
"You did it perfectly. You were perfect. No one else could have delivered the profile to the public that professionally, and that astutely."
Hotch stands up, and you don't know what to do. You decide to look up at him just as he takes your face into his hands.
"No crying in bathrooms, okay? It would… it breaks my heart thinking about it. You come to me."
Such a dramatic statement, yet Hoch lays it out like it's an unquestionable truth. No bravado, only a sincerity that makes your throat hurt. His frown slides back into place as his palms warm your cheeks.
"You're so busy, I could never," you say, shaking your head.
"Time and place, sure, but. I will always try to make time for you. I hope you know that by now."
You nod dazedly. Hotch's hands drag with a pressure down to your neck, your shoulders, leaving tingling skin in their wake. He looks at you and time stretches, a few seconds pulled out of order. It's his closeness, and his affectionate, empathetic smile.
You nod again.
He relaxes.
"Try and get some rest, okay? You need to take care of yourself. I know it's hard to ignore how you feel, I know today was hard, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I have faith in you." He gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you say. It comes out much more quietly than intended.
"Rest, honey. Call me if you're upset again. I mean it."
He smooths your cheek with the back of his forefinger and you wonder if this is some weird fantasy. Hotch makes for the door, and you know for sure it's real when he says, "And no more caffeine tonight."
"No more caffeine," you agree.
He doesn't realise he's twice as bad as a coffee. Your heart races all by itself, his phantom touch on your cheek.
—
"Hi, beautiful," Derek says.
"There's the girl of the hour," Rossi says.
You roll your arm in a bow, eyes stinging from the bright lobby lights but otherwise quite happy. Hotch called you beautiful last night. Hotch called you honey. People on the Internet who have nothing better to do thought you looked gross, but Hotch thinks you're pretty. It's hard to focus on the negative with a positive that good.
"Good morning, my favourite boys," you say sweetly.
Spencer looks up from his book. "Hey."
"You didn't say hello," you say, "you excluded yourself."
Spencer frowns and goes back to his book. You offer him a mini cookie from your pocket and he perks up, better when you whisper, "You know you're my favourite, Reid."
"We all know that's a lie," Emily says, rolling her small suitcase to your left and nearly trampling your foot.
"Unfortunately so," Rossi agrees.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."
"Hotch looks chipper this morning, doesn't he?" Derek asks, nodding. You follow his nod too quickly and give yourself away, earning a scattered round of laughter from your tired team. "Got you."
"Laugh it up," you say. You're on a high that can't be killed, even with their collective teasing.
"Why are we laughing?" Hotch asks from behind you.
You jump half out of your skin.
"We were laughing at Y/N's swift observational skills, but we spoke too soon," Emily says.
Hotch takes a moment to smile at you. "Hey, you look a little more rested. Feeling better?"
A flush rises to your cheeks. "Much," you say, sounding foreign to your own ears.
Hotch gives a pleased nod and clasps your shoulder gently before manoeuvring around you. "Let me go see where JJ is."
He walks around the lobby corner and into the hotel restaurant. You have your face in your hands before he's gone, harassed by quiet whistles and giggling.
"She's so embarrassed!" Rossi cheers, like a proud dad. "How hopeless, young love."
"Someone please shut him up," you beg, rubbing your aching eyes. It's an excuse to hide your smile a moment longer.
"Are you still tired?" Spencer asks. "You look tired."
"She does not," Derek says severely.
You raise your head with a smile. Tired or not, Hotch thinks you're beautiful. He liked seeing you on TV. You lavish the memory.
"I'm genuinely exhausted," you say eventually, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek as you stand tall again.
"I want whatever kind of tired you're feeling," JJ says as she arrives, Hotch a step behind her.
You meet his eyes. You think he might not acknowledge what's been said between you —it wasn't strictly professional to have held your face in his hands like that, after all— and the beginnings of disappointment creep in, until he stands at your side, his fingertips brushing yours. It cannot be accidental.
"She wears it well, doesn't she?" he asks the group. He gives no time for an answer. "Everyone ready?"
You practically vibrate your way to the SUV. Not a bad case, as they go.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading, so much! I hope you enjoyed! if you did and you have the time, please consider reblogging cos it makes me happy <3
#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotch hotchner
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Text
You shouldn’t let her go
Pairing: Lewis Hamilton!girlfriend reader x Max Verstappen!ex-girlfriend reader
Warnings: stupid Max, pregnancy
Summary: Max left his fiancée after years of relationship because he felt he couldn't stand being tied to someone anymore so after almost two years she shows up in the paddock with Lewis and he realizes he shouldn't have let her go.
Ps: just to make it clear, I am not in favor of the rivalry that is imposed on Lewis and Max, I know they are not friends but the reality does not match my stories, this is fiction so don't take it personally.
Next Chapter
When he decided that our relationship should end I thought he was joking.
For days and weeks I couldn't believe that this was real, but my mind was made up as soon as I saw pictures of him on the internet with women in parties.
It was then that I realized that our engagement was over.
I don't think I have ever suffered so much in my life, I never thought that I would be isolated for months.
I suffered so much that I started to stop eating, in the beginning I ate very little but as the days went by I decreased until I almost stopped completely but luckily my mother saved me from being at the bottom of the pit.
The first months were difficult, I had been used to our own routine for years and having to leave it suddenly was extremely difficult, in fact I was torn out of that routine.
I had to leave where I had lived for years since the apartment was his, I had to learn to take care of my place by myself since now there was no one else for me to share my tasks with.
But 5 months later I met someone, someone who made me have those feelings again, the feelings that I thought after Max I would never have again.
I already knew who he was and he also knew who I was but the fact that he was Max's enemy but leads meant that we never really talked.
Lewis and I had been dating for almost 9 months when he ask me to be his girlfriend and I remember being extremely happy that he was taking our relationship as seriously as I was.
And since that day we have been together and today would be the first time I could be in a formula one paddock since Max and I broke up.
Today was the Dutch GP and Lewis and I were on our way to the paddock, him and I had agreed early on in the relationship that we would only go public when we were comfortable letting the world know about us. I know how well this world works, if you don't do something people judge you and if you do something they judge you anyways.
And I knew what the fans would say that I was a hustler who only dates drivers and that since I got dumped by one I went after another.
But they don't know the half of it because the part where I suffered they don't care because one of the most coveted pilots became single so they can go after him and try their luck and some of them really do.
Most of them are like that, they go from city to city in nightclubs chasing silly girls who are willing to have their one minute of fame for being able to say that they fuck a formula 1 driver, but in the end this is nothing because in years of relationship he can forget you in one day so how long does it take for them to forget a simple fuck?
When we arrived in the paddock I could already feel my nervousness and so could Lewis, he knew I was afraid to come but not because I was here again or even because I had to see him.
But because of the fact that I would be judged for dating a driver who doesn't get along well with my ex for clear reasons.
But I'm already expecting that his fans don't like me.
"Are you okay?" He asks looking at me but I don't answer and just stare at nothing. "Hey, baby."
"Yeah?" I asked looking at him.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Again he asks and I don't answer. "I'm not sure we picked the right GP to do this."
"In this situation there is no right GP. But I think we picked the worst one." I say and he laughs. "Look they are going to hate me anyway with us showing up together today or in the next race so let's just get over with."
"That's the way to talk." He says cheerfully and we get out of the car.
When we got out of the car and were getting in it seemed like the world had stopped around the two of us, the flashes and noises of the cameras, the movement was so big that even some of the drivers that were scattered around looked and were surprised at what they were seeing.
Halfway there I felt Lewis taking my hand and intertwining our fingers and confirming what people were thinking.
We walked to the Mercedes garage and before we entered I could see him standing in front of the Red Bull garage with some people from the team talking to him but Max was more focused on me than on them.
When we got inside I went to say hello to the people from the team, some faces were already known but most I didn't know who they were.
"We have an unexpected visitor." I hear a voice behind me and I recognized it right away by the accent.
"Hi Toto, how are you?"
"Fine and you?"
"I'm great taking all the attention."
"It's almost as if Beyoncé is walking into the paddock."
"I felt like her." He laughs.
"I'm going to go change and be right back okay?" Lewis says and I nodded and he gave me a kiss before heading to his room.
"I'm going to get some coffee, will you let him know for me?" Toto agrees and I leave to get a cup of coffee.
Which I shouldn't have done if I knew Max would find me and come after me.
"Hi."
"Hi Max."
"Good to see you, you look great."
"Thanks."
"And how are you?"
"Fine."
"I haven't heard from you anymore."
"You wouldn't have had to know, you made it very clear that you didn't want me in your life anymore the last time we saw each other."
"And that was the biggest mistake of my life.”
"That’s your problem now." I said walking past him but he held my arm. "Can you let go of me?"
"Are you really with him or was that whole scene just to make me jealous?"
"Pay close attention because I'm only going to tell you once, you broke up with me and it was you who broke my heart. You don't know what the hell my life was like after you dumped me, so don't come to me wanting to know about my life because I don't owe you anything.”
"I'm sorry I was an asshole and I deserve that you are angry with me but seriously you are dating him? You didn't even like him."
"YOU didn't even like him Max I've never even spoken to him to draw those conclusions. And you are rivals on the track but off the track you have no connection."
"So you're dating a guy who hates me? After everything we've been through?"
"And after everything we've been through you dumped me like that for no reason at all so it looks like we're even." He looks at me with anger and sadness at the same time. "And for your information yes I am dating him and it's been a long time, it's not something recent that happened just so I could make you jealous. So leave me alone."
I turned to leave and after a few steps I stopped and looked at him.
"Actually I do owe you something.” He looked at me. "I owe you a thank you for breaking my heart years ago because then I could meet a guy who really loves me and who sees a future with me unlike you who only saw me as a trophy that you dragged everywhere."
Having said that I actually left and went to get a coffee which would actually be a tea since I was avoiding drinking too much coffee.
After buying the tea and a donut that I couldn't resist when I saw it I went back to the Mercedes garage seeing a super worried Lewis.
"Oh my God, where were you? I was worried when I came back and didn't see you here."
"I asked Toto to tell you I was going to get something to drink."
"He had to go to a meeting and must have forgotten."
"I'm fine, don't worry."
"You look a little pale, is something wrong?" He asks, running his hand over my face and I know why I was pale but I wouldn’t tell him right before the race.
"I had a forced conversation with Max on the way over."
"What did he do? Did he hurt you?"
"He didn't hurt me he just wanted to know if we were really together or I was just using you to make him jealous. But I'm not." I hasten to say."
"I know don't worry about it, don't worry about him okay? He's not worth your time."
Lewis put his arms around my waist bringing me close to him and I held his face and kissed him until we were interrupted by the crew calling Lewis to get in the car because the race was about to start, he kissed me once more and went to the car.
I didn't remember how torturous and agonizing it was to have someone you love racing at over 300km/h, every time it seemed like someone was going to crash and I was scared to death that something was going to happen to Lewis but I knew that he was an excellent driver and had total control of what he was doing.
That was until he started to lose positions and that made me and the team worried because the car was the best of the weekend.
Max was first now and I could almost hear his laughter in my head and it really pissed me off.
"Y/n come here." I heard Toto calling me and Bono handing me a microphone.
"Why are you giving this to me?" I picked up the headset in confusion.
"He's nervous for some reason and we can't calm him down so try talking to him."
"Lewis can you hear me?" I ask after I put the headset on.
"Honey? What are you doing there?"
"You need to concentrate, what's going on?"
"I keep thinking about you and him, and it's distracting me. I'm afraid that after you talked today you might want to get back together with him.”
"Don't think about it, I love you and I'm never getting back with Max, understand? I couldn't even."
"Why couldn't you?"
"Because me and our baby love you and we are here rooting for you too."
"Our baby?" he asks without understanding.
"I'm pregnant babe."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, I am."
"Are we having a baby?"
"Yes we are." I could hear him laughing with happiness. "So go get him."
Right then he sped up and sped up as if his life depended on it and on the last lap he passed Max and the whole garage celebrated, when he crossed the finish line we all went in front of the podium where I went running with the team and stood right in front, he jumped out of the car and celebrated and then came running towards me and kissed me, he pulled me through the fence hugging me even tighter. He bent down and kissed my belly making me laugh through my tears and the look on Max's face that came second didn't go unnoticed, I don't know if it was me but their eyes seemed to shine with the tears but at the moment I didn't care because my happiness was there with me celebrating his victory.
Bonus scene!
Yourusername instagram post
Liked by LewisHamilton, yourmom, mickshumacher, landonorris and others 82937
Yourusername After feeling lonely and unhappy for years I finally found someone who makes me feel like the most special woman in the world. I can't thank you enough for making me shine again and for making me a better person.
And now that our family is growing, I can only thank you for always being there for us, I love you so much.
Tagged: LewisHamilton
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