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#it makes me feel like an attention hog
heckypants · 2 years
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this is literally the first prsk fanart ive drawn but oh my GOD i love mafuyu im literally so normal about her (LIE)
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hungharrington · 23 days
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Ok hear me out casual intimacy with Steve!! Like imagine the first time u shower together and u just wash his hair for him! The first time u change in front of him or wen ur wearing an oversized t shirt and like skimpy panties and go over to the couch where he is and sit in his lap it's the moments where it's such so much trust and love low key him realizing how comfy u are around him and how much u trust him he gets turned on
Brushing ur teeth together at his place? Man is half hard already
ohooooo casual intimacy IS his turn on you’re so goddamn right — this is just like, sweet domesticity <3 and steve then gets turned on by it hehehe + fade to black smut
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There had been a period of time after you got together where Steve sometimes wondered if you were ever going to properly relax around him. Like truly relax.
Not that he minded in the least! Watching you avert your gaze nervously, feeling your face glow all hot when he calls you honey, feeling the little tremble in your fingers when you hold his hand— Steve adores it all.
He knows it means you like him. And Steve likes you too.
He likes you a whole bunch— like a lot a lot, okay? In fact, if he probably told you how much he likes you, you’d probably melt and hide under the covers and never return. Which Steve doesn’t ever want.
So you’re a bit reserved and Steve’s still crazy for you and it works. But basically, he never really expected to get this.
“D’ya wanna, like, maybe, shower together?”
Steve blinks, his towel in one hand and his heart pounding in his chest. Did you just say that? He blinks again, just to be sure.
You’re staring at him from your place on his bed, probably being the bravest you’ve ever been considering what you’ve just asked him.
“Yeah- yes. Of course.” He stammers out before you can get too shy on him. “I’ll go get another towel.”
It doesn’t take long for him to snag another from the linen cupboard but by the time he’s back, he can hear the spray of the shower. You’ve left a trail of clothes leading up to it. Something warm stirs in his chest.
He doesn’t make a big deal about it and you seem grateful for it. Beyond the odd complaint about hogging the water, to which Steve sticks his tongue out at you before switching, it’s almost like an ordinary shower. Washing up, wetting his hair.
Except, y’know, til you offer to wash it.
I swear to god do not get a boner right now, Steve thinks desperately to himself, his head ducked down so you could reach it more easily. You’re not making it easy for him. You’re paying him so much attention, your fingertips soothing along his scalp as you lather up the shampoo, massaging the skin. It’s heaven.
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this relaxed whilst the two of you have no clothes on.
You’ve been trying not to be so iffy about being naked but honestly Steve didn’t care if you were forever. He likes you any way he can get you.
Usually, the lead up to sex is the only time Steve gets to see you naked— when it’s all charged air and an eager energy to start making each other feel good. Hot kisses and a feverish vision of pleasure.
But this… this is different. There’s no charged energy, just a low buzz of love.
You cup your hands over his eyes so shampoo doesn’t get in them when you tilt his head back to rinse it and Steve nearly cries then and there. He’s never been so happy to return a favour, letting you lean up against him as he soaps up your hair. He’s pretty sure your eyes are closed the whole time. It feels good, taking care of you. It makes him happy.
Afterward, as you towel off, Steve keeps expecting that familiar shyness to creep in.
He’s not watching, okay? But as he gets himself dressed, just in his pyjama pants, it doesn’t go unnoticed that you’re not scrambling to cover up. Instead, you’re at ease, slipping on your panties and then one of his own large t-shirts. You must’ve stolen it when he wasn’t in the room.
It makes him pause, a momentary gawk, before he remembers to close his mouth. You catch the end of it and a flustered expression crosses your face, as if realising how much you’re exposing yourself. And that just won’t do— so Steve remedies it with a kiss, dragging you over to him by the waist so he can lean up against the counter and kiss you sweetly.
You both have wet hair. Your skin is all dewey from the shower and your eyelashes look extra long when they’re wet. You’re fucking beautiful.
It’s all Steve can think as you both brush your teeth in the mirror— making eye contact every couple of seconds and grinning like goofballs. It’s not productive. Steve adores it.
You’re both half-dressed, you without pants and Steve without his shirt, and it’s so damn homey, so cozy, so in love, that it makes Steve’s chest a little tight, in a good way. It’s intimate. You trust him.
Oh my god, He thinks. You trust him.
His pants grow tight. The flimsy material of his pyjamas hide nothing. Steve holds one hand in front of his crotch and looks to the ceiling for strength, because there’s no way you won’t be able to notice.
You lean over and spit out your toothpaste and then look at him through the mirror.
“Steve?”
“Yah?” He gargles back, toothbrush still in his mouth, eyes still on ceiling. His cock thickens a little more in his pants, blood getting a little hotter.
“Are you…?”
He gives a big sigh through his nose, “Yah.”
He finally forces himself to met your eyes through the mirror and you’re… smiling? Almost mischievously. Oh god.
“Because… of the teeth brushing?”
Steve rolls his eyes but the embarrassed flush on his cheeks still gives him away. He leans over and spits his toothpaste, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“No, not cos of the— well, not just cos of the—“ He cuts himself off, the blush on his face beginning to spread down his neck. “Look, you washed my hair and you’re not wearing any pants! We’re brushing our teeth together! I like it, okay?”
In a complete reversal of the usual, suddenly Steve’s the flustered one and you’re the cool, calm one. Your smile only grows at his explanation, some of the mischief exchanging for fondness.
“That’s okay,” You say softly. You press up on your toes to kiss his cheek and wander towards the door. “Do you wanna cuddle tonight?”
Steve’s cock gets harder at your words and he groans, because he knows you know what you’re doing— especially when you laugh a little, a cheeky sound. You’re playing into his in-love fantasy, his domestic dream, that somehow has a direct line to his dick now, which is probably most definitely a problem for later.
“You know I do.”
“Well, c’mon then, loverboy,” You coo.
Steve chases you from the bathroom all the way to his sheets, your laughter louder and more beautiful than anything.
And he does get his cuddles —y’know, after he fucks your brains out.
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monzabee · 5 months
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bad idea right? – ln4
masterlist
Summary: The one where seeing Lando tonight is a bad idea, right?
Pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: mentions of breakups and also fighting, cursing, kind of a toxic relationship?, allusion to smut, it's criminal how long it took me to finish this fic
Request: this wasn’t requested, but the idea is veeery loosely from this tiktok right here! (i might def write the scenario in the tiktok in the future though)
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! it has officially been a month since i started my master's programme and i have to say it is absolutely kicking my ass, but thank you all for bearing with me while i adjust! this song has been stuck in my head for the last two-three (?) months and i really wanted to write a fic based on it. i also wanted to say that i've received all of your guys' requests, and i'm working on those, but it's harder for me to get out a request than a fic that just popped in my head because i tend to be more of a perfectionist with those - so, those are definitely on the way, don't worry! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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It’s not that you don’t like spending time with your brother and his girlfriend – because you do, but considering the fact that spending a mere hour with them causes you to suddenly question your life choices (of being single), you are very eager to leave them alone for the night. Which brings us to the current situation, with you standing in front of your brother’s apartment complex in one of the hoodies you stole from the sample boxes, waiting for someone you should’ve never hit up in the first place. It was probably not your brightest idea to message Lando to ask him if he wants to go for a ride, especially because a) the last time you saw him a year ago the two of you were yelling and throwing things at each other and b) you’re definitely buzzed from the bottle of wine you hogged upstairs. But you know what they say; absence makes the heart go fonder, right?
So there you are with your phone in your hand, texting Lily in hopes of getting the tiniest bit of reassurance about your decision.
To lily m: i texted lando To lily m: he’s gonna pick me up From lily m: WHAT? NO To lily m: seeing him tonight To lily m: it’s a bad idea, right? From lily m: YES From lily m: DO NOT GET INTO THAT CAR To lily m: yes i know that he’s my ex, but can’t two people reconnect?
Fuck it, it’s fine, you decide as you quickly delete the last two messages. With a soft sigh, you wrap your arms around yourself to shield yourself from the cold air of the night. And while you could just wait for Lando inside the apartment building, you really don’t want to attract more attention to yourself. You can feel yourself getting more and more nervous as the minutes pass by, and you even contemplate cancelling the whole thing and going upstairs to sleep. Just as you’re about to give up on the whole thing, a car honk grabs your attention. When turn to look at the source of the sound, you see Lando’s unamused face through the open window.
He motions you to get in with his head, his voice as equally detached as he calls out, “Get in.”
Rolling your eyes at his behaviour, you do as your told. But you tell yourself that it’s not because he told you to, but because you’re cold. And so you get in the car making sure you slam the door as hard as you can, which makes him scowl as a small smile forms on your lips. “You know, you could really try on being more polite.”
“I’m picking you up in the middle of the night,” he points out as he puts the car on drive and starts driving off, “and put your damn seatbelt on.”
You give him a sideway glance as you put on your seatbelt, letting out a sigh, “Are you okay? I’m sensing some serious undertone.”  
Lando doesn’t answer you, mainly because he is smarter than he looks and he knows you’re trying to goad him into another fight. That’s what the two of you had always done, not that he hated you or vice versa, but the two of you mainly got along in fights which ended up in both of you twisted between the sheets of the whatever hotel you were currently staying in. And it had worked for a while, until of course it didn’t, and Lando was mature enough to admit that he had a huge role in fucking up your relationship.
“You changed your car,” you point out.
“Thought you’d appreciate a roof over your head this time,” he replies.
The car is silent as Lando drives down the now empty streets of Monte Carlo, and you find yourself involuntarily checking out his side profile because well, he always looked so good while driving. You suppose it’s only one of the things that didn’t change with time.
“So,” his voice draws you out from your thoughts, “why’d you call me tonight? Are you drunk?”
“I am not drunk,” you scoff, crossing your arms across your chest, “if you don’t feel like being here Lando, I can just get off and go home.”
“Now I didn’t say that, I simply asked a question.” He steals another glance at you, but this time a little smirk forms on his lips when your eyes meet and he sees your scowl. “It was a harmless question, really.”
Your voice comes off as clipped as you answer, “I’m not drunk.”
“Your cheeks are red,” Lando points out but the playfulness from mere seconds ago is gone, in fact, he’s more serious than you’ve probably ever seen him, “you either had wine or your rosacea is acting up.”
It takes a moment for you to take in his words, and there is no humour in his voice or on his face when you look at him to see whether he’s joking or not. “I had some wine,” you confess, voice much lower than before as you add, “but I’m not drunk.” One of his eyebrows rise up, and you find yourself mumbling, “Fine maybe a little bit, but not a lot.”
His jaw ticks as he mumbles, “Okay, whatever you say.” And as you try to assess whether his voice is cold or not, you see his hands tightening around the steering wheel.
“What?” You ask, a bit quicker than necessary (in your opinion), “What did I say?”
Now it’s his turn for his voice to be clipped, and his eyebrows furrow as he asks, “Did you only call me because you’re drunk?”
“No,” your reply is truthful to some extent, you suppose, you would’ve texted him even if you had no alcohol in your system. “I wanted to see you.”
He lets out a hum, “Why?”
It’s a hard question, and you contemplate not being a hundred percent honest – but deep down you know he deserves better, even if you had your differences. So, to reveal the truth, you turn your face away from him to look outside the window, “I missed you.”
He doesn’t say anything, and you don’t turn to see what his reaction will be. Everything is peaceful for a moment.
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He takes you to a hill, the very one he took you for your first date. Though, it doesn’t carry the same excitement this time around. The two of you remain in the car with the windows rolled down, but the colder air doesn’t make you chilly. It’s silent, but it’s not an uncomfortable one. Neither of you make the first move to start a conversation, and you don’t know if that’s because you’re both obstinate or he doesn’t want to be there. Though, you suspect he would’ve told you ‘no’ if he didn’t want to be there – not that he could ever tell you ‘no’.
It's unnaturally hard, you realise, not looking at him on purpose when he’s seated so close to you. Especially because you haven’t seen him in months. Not that you’d confess that to him, or let yourself have another weak moment where you say you missed him. Because you can’t. Because it’s not the way the two of you operate. Because he broke your heart but you’re not strong enough to let him go. With that last thought, you take a sharp breath, undo your seatbelt and get out of the car. You lean against the hood of the car and he soon follows suit. But where your hands are splayed behind your back, his arms are crossed over his chest.
“You’ve not been sleeping.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Because he is not dumb (or blind enough) to let the circles under your eyes slide.
And it’s a statement that might be true. You only give him half of a shrug, “So?”
“It means that something is bothering you.” You’re about to object, but he quickly shuts you down, “I once drove you around for four hours so you could sleep in my car, honey,” his fingers move to gently turn your chin towards him so he can look into your eyes, “and that was because you forgot to bring me back junk food from Australia.”
Even if you’re taken aback by his physical touch, you don’t show it as you stubbornly maintain your eye contact. “It’s the jet lag, I haven’t travelled in a while.” You gulp down a breath as you gently push his hand away, “And don’t call me that.”
“Why?” He turns his body to face you, “You’re just as sweet, aren’t you?”
“Lando,” you warn him, “don’t.”
He raises a brow, “Why not?”
“Because we’re friends,” your response comes off in an instant, “I only see you as a friend.” The biggest lie you’ve ever said.
“Friends,” he repeats, tests out the word, then shrugs, “sure. Now tell me what happened tonight that made you call me. Did you and Daniel fight?”
“What?” an involuntary laugh leaves your lips, and you catch the corner of his lips turning upwards just the smallest bit. “No, we didn’t, it’s not about Daniel. Can we just not talk about it, please?”
He gives you a firm nod, and you catch his grimace as he turns his attention back to the view in front of you. “You can tell me, you know,” he mumbles, “you used to.”
He’s right, you realise. You used to tell him all the little thought that popped into your head, whether it was nice or not, and he’d accommodated your thoughts. It was easier to talk to him, once upon a time, and you’re not really sure why it hurts so much right now that you can’t.
“Why do you care?” The question comes out quickly, and your voice is not as strong as you’d like it to be. “After everything, why do you care?”
“We’re friends, right?” The words tastes unbelievably sour in his mouth, and he has to restrain himself from making any sort of face, but it seems harder than it actually is for him to do and he questions whether it is worth it to
“Friends,” this time it’s your turn to test out the word, and it tastes as bitter as they come, “sure, can we ride around a bit more?”
“Fine,” he gives you a nod and motions you to get in the car, “but I have to get gas first.”
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The fluorescent lighting of the gas station is definitely not the most flattering thing. So much so that you’re sure the unflattering light outside is exaggerating the bags under your eyes. But that situation of course doesn’t apply to Lando because even under the harsh lighting, he looks too pretty. And compared to earlier in the night, you don’t try to hide the way your eyes focus on him while he’s driving, though you hope you do a much better job at hiding the thoughts that come to your mind. Even after he’s parked the car in the nearest pump, you find yourself staring at his side profile a bit too long, which earns you a sideway smirk and you try your hardest not to react, but the smile you keep trying to fight is too strong and eventually you find yourself with the tiniest smile playing on your lips.
Lando turns towards you, meets your eyes and leans over the console, “Do you want anything from the shop?”
You blink once, trying to come up with anything, twice, then “Can you get me those gummy bears that I like?”
He gives you another nod, reaches into his pocket and then hand you his phone. Ignoring your questioning stare, he explains, “So that you can play music or something, the password is still the same.” Before he gets out of the car, he does the unexpected and leans in just a little bit more to press a feather-light kiss to your temple.
You watch him get out of the car and walk away from you with your mouth slightly hanging open. You contemplate trying to unlock the phone, because why would he tell you that his password is the same? And why would he trust you with his phone when the two of you have been broken up for over a year? With shaky hands, your fingers put in the password, calling Lando’s bluff. Oh shit, you think when the phone unlocks, now what? Throwing the phone out of your hands onto the driver seat, you grab your own and quickly type a new message to Kika, who of course got the news from Lily and has been blowing up your phone, while ignoring her dozen other messages who went unread in your text thread.
To kika: this was a bad idea kika Tokika: a very *very* bad idea From kika: please tell me you’re going home To kika: um… To kika: sure From kika: GET OUT OF THAT CAR AND GET YOUR ASS HOME From kika: NOW!!
Chewing on your lower lip, your eyes linger on the messages spamming your phone, and you contemplate just getting out of the car and trying to find your way back home. But you also can’t help yourself but think… what’s the worst that could happen if you stayed? Clicking the button on the side of your phone, you place it face down on your lap after making sure you silence it for the rest of the night. With the reminder of the abandoned phone on the seat next to yours, you open your window to let some of the night air in. As your phone keeps buzzing on your lap, your eyes focus on the figure that comes out of the convenience store – and by some grace of God, he doesn’t realise the way your eyes basically undress him as he approaches his McLaren.
There’s no smile on his face, in fact, if you didn’t know Lando, you’d say he looks like an asshole; not that he occasionally doesn’t act like one. He gives you that boyish smirk when he’s next to your window, signalling you to roll it down by tapping on it twice. Lando leans against the car, his eyes locked onto yours. “Got your gummy bears,” he says, holding up the package and handing it to you once you roll it down. “It was the last one too, you’re lucky.”
Giving a tight lipped smile to the man looking expectantly at you, you accept the packet of gummy bears. “Thank you, Lando,” the softening look in his eyes is, ironically, strong enough for you to choke on the next words that are on the tip of your tongue. “I–”
“I’m sorry to bother you, are you Lando Norris?” A third voice interrupts you, and you find yourself moving your gaze from Lando to the woman who’s excitedly waiting for a response.
“Yes,” he breathes out, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice polite but he’s also very annoyed at the same time – though the way he eyes up the stranger definitely makes your blood boil.
With his attention on the woman, you find yourself feel the tension in the air and quickly look down at the packet of gummy bears in your hands. You start absentmindedly picking at the wrapper, your mind racing with a mixture of emotions. As the conversation between Lando and the fan continues, you steal glances at them from the corner of your eye. She's gushing about a recent race, talking animatedly about the thrilling moments she witnessed. Lando, for his part, is gracious and engaged, taking the time to listen and respond. And despite the polite exchange, you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. It's a reminder of the world he's a part of, a world where fans approach him with admiration and excitement. A world you used to share, but now only observe from the sidelines.
You watch the woman place her hand on Lando’s bicep, laughing at a (rather mediocre) joke he made about the understeer of the car. It’s not a funny joke by any means, and you are not scared to admit that the woman’s laugh that fills your ears makes your insides twist uncomfortably. You remind yourself that you're here by choice. You could have left at any moment. But there's something about this night, about being with Lando again, that you can't quite let go of. It's a confusing mix of nostalgia and longing, wrapped in a blanket of uncertainty.
The woman’s voice hits your ears as you hear her ask, “Do you want to come back to my place?”
Without letting them both know that you’re actively listening into their conversation, you attempt to subtly let out a warning cough, but Lando covertly smirks as he leans towards the car with his hand grabbing the lowered window – without caring about the possible finger prints he might leave behind, might you add. Without any hesitation, you let your fingers go of the packaging to thread your fingers with his.
While his thumb gently starts to draw circles on the knuckle of your thumb, he does his best to supress the chuckle building up in his throat. “That’s, um, very kind – but I’m with my girl, you see, and we are both pretty tired.”
Maybe you would’ve given her a friendly smile over a misunderstanding if you were in a better mood, but as the woman looks at you with wild eyes, all you can offer her is an annoyed pout, and soon after she leaves after apologising to you both for interrupting your plans. You watch her leave until there is a good enough distance for her to not hear you, and then turn to Lando and give him a glare as you hiss, “I am not ‘your girl’.”
He finally lets out the chuckle he’s been holding as he watches you letting go of his hand with an exaggerated push, and then diverts his amused eyes towards you, “Sure, whatever you say, jealous girl.”
“I am not– I wasn’t jealous!” you exclaim, eyes narrowed. When he starts walking towards the driver’s side, you can’t help but call out, “I’m not jealous!”
Lando is still chuckling to himself when he gets in the car, and even as he starts driving, completely ignoring your whining complaints. “That’s alright, honey,” he says, voice full of condescension, “it was very cute.”
“You are an ass.” You roll your eyes as you cross your arms across your chest. “Maybe I should’ve gotten off when I had the chance, that way you could’ve fucked her in the back seat.”
“Bold of you assume she’s the one I’d want to fuck in my back seat,” he raises an eyebrow, then shrugs “but sure.”
Your face scrunches up in disgust, “You’re, ugh, you’re just the worst, Lando.” Shaking your head in disbelief, you add, “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you over you fucking girls in your car.”
Lando manages to get out a disapproving tut, and then contends, “I never said I’d fuck girls in my car, I’d said I’d rather fuck you in my car.”
Completely baffled by this revelation, not that you should’ve been, you turn to him in disgust, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He shrugs again, noncommittally, and without paying you any mind continues to focus on the road.
“Well,” you laugh, breathlessly, “good thing that’s never happening.” Gently clearing your throat, you later can’t help yourself but add a silent, “Again.”
“If you’d rather a bed, that could also be arranged, honey.” Lando assures you, and you realise the little fucker has a smirk growing on his face.
“As if I’d sleep with you willingly,” you scoff.
A boisterous laugh is what you get from Lando, who tilts his head towards you, “Come on, I’m a good-looking bloke.”
“And I’m sure I’ve seen much hotter man,” you sing, but you just can’t remember when. So deciding to block out what Lando is rambling about, you pull out your phone to message someone who has the answer for you.
To lily m + kika: can you tell me someone who is hotter than lando? From lily m: alex From kika: pierre To lily m + kika: ew, be serious please From kika: what about the guy with the accent, from hungary? From lily m: the doctor? To lily m + kika: i think she meant the reporter From lily m: god no he was a creep From lily m: what about the surfer? From kika: oh yeah he was cute too To lily m + kika: i need someone hot, pleaseee From lily m: THE MODEL FROM MILAN From kika: WITH THE ABS From kika: and also porche From lily m: BUT ALSO THE ABS To lily m + kika: okay thanks To lily m + kika: love you guys
Getting lost in the conversation, with the aid of your ambition to prove yourself right and, naturally, Lando wrong, you don’t realise that he’s actually driven you back to his apartment instead of a bar or literally some other place that sells alcohol in that ungodly hour.
“This isn’t a bar.” You point out, eyebrows furrowed.
Lando dignifies your comment with a scoff, “Well aren’t you quite the detective?”
Crossing your arms across your chest, you basically hiss at him this time, “This is basically kidnapping.”
Lando glances at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “Kidnapping? Really? I thought we were just catching up.”
You shoot him a sarcastic look, but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “Yeah, sure. Catching up in the middle of the night at your place.”
He parks the car and turns to face you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Well, here’s my proposal. I’ll go to my apartment and you’re free to either join me or drive my car back to Daniel’s – I’ll come pick it up tomorrow.”
You hesitate for a moment, considering your options as you watch Lando give you an assuring smile and handing you the keys before getting out of the car. Going back to your brother's place doesn't sound all that appealing, and Lando's offer, as questionable and a bad idea as it may be, seems like the lesser of two evils. Though, there is also the reality that if when you go up to his apartment, you’re probably going to do something that either you or your friends will regret tomorrow morning. Watching Lando’s retreating figure move further into the apartment building, you think, fuck it, it’s fine.
So, you wait for a few minutes, anxiously twirling the car keys in your hand to make him wait – but you’re pretty sure it makes you suffer just as much. You take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and then climb out of the car. Locking it behind you, you follow Lando into the building. The familiar scent of his cologne hits you as you step into the elevator, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you. The elevator ride going up to the second floor is pure torture, and it leaves you squirming in your place the whole time. Basically throwing yourself out of the elevator once it lands on the second floor, you realise that Lando has been waiting for you, standing and smiling at his door.
He gives you a teasing look as you approach, clearly amused by your slightly dishevelled state. “Took you long enough,” he remarks, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. But instead of saying anything or retorting back, you quietly follow him inside his apartment. Lando closes the door behind you, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. The dim lighting casts a soft glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. The first thing that catches your eye is the helmet collection he keeps in the living room. Without saying anything, you quickly make your way over to the shelves that display the helmets, trying your best to avoid his approaching footsteps behind you. The familiar design of a particular helmet has you instinctively tracing the number at the top, and the arms that hug your waist from behind makes you freeze for a moment. Lando's touch is both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions you thought were long buried.
“That's from Monza, 2021,” he says, his voice close to your ear. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.
You clear your throat, attempting to regain composure. “I remember,” you reply, your fingers still lingering on the helmet.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the present hangs in the air. Lando breaks the silence, his voice low and measured. “I wasn't sure you'd actually come up.”
You turn to face him, meeting his gaze, but don’t attempt getting out of his arms. “I didn't think so either.”
Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leans in, his lips brushing against yours. It's a tentative touch, a testing of waters, and you find yourself responding to the familiarity of the kiss. The taste of the past lingers, and for a moment, it's as if the years haven't passed. But reality crashes back in, and you pull away, the distance now a necessary boundary. Lando looks at you, a mix of emotions playing on his face. There's longing, regret, and an unspoken acknowledgment of the complexities that bind you.
“I thought we could just catch up,” he says, his tone a mix of apology and yearning.
You turn in your place, facing him. “Catching up was never our strong suit, was it?”
“Not really,” Lando shakes his head, “no.”
You bite down on the corner of your lip, threading your fingers through his curls as you pull his face down to meet yours as you rise on your tiptoes, “It’s a bad idea, right?”
Lando lets out a supportive hum as he lets his lips softly brush against yours, “The worst.” And maybe he should have been the gentleman and pull away, but when he sees your eyes closing, he just leans in further to press his lips against yours – and the way you respond to his kiss? It's as if the world outside ceases to exist. The kiss deepens, each brush of his lips against yours reigniting a long-buried flame. Lando's hands find their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, erasing the physical space between you.
You don’t complain as he pulls you towards his bedroom, or when he gently throws you on his bed, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. As he hovers over you, the weight of the past and the intensity of the present converge. His hands trace the contours of your face, memorizing every curve as if committing it to memory. And when the two of you get lost between each other within his sheets, the only thing that ends up coming from your mouth is either his name, or some sort of encouragement to keep him going. After he manages to wear you out, Lando decides that you’re definitely not going anywhere as he wraps you in his arms around you. The room is filled with the soft sounds of breaths syncing, hearts beating in tandem. Lando's fingers draw absent patterns on your skin while you check the messages that have accumulated in your phone. The glow of your phone illuminates the dim room, creating a subtle contrast to the warmth that envelops you. Lando's presence beside you adds an extra layer of comfort, a silent acknowledgment of the shared intimacy that unfolded moments ago.
From danny: please tell me you didn’t get kidnapped by the organ mafia From danny: wink twice if you’re alive From danny: this is not funny, where are you? From danny: fine i’ll ask alex to ask lily
Rolling  your eyes before sending him a text to let your brother know you’re okay, you decide to turn your attention to the group chat with Lily and Kika.
From kika: did you get home safe? From lily m: daniel is pretty stressed about it From lily m: please for the love of god tell us you’re home and not with lando right now To lily m + kika: omg just calm down i’m in bed To lily m + kika: and i’m going to sleep To lily m + kika: love you guys
You catch a glimpse of Lando’s grin over your shoulder as you click your phone off, but he only chuckles as he buries his face into your neck as he leaves small kisses to the skin there. “Well, I’m not lying, I just didn’t specify where I was.”
“Or in whose sheets,” his laugher gets louder as you jokingly slap him on the arm, “go to sleep, honey, we’ll be tired in the morning.”
And it might’ve been a bad idea to message him in the first place, but it certainly doesn’t feel like one.
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sadhours · 3 months
Note
Maybe one where she and Steve are arguing and as they get home and get in the shower together they're still arguing and then they start fucking while arguing and they move it to the bed and keep on.. sorry I'm high lol
i’m drunk, i can work with this.
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steve harrington x fem!reader
cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, jealous!steve, shower sex, dirty talk, name calling
“so, me talking to a man means i want to jump in his bed?” you ask, voice raised an octave as steve fumbles with his keys. he scoffs, stops mid keytwist as he turns towards you a stern expression.
“that’s not what I’m saying and you know that,” he argues, unlocking the deadbolt and shoving his key in the doorknob.
“well, then, dumb it down for me, Steve because it sure sounds like your saying that,” you reply, voice dropping in condescension.
steve pushes the door open with such force that you have to extend your fist to stop it from slamming in your face. he stomps to the bedroom with you hot on his trail. he tosses his keys and wallet on the dresser, kicking off his Nikes and starts unzipping his members only jacket. he looks at you under his broad brows, brown eyes set on you and fiery with his frustration.
“communication, Stevie,” you sing, “that’s the only way we’re gonna get anywhere!”
you untie your heels, tossing them to the foot of the bed once you get them off your feet, looking at him expectantly.
“listen,” he sighs, hands extended like he’s trying to calm you down but it only ignites the low flame of annoyance, sparking it with fuel that makes you laugh, all sarcastic and mean. “i’m not saying you wanted to fuck him, i’m saying he wanted to fuck you and maybe, just maybe, you liked the attention.”
“oh!” you laugh again, following him as he trails to the bathroom, “now I’m so desperate for attention! isn’t that a fucking you problem?! maybe i wouldn’t be so desperate for it if i was getting enough.”
Steve leans over the tub to start the faucet, pulls the lever to transfer the stream to the shower head. he looks frustrated, like you really aren’t seeing his side of things and starts to undo his jeans. shoves his jeans down to his knees and kicks them off. rubs his hand against his sharp nose a couple of times and shakes his head, looking at you with wide eyes.
“i played one game of pool with a buddy! i give you loads and fucking loads of attention!” he raises his voice at the end, hands going to the hem of his polo and he pulls it up and over his head.
you eyes fall on his chest hair, unable to stop yourself amidst a relatively heated argument. he looks fucking hot standing there in his underwear and you kind of hate him for it. so you try to even the playing field, shuck off your skin tight dress and undo your bra. Steve’s eyes drop to your tits, as expected and you feel like you gained a point.
he recovers quickly, shoves his hand under the spray to test the water temperature. shucks his briefs off and steps into the shower, closing the curtain but you caught a quick glimpse of his cock and balls. makes you quickly lose your thong and jump in behind him in the shower, moaning low at the heat of the water.
“i want your attention all the time,” you settle for as you push past him to hog the warm water.
“not exactly doable but,” he grunts as he pushes against you, “that’s sweet.”
“stevie,” you whine as you lean against him, feeling his cock start to fill out against your asscheeks. “i wasn’t flirting with that guy.”
“i know,” he mumbles, moving his hands to grab your hips as his lips find the skin just beneath your ear, “but you’re a fucking knockout. no way he didn’t want you.”
“he can’t have me,” you reply, tilting your head to give him better access, “only you can.”
Steve groans lowly against your neck, “you’re damn fucking right.”
“so why do you get so jealous?” you ask as you tilt your head back, welcoming his greedy kisses against your neck. his hands move to cup your breasts, squeezing as he grinds up into you.
“‘cause fuckin’ look at you, baby,” he mumbles in between sloppy kisses.
“i’m yours, stevie,” you remind him, moaning softly as he sucks a sizable bruise on the side of your throat. you reach behind to grab his cock, pointing his head as your entrance, sure he can feel the way you’re dripping arousal. “only you can do this to me,” you promise.
unexpectedly, steve grabs your hips and plants you against the shower tiles, lines his cock up with your hole and sinks in. groaning lowly in your ear as your cunt clenches around him and you moan out loudly.
“think you like making me jealous,” he grunts out, lips still pressed to your ear, hands still firm on your hips as he thrusts roughly into you, “think you like how i fuck you after.”
he’s telling the truth, you love steve for how tender and sweet he is but when he’s got some fire in him, he fucks you so good it makes you see stars. he moves his hand up your back, presses so your chest is flush against the cold tiles. hammers his hips into you two times, pointed and harsh. the head of his cock hitting against the golden spot inside you so deliciously, you’re moaning uncontrollably.
“huh?” he grunts again, “s’that true? like it when i treat you like a slut?”
“Steve,” you whine, hands flat against the shower wall, pushing your ass back at him. he thrusts again, pinning you against the wall and holding you there. cock unmoving and it’s torture.
“what?” he pouts, “big, tough girl can talk to strangers at the bar but can’t admit she wants her boyfriend to fuck her like a slut?”
“i like it, yes,” you babble out the confession, trying to wiggle back against him but his hips don’t budge. he’s stronger than you, physically and mentally.
“what? you like what?” he asks, grabbing your wrists and holding them against the wall.
“steve…” you whine again and he laughs, all cruel and loud against your ear.
“i play your game,” he says, “you can play mine. so say it, and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”
you moan and writhe against the tiles, not wanting to give in. you want to push steve, want to make him break. get some of the power back here but it’s all too heady and his cock feels so good sheathed as deep as it’ll fit but you ache for movement. you give in, on the possibility he’ll give you what you want— what you need.
“i like when you treat me like a slut,” you admit, turning your face to look at him. his eyes darken as they meet yours and his lips curl up. he thrusts, gives you what you want but it’s so slow and deliberate. teasing and mean. drags a dissatisfied whine from your lips and steve thrusts forward harshly, quick and deep. prods at that spot so deep inside, the one only steve can reach.
“you’re lucky i like it, too,” he tells you and then he picks up the pace, keeps a steady rhythm. your eyes roll back as the head of his cock hammers against your g-spot. pushes these repetitive uh-uh-uh’s from you. his hands release your wrists, his left grabs hold of your hip and his right comes up to grip your throat, not too tightly and gives him the leverage to tilt your head back. covers your mouth with his in a sloppy, filthy open mouthed kiss. fucks you ruthlessly against the shower tiles.
“you’re my little cockslut,” he says between kisses, “all fucking mine.”
his words make that coil in your stomach tighten quicker and quicker. he doesn’t stop. steve can’t shut up when his cocks inside your tight, sopping cunt.
“aren’t you? my slut, huh?” he drills into you, the water cascading over your bodies only making the slapping sounds of your skin meeting that much louder. “and you fucking love being my slut, don’t you, baby?”
“yes, steve— fuck, i’m your little slut,” you babble, bouncing against him and the wall.
“my dirty little slut,” he pants, “such a good slut, just for me.”
steve gasps, pushes you up against the wall again, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises and jackhammers into you. god, it’s almost too much, each time his cock slams into your sweet spot your eyes roll back and your mouth hangs open, unabashedly moaning for him. coil tightening and threatening to snap at any second, your voice cracking on the moans, getting higher and higher in pitch. it’s your tell. steve knows you’re close, knows your body better than you do.
he groans lowly, “cum for me, dirty girl. cum all over my cock.”
you wail as it hits you, body seizing in his grip as he fucks you through it. drags every bit of it out of you. you struggle to hold yourself upright, the orgasm spending you almost immediately but steve’s not too far behind. you can tell by the way he’s panting and whining in your hear.
“my fucking— hnng, my fucking dirty little slut,” he whines and then thrusts one last time, deep and hard as he spills inside you. his lips find your cheekbone, kissing tenderly as his orgasm washes over him. little moans vibrating against your face. then he’s slipping out of you and you already miss the warmth and fullness only he can give you. he turns you around, wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.
after the pair of you catch your breath, you continue the shower. taking turns washing each other’s hair and bodies, exchanging sweet words and kisses. the waters gone cold but it’s fine, steve warms you up when you finally crawl under the sheets, clinging to you tightly and kissing your face, neck and collarbone.
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kinopio-writes · 2 months
Note
Hi! Would you be willing to write something for Adam with a sensitive reader?
Everyone knows that he is loud-mouthed jerk, even reader, and she loves him regardless, but one day he crosses the line and says something particularly mean that makes her cry. Like REAL mean. To the point that he pauses because he did not think before speaking (or, well, less than usual lol)
I'm happy with whatever format you feel like using! Thank you!
A/N: I will be more than delighted to write that for you. But would you excuse me for a moment? AHHHHHHDISJDIOEOFJSKXJND—I’m sorry; I love this idea so much. Reading ‘Adam with a sensitive reader’ got me hooked instantly. But I’ll go over that in the headcanons, along with the general stuff. And I’ll add a oneshot at the end that plays the exact scenario of Adam taking it too far.
Holy sh!t. I made it so that the reader being sensitive is their greatest but also weakest point and it turned out pretty angsty. Has a bit of hurt/comfort, though. Did I go overboard? Maybe. That’s why it took so long. Sorry, anon.
Words: 2,328 (edited the end a bit because it didn’t sit right with me)
Warnings: Sex is mentioned (only a bit, surprisingly), Angst, Adam being Adam
———
Adam w/ a Sensitive!Reader
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• ha, this man is also sensitive himself
• well, sensitive about himself
• he feels his own emotions strongly, so he’s not the caring, easily able to pick up on other’s feelings and empathize type of sensitive
• you, on the other hand, are on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to Adam
• so you experience other people’s emotions just as strongly as yours
• you easily know what makes someone tick
• you’re selfless
• you’re able to admit your mistakes and apologize
• you’re respectful and actively listen to people when they talk about themselves
• you don’t push people down to make yourself seem better
• you try to make everyone feel good and comfortable
• you’re everything he isn’t
• because you fit in Heaven perfectly
• you deserve to be there
• and Adam knows that he doesn’t belong (subconsciously at least)
• you’re able to draw people in just for being yourself
• and he’s envious of it
• so he demeans you and is snarky about everything you do, and every time people give you praise or affection, he tries to divert the attention to himself or just stares at you with utter hatred from afar
• although all of that is just when he hasn’t even had a conversation with you
• after a while of being around you, he’ll cling to you because you give him the reassurance and validation he oh-so craves (he acts as if he didn’t hate you before. What do you mean? You two were always buddy-buddy!)
• you acknowledge all of the things he puts his worth to
• heck, you hang out with him—you sometimes even initiate it—willingly, and you’re genuinely interested in everything he has to say
• but he‘ll only hang out with you where no one recognizes you (so you don’t get all the attention)
• terrible transition here, but he notices that you mimic people’s expressions often
• he definitely makes fun of you for it
• and also mocks you
• up until he realizes that you do the same thing to him, too
• which is fine and all, if only you didn’t do that when he’s upset
• well, you mimic him when he’s joyous as well, but he (already subconsciously) expects you to. I mean, why wouldn’t you? He’s fucking hilarious!
• so you copying his negative emotions just stands out more
• and he…doesn’t like it
• that’s only really what he doesn’t like about you
• and the fact that you hog all the attention
• and the fact that people see you as perfect…
• buuut what happens when he gets to see a new side of you that isn’t exactly upholding that image?
———
Your phone lit up from your bedside table, brightening your otherwise dark room along with the soft glow of your halo. You only moved your eyes to the light, not wanting your tears to spill and dampen your pillows.
You had an inkling as to who was texting you this late—if the fact that your phone lighting up several times in the span of 5 minutes had anything to say.
When the texts stopped pouring in after a few seconds, you heavily sighed, wings ruffling. You resisted the urge to rub your face as you went to grab your phone.
HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) HEY (2:34) ARE YOU UP? (2:35) I’M BORED (2:35) GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE (2:36) IF YOU’RE UP (2:37) ARE YOU? (2:38) DID I TELL YOU THAT BITCH WITH THE HUGE TITS GOT FIRED TODAY? (2:39)
Figured. Of course, it was Adam. He was the only person you knew who’d be awake at this ungodly hour. And the only person you knew who’d disturb your peace if it meant curing anything that ailed him. Which was now about boredom, it seemed.
You read a few of his texts displayed on your lock screen before tapping one of the notifications and opening the app, scanning the rest of the unread messages.
Adam was going on about ‘that bitch with the huge tits’—her name was Tiffany, you were sure—and how she was rumored to have slept with an archangel to assume higher authority. He also went on to complain about how he didn’t have the chance to bed her anymore since she was basically deemed an outcast and that he couldn’t be seen with someone like her.
You frowned, not believing any of it, but you didn’t have time to think about it enough when he began typing again.
SO YOU’RE AWAKE (2:43)
You barely finished reading the new message when another one popped up.
DON’T IGNORE ME BITCH (2:43)
You frowned deeper, quick to type out a reply.
i’m not (2:43) i was just reading your texts (2:43) don’t worry (2:43) i’ll be there soon (2:44)
When he stopped typing, you placed your phone back on the nightstand, sitting up on your bed as you carefully wiped away your teary eyes. You hugged yourself for a moment, wings functioning as a cocoon while a hand tugged on your hair.
Today had been draining—both mentally and emotionally. Just like the day before, and the day before that. But you didn’t want to think about it, lest you start to cry some more and smear your face with tears this time. What mattered was that everyone was back on their feet again.
Since you didn’t bother changing into your sleepwear when you got home, you only checked your face in the mirror to see if your eyes were puffy or not. You then took in deep breaths, holding up your drooping wings before putting up a charming smile.
You couldn’t stay in the bathroom for long, quickly leaving to tread the path to Adam’s.
•••
“BOO!” Adam’s masked face suddenly peeked from the corner of his hallway, earning an indescribable scream from you as you jerked back. He burst out laughing, brows creased in confusion but also amusement. He couldn’t even make fun of you for getting scared. “What the—what the fuck was that scream?”
Recovering rather quickly as you blinked, you only smiled at him. You were expecting him to wait for you on his couch as his front door was left unlocked, but you weren’t complaining; his action took away any drowsiness you just had.
When Adam didn’t hear you laugh with him, his laughter subsided as he opened his eyes to look at your face. He raised his brows and placed the back of his hands on his hips. “What’s up with you?”
Shit. There was no way Adam was seeing through you.
“Nothing; I just love hearing you laugh.” You heard a tiny squeak in response. “Anyway, what did you make me come over for? Surely not just to scare me.” You moved past Adam and tightly crossed your arms, entering his spacious living room.
“Pshh, fuck no. You’re so easy to spook. Though that was a first. Didn’t know you could hit high notes, (Name).”
You didn’t know what to say to his…compliment? And sort of insult? Was it really either of them? Should you thank him? But in a sarcastic way? No, you weren’t known for being sarcastic, so he might think you were being genuine and look at you weirdly. And it would also seem highly egotistical.
Not as if Adam had much to say about that…
You tugged at your hair when you caught yourself with those thoughts. Shit, that’s so rude! You can’t think that! You shouldn’t think that!
You settled on an awkward chuckle, making yourself appear smaller as you averted your eyes to his TV space.
It was different, certainly. The modular couch pieces were rearranged into a pit sectional. And it looked as though he had chucked a bunch of pillows and one large blanket as an afterthought. It appeared messy, but at least it looked cozy.
“What’s this?”
“Hm? Oh, well, since you were taking your sweet ass time coming here, I thought to switch things up a bit.” You flinched when his head appeared right on your shoulder. “What’d ya think?”
“It looks super comfy.” Adam wore a goofy grin behind you as you walked closer to the area and noticed that he already prepared snacks on the low table. “Is this a way to say you wanna do a movie marathon?”
“You know it, baby.” He flew past you and landed on the sofa, patting the space beside him with a smile you just couldn’t reject.
•••
Heaven’s natural light beginning to peek through the open windows indicated that it was already dawn. Thank goodness you didn’t have work today.
You two—or rather, Adam—had settled on watching the film series, Die Hard. Every single one. You didn’t mind, but you didn’t understand why Adam invited you over if you two were just going to rewatch the film series for the eighth time.
He had also been pretty immersed in the large screen in front of him, so he hadn’t attempted to converse with you ever since the first movie started. In all honesty, he could have just watched them all by himself.
But you didn’t question it. This time was the same as the last seven, after all. You always concluded that maybe he just wanted someone to watch movies with, no talking necessary. Even if the no-talking part sounded a bit out of character.
Was it though? Because he did that quite often. For instance, he constantly brought you along to whatever mundane errands he had to do during the weekdays and never really talked with you unless he found something cool and pointed it out.
Although, the earlier times you tagged along with him on his errands, he kept yapping his mouth off about the ‘totally awesome’ things he does. He talked about music, his own albums, his band, women, sex, and himself as the first-ever man.
As time went on, however, the talking was replaced with silence. You wondered if he just ran out of things to say or if he found it unnecessary to talk anymore.
You also sometimes wondered what was going through his head when he thought you didn’t see him glancing at you while he was doing something he believed was boring.
The sound of Adam’s stomach rumbling broke you out of your train of thought.
You both looked at each other blankly as if either of you were to blame.
He blinked to break the eye contact between you. “(Name), I’m hungry.”
You snorted, facing ahead. “You ate all of our snacks before the first movie even finished.”
“Don’t blame me.” He hugged the pillow he held tighter. “I’m still fuckin’ hungry, though.”
You hummed as you reached for your pocket. “Do you want me to—oh. I…I forgot my phone.” You frowned. You never forget to bring your belongings.
Adam merely stared at you, unblinking.
You averted your eyes and held your legs tighter. “Uhm, We could get delivery if you want. Can you lend me your phone?”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He casually tossed you the device before laying on his back and looking up at you. “I’m down for anything.”
His phone hit your knee before you could catch it, silently landing on the cushions. “Are you sure?” You picked it up, opened his unlocked phone, and stared at his basic home screen.
He didn’t really use his phone that often to know that it could be changed. He only really used it to fetch one-night stands or occasional dates, text, play music aloud, look at outdated memes, take random blurry photos, and right now, order delivery.
“Totally.” His crow’s feet displayed on his mask as he puffed out his cheeks.
“Because last time you said that, you didn’t like what I had to pick.”
“That’s because the 5 ʼn 2 is so fucking overrated!” he suddenly started to complain. Your wings ruffled. “Jeez, I swear, every fuckin’ time I take a chick out and ask her what her favorite eatery is, basic bitches always go, ‘Oh, bREaD & fIsH, ceRTAinLy’ or ‘bReAD & FiSh’S a cLAsSIC’” He used his hand as a puppet to imitate their words before waving it. “Like, helloooo? Can’t you see the joint that’s literally on the other side of the street’s a hundred times superior? It’s cheaper, too, unlike Bread & Fish. Overpriced ass. You get me, right—?”
“Then you pick!” Adam jumped at your volume, and your eyes widened upon noticing yourself. You quickly gave back his phone as you turned your face away from him, and he slowly took it with a weird look.
“Shit, chill, (Name). The fuck’s up your ass?” He kept his gaze on you before turning to his phone.
While he was serious about his opinions of your bland tastes, he didn’t think it was that personal. Your preferences were the same as everyone else and that was boring. He was just being honest. And you usually didn’t take the things he said that seriously.
“Adam, I’m sorry,” you spoke up after a moment of silence and ran a hand through your hair. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“ʼs not a problem.” He was still a bit weirded out, but he was willing to shrug it off.
You insisted, however, “I mean it. I’m not mad at you.”
“Okay…?” he muttered when he saw a notification pop up from Lute. Her message consisted of how some of the exterminators got into a quarrel during roll call and the ones involved got injured in the process. She said she was going to discipline them.
Adam did not want to know what she meant by that and was most likely not going to stop by their place today.
“Really. I’m not. Sorry. It’s just that yesterday’s been…”
“Uh-huh…” At this point, Adam was not listening to anything you were saying. But when he still heard the static noise that was your words, he groaned. “Look, sweetie, I really don’t give a fuckin’ shit about your fuckin’ apology, ʼkay? I don’t fuckin’ care. Now what do you want?”
You saw Adam’s confused yet concerned expression after he looked up from his phone and immediately noticed that you were starting to cry. You instantly turned your face away as you carefully wiped your eyes.
“Sorry. Sorry. I’m not crying because of you.” You didn’t know if that was true. You didn’t know if you were crying because of his words or were crying because of everything else.
That was the first time he ever used a sweet petname for you in a long time. He only ever used that to demean or mock other people.
Shit. Stop thinking—you were going to cry more. But even after carefully wiping your eyes away, new tears kept flowing. You couldn’t stop. This was humiliating. You wanted to disappear. You didn’t want anyone to witness you in this state. It was mortifying.
“Shit.” Adam’s voice came out panicky as he held his hands out towards you, but he hesitated. Hesitated in what, he didn’t even know.
He…didn’t think you could cry.
Adam didn’t know what to do; this emotional shit wasn’t his thing. He couldn’t ask you to leave, he knew that much, but he didn’t want to leave himself. This was his place. Why should he leave?
So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation.
You suddenly felt something warm envelop you.
You didn’t look up, but you knew it was Adam. You could feel the texture of his robe on your hands and the side of your face. You could feel his hands on your shoulder blade, but you couldn’t quite feel his arms on you.
You stopped wiping your eyes for a moment.
No one had ever hugged you before when you were sad.
No one had ever let you be sad.
Adam heard you sob.
Fucking great. He made it worse. What the fuck was he supposed to do then?
But when he went to unwrap his arms, he felt yours slip around his midsection, pulling him closer than before as he grunted from your firm hold.
So you wanted to be hugged? Alright. Whatever.
Adam slowly hugged you back after you muttered a ‘sorry’ and loosened your grip.
The next seconds were silent, so when he heard muffled words coming from you, he looked down. You also looked up moments later when he didn’t respond, realizing he must’ve not heard you.
Your gaze softened as you two held eye contact, and with teary eyes, you smiled. “Thank you, Adam.”
Something about his expression changed, but before you could stare any longer, you felt a hand behind your head push you back to his chest as the arm on your back held you tight.
“Yeah, whatever…”
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tender-rosiey · 1 year
Note
aww nanami’s daughter who’s very possessive of her mama is so cute she definitely got it from her dad need more of her
sneaky lovey — nanami kento x f!reader
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your daughter was kind of mischievous. you don’t know where did she get it from, but you have a feeling that it’s from her uncle gojo whom she has spent a lot of her weekends with.
it’s cute really, especially when she seems to be driving her dad crazy with her little pranks. after all of that, he still loves her, of course, but he hopes that she would understand that his stress levels don’t need to be any higher.
he also hopes that she learns how to share, especially share your attention and affection.
nanami is a mature man, so he can’t help but let her hog you all to herself whenever she goes, “daddy! I want mommy! that’s enough time for you.”
and who is he to deny her your love?
but in the end, he still is a man who is so very in love you and naturally craves your attention as well.
that leads to you guys to trying to sneak a few kisses here and there along with a bunch of hugs like a couple of teenagers in love.
you find it funny.
the way that your husband awaits any moment that your daughter isn’t there to press a kiss to your lips and have his arms around you.
he looks like a baby that had his toy taken away for way too long and it is so cute. you don’t mind voicing that out and you laugh softly when he sighs about how he just wants time with you.
on the other hand, he doesn’t find it funny.
one moment, he is kissing you and the other you’re being dragged by your daughter to draw with her.
she can not for the life of her let her dad get a second with his beautiful wife.
another example is when one day, you had sent her to her uncle gojo cause she had missed him.
nanami was low-key over the moon and refused to leave your side, leaving kisses on your hand, cheek, and forehead whenever given the chance.
“kento, you’re pretty affectionate today.”
“mm, just missed you, love.”
it was utter bliss, especially when you guys got to cuddling and reading a book together.
and don’t get him wrong, he loves his daughter very much, but he also loves you and it was finally his y/n time.
he enjoyed while it lasted which wasn’t enough to him but like nanami you spent at least 9 hours together what.
the little miss stole you for herself the moment she came home.
she also invited you both for tea in her little toy house, but had nanami put on make up, a crown, and a skirt and go drink tea alone in a corner.
when he asked her why, she just went, “you’re supposed to be the pretty maid so wait until you get ‘i am becoming a princess’ arc.”
the arc never came.
another thing is that nanami finds it bizarre that you wonder where the hell did her mischief come from.
there is no way that it isn’t innate and it is obvious when he looks at both of you, particularly right now.
these smirks and puffed out chests of pride and your shared giggles are full-proof. you had just done a harmless prank on your poor husband and he just stared at you both, unable to form a response to this bullying anymore.
“(d/n), i need to talk to mommy about something so that okay?”
“oh okay! good luck, mommy!”
oh that traitor. probably learned it from uncle gojo.
“y/n.”
“yes, my dear and handsome husband?” you say in hopes in flattering him.
he gets up and stands right in front of you. he looks at you, “what was so funny about putting a gojo-patterned tie in my closet?”
you nearly bend over laughing when you recall what you did, but you compose yourself.
your husband isn’t pleased.
“you will have to repay me for that,” he says and you pout.
“how exactly will I do that, my lovely kento?”
he takes a hold of your hand and takes you to the bedroom with a smile, “an uninterrupted night with me.”
you chuckle and ask, “cuddles and kisses?”
“and more if you want; I am all yours.”
in the end, nanami feels and knows that he will never want you guys to stop how you fill his life with colors and laughter.
“haha! dad, I drew on your face!”
or maybe he wishes it would be toned down a bit.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or i will bite you
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lydiimae · 27 days
Text
Home.
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
18+ MDI
Based on a request you can find here <3
Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother,
A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦
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He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.
Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.
The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.
The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.
A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.
You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.
"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.
You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.
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You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.
It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.
And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.
In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.
Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.
"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.
Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.
You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.
You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.
You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.
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Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.
She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.
"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.
She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.
Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.
You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.
A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.
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He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.
When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.
The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?
Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.
The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.
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The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.
You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.
"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.
He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.
You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.
You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.
You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.
You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.
It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.
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After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.
You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.
He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.
"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.
"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.
"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.
"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.
"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.
He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.
"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.
Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.
He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.
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After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.
You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?
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You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.
Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.
You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.
You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.
"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.
"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.
He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.
He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.
He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.
"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.
He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.
He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.
"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.
He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.
He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.
Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.
Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.
"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.
He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.
You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.
"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.
"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.
You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.
He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.
He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.
You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.
You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.
You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.
The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.
He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.
That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.
After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.
"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.
Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.
You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.
He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.
Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.
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2-dsimp · 22 days
Note
Ok so everyone and their mother has yandere CEO/ boss x a secretary/assistant/intern blah blah blah
BUT! Hear me out...what and a yandere assistant x boss darling??
Cw: slight blood/gore, obsessive/possessive tendencies, self-sabotage, lack of self worth,
Synopsis: 【You are the overseer in charge of the finance floor of the company SupeCo. And you happened to be issued a brand you employee who was albeit a greenhorn. But nonetheless passionate in preforming his duties as your assistant. You’ve in the short couple days you’ve grown a soft spot for him. And constantly prayed that he’d make it through his job, in one piece since you discovered that he tended to be accident prone.】
☆*:.。..。.:*☆ ☆*:.。..。.:*☆ ☆*:.。..。.:
Yandere assistant! That’s always in attention whenever his darling boss is ready to put him to work. He’s practically twitching from getting withdrawals of receiving less than the amount of orders he’d like to have from you.
Yandere Assistant! Whose mind is buzzing 24/7 and is utterly pathetic all by his lonesome. And craves for you to throw whatever tasks you’ve got at him, anything at all, to satisfy his dream of being your personal lap dog.
Yandere assistant! Who loves hearing your voice calling out for his support from across the office hall. He just cannot relate to how his other coworkers cower at their names being announced by their own superiors. Since you were the best in his humblest opinion. And the only one he’d deem to be of importance to be more precise.
Yandere Assistant! That subtly does self sabotage if only to hog your time, in making you giving him lengthy instructions. On what to do since he clearly couldn’t fathom how to print out a piece of paper.
Yandere Assistant! Who swears that he’s not incompetent on purpose. But it’s just that he adores the way you’re so kind with your words. And oh so patient when it comes to correcting a member of your staff. Even going as far as to touch him to show exactly how to maneuver the printer. In short all of your lovely gestures made him jumpy. As he was sweating bullets trying not to turn into a feral degenerate and bend you over the broke ass printer to properly “use it”.
“Tem? Temothy~? Hello? I’m sorry Am I going too fast for you or—“
“Ah nonono absolutely not! Y-you’re fine B-boss I c-could hear you j-just fine!”
Your new hire assistant, Temothy, stuttered as he blinked out of whatever daydream he got afflicted with. Fixing you a mousy smile as he haphazardly fixed his messy overgrown bangs which obscured half of his face from view. You noted that He always had a soft spoken voice along with his habitual stutter speech pattern. Whilst he fidgeted a bit underneath your explicit worrisome expression as you fretted over his wellbeing like a mother hen.
“I only need to cut these stacks of paper for y-you with this cutter r-right? I’ll get on T-that right a-away!”
He managed in a squirrelly tone as he shakily grabbed ahold of the paper cutter. Lining up some blank pieces alongside the dotted lines with an unsteady hand.
It was his first couple days on the job and you found him to be quite the ditzy klutz but an endearing one nonetheless. It was refreshing how eager he is to always lend a helping hand even after he had just gotten off his shift. Which made you feel bad to ask him to come in to work when it was his day off since some of your employees decided not to come in for their shift.
“Wait Temothy dear you’re holding it the wrong way—!”
“Ouch! Oh my stars I’m t-terribly sorry B-boss! I got it all fuckin b-bloody! Ah paper towels… where’s the paper towels?”
You couldn’t believe your eyes and what you were hearing. Was this man seriously worried about how he dirtied the cutter station to which he earnestly tried to clean. While the skin on his palm was sliced open from pinky to thumb. And was bleeding rapidly as bloody rivets ran down his inner wrist.
“Temothy forget about the cutter and papers okay? You don’t need to worry bout none of that. What we need to do is patch you up first and foremost”
You cooed as you briskly took his uninjured hand in yours and ushered him to your office where you always had a health kit stored underneath your desk. Completely missing how his breathing slowed and his wide eyes dilated into small heart pinpricks.
“Y-yes Boss…thank you for c-caring I’ll be sure to return this d-debt”
His usual timid expression darkened into something more depraved as a small fanged smile made its way onto his chapped lips. Of which he licked as he gave an experimental squeeze to your hand only to shiver in delight when you responded back in kind.
No one had ever been this kind to him, due to his bad luck he’s always the type to be scoffed at without as much as a second glance. Hell it was a miracle that he even landed this job as your assistant in the first place. But now that he was here he intended to stay permanently and serve you for the rest of your days as your loyal assistant. Whether you liked it or not, you couldn’t ever get rid of him not when you’ve already gave him your hand to hold near in dear to his heart.
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
could you do something about how alastor gets jealous and how he shows it? Like what things would get him jealous and stuff like that and then how he would go about it? Thank you!
I guess I gotta- 🥵
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Alastor being a red flag, Wifey is into it even though she pretends not to be, A widdle suggestive
Description: ☝️⬆️
It doesn't take much to make Alastor jealous, he has a big ego to defend and doesn't like to share your attention
He also doesn't think a lot of people are worthy of your attention so that's a big part of it
Alastor is almost childish the way he acts out when he's jealous, it's painfully obvious even though he denies it every time
He sulks and acts out to get your attention back on him, doing anything he can to make you just look at him
He's rude and intimidating to anyone he thinks is flirting with you or trying to take you for themselves
After every incident, he tries to pretend like nothing happened and refuses to acknowledge his jealous streak
Can't people just understand that you're a married woman and that Alastor deserves all of your time???
Someone is talking to you and you're laughing too hard, cheeks a little too pink? Alastor is right there to sniff out any ill intention
"What's so funny, my dear? Surely you're not gossiping without me.."
He's wrapping a protective arm around you and kissing your cheek, eyeing the other person the entire time as he asserts his husbandly dominance over them
"Hm? Oh! He was telling me a funny joke about-"
Alastor takes a break from kissing your wrist and palm to snap his gaze to the other man, a wicked gleam in his eye
"Ohhhh! So you're a clown! Wonderful~! Your attire had me wondering what you do for a living, but now it all makes sense!"
The other person is visibly uncomfortable by your husband's unspoken challenge and backs out of the conversation with their tail between their legs
"I guess he had other things to do~"
You roll your eyes as Alastor nuzzles your neck, petting his around his ears and antlers
"You're are not a very subtle man, my dear."
You're dancing with someone who's not him? Alastor will physically shut that shit down
He spends maybe a full minute pouting and ignoring everyone else around him, eyes locked on you and your dance partner
"Alastor, are you even listening?"
"Out of all the women here, why did he choose MY wife? I walked away for one second, and he snatched her up!"
He doesn't care for how closely they're holding you, the way they blush and smile from your attention
Alastor isn't having it, striding over and using his hip to push the man away from you and off the dance floor, taking your hand
You're trying not to smile at him, pressing against your husband as you take his hand and dance with him
"Alastor, that was rude..."
He simply chuckles and spins you around happily, snapping his fingers to change the song into something more romantic
"I would say I'm sorry but we both know I'm not~ Besides, I waited for my chance to dance with you!"
It's hard to stay mad at him when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the world and holding you like you're something precious
It helps that he's so handsome, you can't help but lean up and steal a kiss from him, feeling familiar butterflies at the touch
"You've been dancing with me all night, and you barely waited a minute... you greedy demon~"
He leans into your hand as you cup his cheek, tail wagging from having your undivided attention again
"Is it a crime that I want to hog my darling wife? That I crave every opportunity to dance with her and steal the show?"
He's leaning in for another kiss, and it makes you instinctively move in closer to meet his lips
"It will be if you keep injuring people~"
And those are just some examples of people who weren't flirting with you, it's so much worse when someone actually wants you
You're waiting for your husband to meet with you for your date, dressed up and looking your absolute best
When you hear a sharp whistle from behind, only to see a sleazy looking demon towering over you and eyeing your body
"And just where do you think you're going looking like that, beautiful? My place is that way~"
He's much too close, placing a hand on the wall behind you in order to keep you from running, completely unaware of the danger he's in
You can't help but roll your eyes at the situation
"I'm flattered, really I am... but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for someone, actually."
You casually move out from under his arm, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkens as you fix your appearance
"Oh really? And just who might you be waiting for? Let me guess, your boyfriend?"
He doesn't look like he believes you, making air quotes around the word boyfriend
You can't help but laugh at the poor soul, putting a hand on your hip as you whip around to face him-
"Husband, actually~ My name is Alastor though maybe you'll recognize my other name! The Radio Demon~ Maybe you've heard of me?"
It's such a treat to watch the cocky demon lose his composure in fear and so sexy to watch your husband be the cause of it
The demon is so much larger than Alastor but he's practically cowering away from him, Alastor grinning at him as he tilts his head
"Look uh-I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"
Your husband tuts at the demon, antlers already growing as he morphs into his larger demonic form
You can't help but blush at how sweet Alastor is being, rushing to your rescue like this
"Didn't realize what? That you were hitting on my wife? You think I would just stand by and let you think you have a shot with her? She's much too far out of your league, unfortunately."
He's so cute when he's jealous
"Darling, do be quick with that? I don't want to miss our reservation-and no eating him! I don't want you to spoil your appetite!"
Alastor looks at you and visibly blushes at how good you look, the other demon simply an afterthought as he tears them apart
"My dear, you look absolutely ravishing~ How am I going to keep the other men from looking at you when you're so delectable?"
He's still humongous, a large claw reaching out to stroke your leg tenderly, a lovesick expression on his face
You can practically see the hearts in his eyes~ Smiling at your husband and blowing him a kiss
"It's a good thing that you're the only man I have eyes for then, isn't it?"
He shrinks back down to his normal size and kisses your hand before wrapping an arm around you as you two walk together
"It's something that I'm extraordinarily grateful for~"
You can't help but lean your head against him, letting him nuzzle the top of your head in an affectionate manner
"Though~ I wouldn't mind a refresher of just how much you adore me...~"
You can't help but snort at the comment, gently slapping his chest before pulling him in for a kiss
"Dinner first~ You'll need your strength~"
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I might go back and change this one a bit ngl
1K notes · View notes
goldsainz · 9 months
Text
THREE IS COMPANY — one shot.
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pairing: carlos sainz x reader x lando norris
MASTERLIST.
taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @mikasa140904
request: “Hello! So...perhaps a Carlando one? Hard launching with the drivers being shocked? 😂 Thanks for doing fun work!”
NOTE: i’ve had this request since april… i’m so sorry i’m just getting to it!! i hope you meant a throuple fic cause that’s what i did😭 anyway, carlando stays superior and unbothered. this is kinda short (and so unserious), but i hope it’s still good nonetheless 🫶
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 407,926 others
yourusername when you and i were forever wild
view all 6,118 comments
ynfan1 oh.
ynfan2 not a m*n stealing my wife🙄
kaliuchis te extraño bebe i miss you baby
⤷ yourusername yo másss me moreee
⤷ ynfan3 WHEN DID SHE LEARN SPANISH
landofan1 …lando?? hello??
ynfan4 she looks so so good
ynfan5 so who’s the lucky guy?
⤷ carlosfan1 and if is say it’s carlos then what
⤷ ynfan5 i’d say you’re delulu… but you do you, boo!
carlosfan2 CARLOS GET OUT OF HERE!!! LEAVE MY WIFE ALONE!!!
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liked by danielricciardo, maxfewtrell and 1,073,824 others
lando.jpg Mine.
comments are limited
yourusername alrighty then!
yourusername didn’t know we were hard-launching😭
⤷ lando.jpg Had to set the record straight 🤷‍♂️
carlossainz55 ❤️😂
danielricciardo HUH
danielricciardo HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS?!?!
⤷ lando.jpg I’m very good at keeping secrets
⤷ yourusername lies!!
⤷ carlossainz55 Lies 2.0
⤷ danielricciardo YOU GOT CALLED A LIAR TWICE🤣🤣
maxverstappen1 Happy for you 3! 🧡
alex_albon Great news for afternoon tea
⤷ yourusername tell lily to invite me next time
⤷ alex_albon No, you always hog her attention🙄
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liked by lance_stroll, carmenmmundt and 651,934 others
yourusername my boys
view all 9,781 comments
carlossainz55 Only yours, hermosa beautiful
⤷ yourusername los amo i love you
landofan31 i need at least a month to process this
carlosfan31 HELLO????
carlosfan32 carlando is real i can’t believe this
landonorris Oh, I look good😍
⤷ landonorris Carlos is there too! I hadn’t noticed…
⤷ yourusername you’re such a liar😭
⤷ carlossainz55 Say it to my face
landofan32 never getting over them
carlosfan33 SOME OF YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW ICONIC THIS IS
ynfan31 lost my wife to not one, but two men💔
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 2,035,827 others
carlossainz55 Mis amores ❤️ My loves ❤️
view all 30,538 comments
landonorris This is kinda cute
⤷ yourusername you’re literally blushing, don’t act tough
⤷ carlossainz55 You’re literally next to me and you’re all smiley??
landofan41 they just called me single in a hundred different languages
charles_leclerc Sending you all the love!
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 152,904 others
carlosfan41 Y/N IS SO CUTEE
landofan42 imma need them to stop with the cuteness i cannot take it anymore
lewishamilton 💜💜💜
⤷ yourusername I LOVE YOU LEWIS
⤷ landonorris Woah!
⤷ carlossainz55 Y/N, we talked about this🤣
landofan43 carlando being real still feels surreal
ynfan41 these are all my parents now. i don’t make the rules.
fernandoalo_oficial Felicitaciones a los tres! Congratulations to the three of you!
⤷ yourusername i cannot believe fernando alonso knows who i am…
⤷ carlosfan42 NOT Y/N BEING A FERNANDO FAN😭
1K notes · View notes
sassycheesecake · 10 months
Text
Osamu Miya x wife!Reader "The Green-Eyed Monster"
“What’s he doin’ here?” A very tired Osamu irritably asks, as he spots his twin brother bawling his eyes out in front of you on the dining table.
You turn to your husband with an apologetic look on your face.
“Tsumu’s girlfriend dumped him because he was moving too fast into the relationship for her liking.” You explain.
Osamu’s eyes find his brother’s slumped figure over the table, sighing heavily before mentioning you to follow him into your shared bedroom with a motion of his head.
“Atsumu, I will be right back okay?” You assure him, feeling bad that he barely acknowledges your words, his empty gaze with red eyes trained on his hot chocolate mug that you previously prepared for him.
Walking into the direction of your bedroom, you see Osamu already starting to undress out of his uniform, turning to you, as you walk in and close the door.
“(Y/N) this is now the third time he came over cuz some chick dumped ‘im. And it’s only been five months. Don’t let ‘im in every time just cuz he’s my brother and ya feel bad for ‘im.” Putting his dirty clothes in the hamper, he walks toward the closet, picking out fresh clothes to put on after his shower.
“I know you don’t like it when he comes over unannounced but Samu, I can’t help but try to cheer him up. You know that he has trouble maintaining friends and we live closest to him.”
Osamu sighs at your statement, being tired after a full day at his restaurant is making him more irritated than usual.
“I can’t even remember the last time we had sum time ta ourselves (Y/N). He’s always here, almost hoggin’ all of yer attention just cuz some meaningless fling decided ta dump his stupid ass.” His tone starts to get angry, taking his clothes to walk into the direction of the bathroom to take a shower.
Reflecting his words, you start to get a bit angry as well.
“Well what do you want me to do Osamu? Slam the door in his face? If I remember correctly when we first started dating, YOU were the one worried that Atsumu wouldn’t approve of me and NOW you’re telling me he is ‘hogging all of my attention’?! What are you? 5?”
Ignoring you, he walks past you and slams the door of the bathroom a little bit and you soon hear the shower running.
‘Sigh, the famous Miya temper.’
Rubbing your temples, you walk back into the kitchen to see Atsumu putting his mug into the sink, grabbing his jacket from the chair with a blank expression.
“You’re leaving already? Do you want to stay over?” You ask in a quiet voice.
He shakes his head, looking at you with a hurting expression.
“No. Wouldn’t wanna hog yer attention for more than necessary.”
So he heard your argument.
Before you can retort anything, a loud booming noise interrupts you first, along with a heavy pattern of rain against your windows.
The sudden noise makes you flinch and Atsumu looks outside to see the horrible weather.
Looking at the time, it’s already past 11 p.m.
“Come on Atsumu, I think it’s better if you stay over. Don’t mind what Osamu said, he’s just tired after work. It’s late and the weather is horrible. Just stay in the guest room, I don’t feel comfortable sending you on your way in this weather.” You try to convince him.
The blonde shrugs, very quietly saying ‘okay’ that you can barely hear it.
Stepping down to the familiar direction of the guest bedroom, Atsumu steps inside and you follow him in.
The Setter doesn’t even undress, just walks to the bed and lays down on it to stare at the ceiling.
You sit down on the side of the bed, talking to him in an almost motherly gentle voice.
“Atsumu don’t take what Osamu said too hard, you know how he is when he is extremely tired. And about that girl, I know it’s not my place to say but don’t you think you should heal properly first before jumping into the next relationship?”
The sandy-blond turns to his side with his back now facing you.
Sighing in defeat, you begin to get up when his rough voice interrupts your actions.
“(Y/N), do you think I will ever find someone like you and Samu found each other?”
Halting your actions, you sit down again.
“Well, I am sure you will find your soulmate eventually. I mean with me and Samu, we just met and it immediately clicked.” You smile as you recall the funny way you and Osamu met.
You were driving in your car on your way to work to ‘Colors Of The Wind’, which is a local art shop that sells art equipment and all different colors in different utensils.
Singing along to ‘River’ by Ed Sheeran and Eminem, you don’t see a spider slowly making its way over your dashboard, not having a care in the world.
When you are about to change the song, you see the little creature of hell getting closer to you.
Screaming in fear, you move your steering wheel, crashing right into a dark gray car, whose owner has the same metallic eyes and even darker hair.
Having a small fight over the damage, you explained to the good-looking stranger that you screamed over a spider and he laughed so hard that he had tears in his eyes.
Exchanging numbers to the repair of the damage, you stayed in contact and here you are today. Married for three amazing years already.
“Tomorrow will be a better day, okay? How about I make you some gohan along with yakizakana?” You suggest to Atsumu before you leave him be.
“Will ya also make yer vanilla puddin’?” The Setter mumbles back with a little gleam in his eyes when he turns a bit to watch you.
Giggling at his request like a shy little kid asking for his favorite ice cream, you agree to make your vanilla pudding as well that he loves so much.
“Good night Tsumu, try to sleep a little bit.”
“Night (Y/N).”
Leaving the room, you close the door and put the dishes in the dishwasher before returning to your bedroom where you know Osamu will be.
Slowly opening the door, you see your husband leaning against the headboard, a small frown decorates his usual carefree face.
When you enter, he starts talking without looking at you.
“Can ya sit down please?”
Following his request, you lay in bed with him, leaning against the headboard with your shoulder, so you face him sideways.
Taking a deep breath, he looks at you with deep apologetic eyes and also a small hint of hurt.
“Baby I’m sorry for the way I was actin’ earlier. It was childish and unfair. I love ya so much and I love the way yer takin’ care of my brother.”
“Then why were you so upset?” You ask in confusion.
Osamu looks away from you with a pout, mumbling something that you couldn’t make out.
You lean a bit closer.
“What was that?”
He turns his face back, staring at the ceiling, saying it again but louder.
“I was jealous over yer attention on ‘im. I had a shit day at work today and I just wanted yer cuddles and kisses. When I saw that scrub in the kitchen, it made me more mad. I shouldn't have let my anger out on ya. ‘M sorry baby.”
Smiling at his words, you come closer to your husband to give him comforting kisses along his cheeks.
Sighing in bliss he lets you do as you please.
Stopping right by his ear, you whisper seductively.
“Want some make up sex and then you can vent to me about your day?”
Osamu turns to you with an excited look, quickly pushing you down to lay on top of you.
Giggling in delight, you let the former Opposite Hitter ravish you half the night.
The next morning
The smell of steamed rice and cooked fish is what rips Atsumu out of his dream of defeating Thanos, stretching his limbs and rubbing his tired face.
Remembering that you cooked for him this morning, he gets up very excited like a kid getting to open Christmas presents early and almost sprints out of the room.
Quickly slamming on the brakes what he sees on the counter, his stomach begins to get nauseous at the open PDA between his twin brother and you.
You’re sitting on the counter and have your legs wrapped around Osamu’s waist, your arms crossed around his neck.
The ravenette’s hands rest on either side of your thighs, lips locked together with yours as your husband passionately makes out with you, unaware of his sandy-blond twin.
“Really? That early in the mornin’? That’s gross.” The Setter says in disgust as he leans against the kitchen frame.
Letting go of you, Osamu turns fully around to look at his brother, with you leaning over his shoulders and his neck to look at Atsumu with a flushed face.
“Well scrub, get yerself a girlfriend or boyfriend, then ya will have this too.”
“Fuck ya and yer happiness, Samu.”
“It ain’t my fault that I have the perfect woman and ya don’t. Yer shitty personality drives them all away.”
“Ya know what ya little shithead-“ you interrupt before it escalates into a physical fight like the last million times.
“Okay, okay enough. Let’s eat together. I am not ready to deal with this without food in my stomach.”
Hopping down from the counter, you see the twin brothers glaring at each other.
“Samu, Tsumu, stop it. I mean it.” You threaten them.
The ravenette snaps out of it, looking a little bit scared at your scowling face.
Atsumu claims the small victory in his head of the stare off and almost starts drooling at the sight of the food at the table.
Calming down, the three of you sit down and enjoy the food.
“Itadakimasu.” The three of you say in sync, digging in.
The Setter looks in bliss when he chows down the food, already in a lot better mood than last night.
“So, when are ya guys givin’ me nieces and nephews?” He asks with a teasing smirk.
Osamu starts to choke after that, with you shaking your head at Atsumu, padding your husband on the back and waiting for him to calm down.
Not even five minutes later, you hum as you clean the dishes, while ignoring your husband choking and fighting his brother over the comment over the table.
What can you say, if you marry one Miya brother, you’re automatically married to the second one.
@rukia-uchiha-98 @nerd-of-karasuno @wake-uptoreality @darthferbert
1K notes · View notes
theemporium · 6 months
Note
Can I request a 🧸 for Charlos and reader? Maybe both of them being obsessed with a newborn, but also taking care of the reader after birth, just being dads and boyfriends of the year?
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“He is perfect,” Charles whispered in a hushed voice as his fingers lightly tracing over the soft features of his son’s face.
“You’re just saying that because Pascale said he looks a bit like you when you were born,” you countered, though there was a smile on your face as you watched the boy pace around the living room with the baby in his arms, the baby that was barely a month old.
“Then he will grow up to be handsome,” Charles said with a playful glint in his eyes, one that only brightened when you both heard the Spaniard in the kitchen let out a noise of disagreement. 
You snorted.
“Kidding, mon amour!” Charles called out, his cheeks flushed a soft pinkish colour as his attention was quickly shifted back to the huffing baby in his arms, almost like little Julian Leclerc-Sainz knew the focus wasn’t on him anymore. “And I’m just kidding too, my prince.”
“You’re hogging him,” Carlos commented as he walked back into the living room, a tray of food in hand as he headed straight towards the couch where you were sitting.
“He’s your son, not a football,” you murmured, rolling your eyes. However, it was short-lived when you saw the array of foods laid out on the tray—foods that you weren’t able to eat while you were pregnant but craved through the whole nine months. “Oh.”
“The least you deserve,” Carlos murmured as he placed a kiss to your hairline before his arm wound around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. “The least we can do after you gave us so much.”
“You know I’m still a mess,” you murmured as you sniffled, though it was a little late for the tears already welling up in your lash line. 
“It’s cute,” Carlos commented with a huffed laugh as you nuzzled your face further into his chest, most likely wiping your tears on his shirt but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“But not as cute as you,” Charles cooed softly, grinning down at the small baby in his arms. “No, you’re the absolute cutest.”
“Way to make a girl feel special,” you joked lightly as Charles’ eyes found yours, a grin spread across his face.
“You, cherie, are the most beautiful woman on the planet and nothing will change that,” Charles stated it so simply, like it was just a fact of the world: the sky was blue, grass was green and you were the most beautiful person to ever exist.
Your cheeks burned but you smiled, nonetheless. “Maybe not right this second,” you joked, teasing and light-hearted but it made both boys frown.
“You look more and more beautiful every day,” Carlos told you as his fingers gripped your chin, pulling your face up so you could look at him. “And I think motherhood has only made you more beautiful.”
“You brought in the most perfect creation into the world,” Charles continued as he walked over to the couch, settling into the spot next to you despite little Julian happily dozing off in his arms. “Only someone just as perfect could do so.”
You felt your eyes get wet again. “You two are really ganging up on me to make me cry today.”
“And we will be here to wipe the tears too,” Carlos murmured as his thumb swiped a few stray tears before he placed another lingering kiss to your forehead.
.
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s-coquette · 4 months
Text
thinking about @charliemwrites mean ghost!!
charlie is literally one of my favourite writers on here, any thought™️ that crosses their mind makes me get brain worms. this is my first time writing anything like this so i hope it isn’t a complete disaster :,)
Johnny gets sent out on deployment without Simon for a couple weeks. This mission needing his demolitions expertise more than anything else. Leaving poor you to face Simon’s wrath alone.
While Johnny is home it’s easy to avoid him. Just hunker down next to the Scotsman and deal with his clingy and annoying self, anything but having to interact with the mammoth of a man.
He’d barely glance at you at first, leaving you to Johnnys care, having him bathe you, dress you, hold you, basically a small child with its new favourite doll.
You thought that the piercing gazes he sent you with his honey brown eyes were an indication of how much he hated you. Maybe you were getting too much of his boys attention? Were you hogging him? Were you acting out in some way that you hadn’t noticed? All of this made you extremely nervous to be in Simon’s presence, hearing him breathe next to you sent shivers down your spine.
The air was tense around you, the giant man in front of you made you feel like he was taking up all of the oxygen in the room. Casting a shadow over you from where he stood, a foot away.
“What’re you lookin’ at?”
The loud drawl of his Manchester accent and raw voice made your chest shake. You snapped your eyes back at him, realising you spaced out in fear. His arm, which was probably wider than your head, reached out behind you.
“Wh-“
A dawn of realisation fell on you when you heard a glass clink behind your head. You were standing there like an idiot while he was trying to grab a mug.
“I’m sorry-“
You slinked back to the other end of the kitchen, your pop tarts left on the counter next to him. It felt like poking the bear to even try to reach for them.
Simon’s eyebrow quirked in response, like he was waiting for something as you stared at him leaning against the marble countertops.
“I’m- I’m sorry, sir.”
You think you saw his lips curl up under the simple black balaclava when he heard the loud panicked inhale from you, in the addition of your eyes stinging with tears.
His eyes fell down to the opened bag of sweets you left on the counter, which you were munching on without even heating up. His sight then fell on you, chewing on your lip in fear while staring at the same thing.
“Y’want this?”
His calloused big fingers reached around and grabbed the pop tarts, throwing them up in the air unceremoniously and showing them off to you, like a forbidden fruit.
“N-Nevermind, I’m not hungry anymore-“
You tried to hurry out before his loud booming voice interrupted you.
“Hold on, you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
You freeze, slowing turning on your heels and staring at him.
“C’mere, kitty.”
You gulp and stare at him, his piercing stare making your hands shake.
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
His voice now cold, eyes narrowing. That was the only sign you needed to spring to action. Almost throwing yourself across the island, you stood in front of him again. The situation somehow even tenser than before.
“Now be a good kitty and meow for me, then you’ll get your treat.”
You could hear the smug smirk in his voice without even having to see it. A cold sweat washed over you as you thought about what to do to escape this situation.
“I’m listening.”
His tone warning again.
“meow..”
The little peep that left you seemed to give him great entertainment as you watched his eyes crinkles like he was grinning.
“I ought to teach you some manners since the mutt clearly can’t.”
You frowned at what he meant by ‘teach’, not even wanting to imagine it.
Your endless thoughts were interrupted by getting smacked in the chest with your unfinished bag of pop tarts, scrambling to grab at them before they fell on the floor.
“Now scram.”
And you did just that.
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yamujiburo · 4 months
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Another Meowth HC!
Meowth decides to have a little fun at Jessie’s expense and starts interrupting her and Delia’s smoochy make out time by going full cat. Of course they could ignore him, but Delia absolutely adores full cat Meowth and gives him all her attention. Obviously she has plenty of experience with him being intelligent and knows this is basically an act, but she can’t help but fawn over him, pet him, scratch his ears. He’s too cute!
Eventually Jessie confronts him and demands he stop. He very calmly says he means to, but Delia’s attention is very enticing, and it’s nice to get to be more of a cat without all the near daily TR schemes to have to carry our.
He also points out he didn’t exactly get this kind of treatment while it was just their trio. (Maybe they did and I never saw) Jessie says touche but points out he didn’t exactly ask for it. Meowth also says touche.
Jessie proposes he cut his Delia hogging in half, and in exchange, she’ll give him similar attention sometime. Mewoth is surprised and a bit skeptical since he and Jessie never or rarely had that kind of interaction. But he’s curious to try it out and agrees.
Initial attempts are a bit awkward, especially since Meowth is Meowth™️. She asks that he try not talking too much because it makes it feel weird. It gets better, and eventually Jessie starts to see his cuteness, and Meowth likes her petting and scratches more and more.
Eventually it becomes a casual, regular thing. Meowth even cuddles up to Jessie on the couch and naps in her lap. His cuteness keeps wittling her hesitation until she’s fawning almost as much as Delia.
Delia’s heart practically explodes from seeing this and she takes pictures.
this is everything to me 😭
you should watch roketto dan vs. skull dan (sun and moon episode). jessie carries meowth around everywhere, it's adorable and a possible glimpse into the fact that she carries him around a lot (?). i hc that jessie reluctantly pets meowth but it also calms her down
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