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#the one who breaks the eye contact first is what again?
ellethespaceunicorn · 24 hours
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Don't Kill My Vibe
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Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.
Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids
A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
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It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.
And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.
When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.
You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.
You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.
His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.” 
“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”
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So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.
“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”
Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale. 
You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”
Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him. 
He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil! 
Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.
Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.
“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.
“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.
You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.
Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.
“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.
It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.
“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.
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Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.
“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.
“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.
“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.
“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.
That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time. 
1. Clark is single. 
2. Clark is literally in your lap.
3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.
Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy. 
“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.
“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.
As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”
Oh, the importance of phrasing.
This man is not going to make it easy on you.
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You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.
An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor. 
“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.
“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.
“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”
Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-
One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands. 
His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.
Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black. 
You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.
“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”
Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.
He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.
Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it. 
You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. 
You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”
“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.
Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine. 
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips. 
You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.
With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.
But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.
You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time. 
Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.
Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.
“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”
You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.
Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.
Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.
“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.
“Yes!” he exclaims.
“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.
“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.
Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.
With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway. 
🍃The End🍃
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tencrushesperday · 20 hours
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Blood runs thicker than water
pairing : matt rempe x hughes!reader
warnings : angst, and some description of bruises, sort of forbidden lovers
w.c : 1052
a/n : instead of studying for my exams next week i do this, i was listening to The water is fine by Chloe Ament and felt inspired
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You wanted to stay until the end of the match. You wanted to congratulate your brothers on the win. You wanted to party with the team after such a huge win against their rivals.
But the blood was pounding in your ears and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. The crowd was so loud. Jack’s last conquest and Bratt’s girlfriend were chatting next to you. Yet you were feigning interest in the game to ignore them. Even though you could barely focus your sight.
Luke had gotten into an unnecessary fight during second period and Jack was right there to back him up. Both were okay. But the other guy wasn’t.
As soon as the second intermission started you excused yourself to the restroom then texted Nicole on your way to your car saying that suddenly you weren’t feeling good.
Fortunately, you’ve driven down this road so many times you didn’t have to focus to get home because suddenly you were in your apartment. You were on autopilot the whole time doing your night routine and then you were in your bed trying to fall asleep.
Sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes you would see him taking hit after hit. Him struggling to get up. His bloody face.
Then you heard keys turning in the lock and the front door shutting. You got up from your bed and marched out of your room, ready to send one of your bothers home.
“Matt”, you stopped dead in your tracks right outside your bedroom door.
There he stood, in front of the entrance, cheeks bruised, lip cracked.
“I’m sorry”, he only managed to whisper it.
He wanted to say a thousand other things but everything was pointless and painful. Looking at you was painful. Nothing was more appropriate than “sorry”.
He was the one who hit first. Even though Luke asked for it. He chirped Matt’s girlfriend without even knowing it was his own sister and Matt couldn’t let it slide. He also couldn’t tell Luke the truth.
The truth being you weren’t even his girlfriend.
You were just hooking up, keeping it casual, secret.
He would have loved it, have it been any other girl.
But he was so desperately in love with you. He wanted to hold your hand and take you on dates and have you cheering on him at his game. He loved waking up next to you and the casual evenings you spent at each other’s apartments, watching a movie, cooking together and telling each other about your days. He loved when you talked about hockey and he would promise you to take you play again, like when you used to do when you were younger. He even loved the stupid reels and tiktok’s you would send him in the morning on your commute to work because then he knew that you thought about him.
However, it has never gotten out of your apartments. His promise to take you to the rink to play hockey together was never fulfilled.
That he hated.
You kept looking at him. You couldn’t sleep because you kept seeing him getting hurt. But now that he was actually in front of you and even in the dim light coming in from the street you could see the bruises.
Not breaking eye contact you get closer to him as he silently takes off his shoes. He knows the rules in your home. He has a spare key. He knows you inside and out and he still can’t call you his and that’s worse than any hit from your brother, he thinks to himself.
“You left before third period.” He wants to wrap his arms around you and feel the warmth of your body to forget the cold of the ice.
You look at him before taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. “So did you.”
You drop his hand and reach for two glasses in your cupboard.
He watches your every movement and anticipates your every word. You’re too calm but he knows there’s a storm brewing inside of you. You always go quiet when you’re upset and feeling too much. He knows that growing up with three brothers toughened you up and that, even if you’re working on it, subconsciously you still think that showing emotion is a weakness. Still he awaits your next words and actions. You have him wrapped around your finger so tight he almost wants to laugh at his poor situation.
You turn on the tap and let the water running until it’s at the right temperature before filling up your glass.
Matt can’t wait anymore. His patience thins with every drop of water. It’s pouring out of the faucet and going down the drain.
He’s right behind you when you turn around. You wanted to ask him if he wants water but your words die in your throat. He looks even worse up close.
If you weren’t holding in your breath you would have sobbed at the sight.
Despair fills his eyes when you look up to him. He crashes his lips on yours and you can taste it right there.
You’re not mad he fought Luke. You know how it is on the ice, you know how Luke can be a little shit when chirping, you know how Matt can fly off the handle in such a situation.
You taste a metallic taste in your mouth as the slit on his lip cracks open at the fierceness with which he kissed you.
It doesn’t matter who he fought, he’s hurt and that’s what upsets you.
The metallic taste mixes with the saltiness of the tear that slid down your cheek. He catches the next one with the thumb that is caressing your skin, as he cradles your face.
Your fingers run through his hair. You can’t let him go. You tug him closer. You can’t tell your bothers. Not now. Every thought in your head contradicts the previous one. His other hand is wrapped around your whole body and pulls you impossible closer. You’re caught up in such a mess, one you made yourself.
But for tonight you’ll kiss Matt even harder. You’ll take care of his bruised lip. You’ll kiss the pain away.
Leaving the mess for tomorrow morning.
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆
Angel - Paige bueckers
part 3
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• summary {when an unsuspecting girl falls for the basketball star}
• warnings {drug use, angst}
• comment if you would like to be added to the taglist
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bella’s pov
“ok you can go now” she says, emotionless
“oh”
“i mean, no offence but i have a girl coming soon, so you cant be here” she says laying on her back, breaking our eye contact
i don’t respond and put my clothes back on. this is fucked
“have a nice night”
i haven’t cried this much in months, walking through the halls, ugly crying.
‘paige’ has been blocked by ‘bella’
“bella whats wrong” avery says, empathetically
“i hate her, i hate her so much” i cry, barley being able to choke the words out
i look at avery after my response and i have never seen her that angry, there could fully be steam coming from her ears.
“please dont talk to her, please dont hurt her, please avery, please” i cry out, begging the infuriated girl
“why not bella, she deserves it” she yells
my tears dont stop and i feel like they will never stop pouring.
“tell me what she did”
i begin the tell her the events of tonight and her anger only grows.
“that fucking bitch” is all she can say in response
“but i blocked her, and im literally never gonna speak to her again” i say, trying to make a positive point, to counteract this negative situation
“you are never gonna speak to her again”
“im gonna go off to bed”
i feel broken, i got used. i wanted my first time with a girl to be meaningful, i know i like girls and i wanted to prove to myself that having sex with girls wasn’t wrong, but i feel wrong, i feel gross. i cant believe i would let myself be that vulnerable with someone i barley know. ive never been the one to have one night stands and ive only ever had sex with someone ive been in a relationship with.
i take my valium, something i swore to never use again after getting addicted, but its the only thing that works.
“hey, how are you feeling” avery ask’s, genuinely. i’ve never seen her be this gentle before
“wheres my weed”
“bella no”
“shut up avery”
i walk to the kitchen and unlock one of the drawers, and i see the stash. thank god
i know i shouldn’t smoke as a coping mechanism, but its the only thing that works, every time something bad happens to me, i turn to smoking
after going through 3 joints, im barley able to talk or stand up. perfect
knock
ugh
knock
fuck off
knock
“who is it” i say, it barley even sounded like words
“its azzi, is avery here”
who the fuck is azzi
“avery theres a bitch here for you” i say taking another drag
“oh my god! hey azzi” avery says, excitedly, why the fuck is she acting like that
“why are you so fucking happy” i ask, knowing full well how rude i sound
“this is azzi, shes in my psychology class and we have gotten pretty close” avery says, grabbing azzi and sitting next to me on the couch
“yo dont sit on my shit” i say, mad
“your bella right?” azzi says, happily. i hate happy people
“yeah”
“yeah avery’s told me alot about you” she says
“cool” i reply, dryly
“azzis on the basketball team” avery says, my eyes widen
“of course she is” i say, sarcastically. i hate basketball
“yeah, have you been to any games” she questioned, attempting to continue this boring conversation
“nah, i dont watch basketball”
“oh well you should sometime, avery keeps saying how she wants to go to a game” azzi says, looking at avery who begins giggling. sus
“bella your probably friends with some people on the team” avery says
“you wanna hit” i offer to azzi
“nah, i dont smoke”
“boring” i say, bluntly
“do you guys mind if some of my friends come over” azzi says
“no, no, thats perfectly fine” avery says, looking at azzi. basically eye fucking her
“who” i ask
“ice, kk, aubrey, nika and ashlee” she lists
fuck my life. im to high to care
“yeah whatever” i say, lazily
“ok perfect, ill tell them to come” azzi says, excitedly
“are you sure” avery whispers to me, being nice. for once
“i dont give a fuck, its fine” i say taking a drag
im so high. god damn
10 minutes later all of azzis friends turn up, why are they all so tall. what the fuck
avery introduces herself to them and points them to our couch
“hey im kk, your bella right” kk asks
“yeah im bella”
“hey im ice”
“hey im nika”
“hey im ashlee”
“hey im aubrey”
to many people to remember
until
“oh paige came to, i hope you dont mind” azzi says to us, mostly avery
avery says nothing, myself included
“hi paige” avery says, extremely cold
“come sit guys” azzi says, breaking the silence. i wish i wasn’t so high cause i wanna go to my room
everyone sits on the couch, paige sitting the furthest away from me. funny. not funny. not laughing
conversation begins and everyone is involved. everyone but me, ugh i’m so uncomfortable
paige keeps looking at me, and yes i’m noticing because i’m looking at her to.
paige’s pov
fuck. why do i keep looking at her.
she blocked me last night so obviously shes mad about my actions last night, its just a hookup, nothing more.
its not that deep
“i’m going to bed” bella says, slurring and barely able to stand up. i didn’t know she smoked that much, i guess i don’t know anything about her. but i don’t care.
“paige are you ready to go” kk and ice say to me
“yeah, aubrey, nika, azzi, u ready to go”
“yeah lets go”
“actually im gonna stay” azzi says. sus
“buy guys” is said in unison
azzis pov
“ugh finally” avery says, while smashing her lips onto mine
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A/N: im being active rn lolll. how do we like avery and azzi
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shirefantasies · 2 days
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I loved both of your new updates, with the Hobbit characters and Fellowship reacting to you calling them pretty. How do you imagine the elves replying when you call them pretty? Such as Lindir, Arwen, Haldir, Elrond and Figwit?
Lindir and Figwit are one and the same, that’s why there's only one :) here’s how I think it would go:
The Elves’ Reaction to You Calling Them Pretty
Gets sappy: Arwen, Lindir, Legolas
Shock: Elrond, Haldir, Feren
No you: Galadriel, Thranduil
Slowly, widely grinning, Arwen’s gaze falls from yours slightly, only to slide back. “You flatter me,” she says, voice lowering to a near-whisper as she steps closer, “especially for one who knows my heart is in your hands.” Flustered is the only word you could use to describe the look that crosses Lindir’s face, especially as you reach over to tuck a strand of his long dark hair behind his ear. A smile creeps across it, oh yes, but what can he do besides respond that no word that he knows can begin his description, no song he could write, would do you justice half as proper as he should like. Legolas bursts into a big, bashful smile before you even finish your sentence, reaching to take your hand and hold it against his chest. At first he says nothing, his dark eyes simply swimming in yours before he speaks. "I know not what I did to deserve such a love as you have given me, but I hope I do it again and again."
Taken aback, Elrond nearly leans away from your touch before seemingly thinking better of it, pale skin of his cheek resuming contact with your palm and bringing a rush of warmth with it. "You see beauty in the strangest of places," he chuckles, "in all things and every face you look upon. If only all of Middle-Earth could see as you do." And with that, his lips are on yours. Haldir tilts his head in- confusion? before his eyes are searching the gaze upon them, finding nothing but sincerity swimming in the beautiful color of your eyes. A smile breaks across his face, small but deeply affectionate, as he shakes his golden head. "I know not what to say beyond thanking the Valar for the gift of your love." You almost burst into a laugh at the way Feren's big brown eyes widen, turning like saucers as if you'd shifted to some unheard tongue mid-sentence. "Yes, you," you reiterate, reaching up to caress his face, the gorgeous arch of his cheekbone, "do I not make it apparent enough all the beauty I see in you?" Flushing, Feren simply shakes his head and leans into your touch before thinking better of it, turning instead to take your hand and press a kiss to the back of it. "Not at all. I was simply thinking of all the ways I should be returning the favor."
Amusement plays upon Galadriel's lips, loving glow overtaking her at your compliment, tinging her cheeks and glittering in her fair blue eyes. “Would that you could see through my eyes, meleth nîn,” she chuckles, reaching up to trace a pale hand along your hair, down the rise of your cheekbone, and to gently brush your lips with her thumb. Each motion a silent affirmation that has your heart singing as you grant her the kiss she asks for. “Well, aren’t you charming?” Thranduil teases, but all you can see in his eyes is pure, brimming love. “These are not your words, love, but mine.” His smile is wide, welcoming as the arms that pull you against the king’s back, elegant lips pecking your neck, then your cheek. “Your sincerity is a gift to this world, though. You say what you think whether it is what I wish or not. I suppose we can say I got lucky this time, did I not? As I do every day I have you by my side.”
Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🥰
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s0urw00lf · 2 days
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All in time
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Summary: finnick is on a mission to convince the world you aren’t what they think
Request: Finnick odair with reader who is strangely unsettling with like a creepy personality but also a sweetheart and she confuses everyone so much
Fic type: fluff/angst
Pairing: Finnick odair x reader
Word count: 1.4k
Masterlist
Boarder by @cafekitsune
An: i kinda hate this. But i hope you enjoy reading it more than i did writing it.
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The games had changed you. And not for the better, the cheerful person you were when you were chosen was long gone by the time you stepped foot on that train to the capitol. Your walls went up and they were made of pure steel, no one was able to break your barrier. Until you met Finnick, it was like he just walked right through them with no problem whatsoever. He was quick to break down your barriers, only to see the complete sweetheart you truly were, the way you cried when you remembered all of the lives you'd taken in the arena, the memorial wall you'd put in your home for them. The way you secretly worried for everyone in the arena during every game, hoping they'd call it off right in the middle of it so no one else had to die. But of course, nothing good ever happens in the capitol. Which is exactly how you wound back up in the games with Finnick. Everyone was fairly wary of you, much to Finnick dismay.
Today is the first day of training, and while Finnick was walking around making allies, you were practicing your trident throwing accuracy, (which was pretty spot on) until you looked over to see Finnick making his way over to you with a small smile on his face. “You know it'd be a hell of a lot easier to make allies if you didn't look like you'd kill the first person who walked up to you,” Finnick said leaning on the trident stand. You sighed “I know, but it's stupid when almost all of us are gonna die anyway.” you said as your body thrust forward, throwing the trident and successfully hitting the target. You turned to him, making eye contact with his bright blue eyes. He nodded over to his right, you looked over and saw Katniss Everdeen, your blank expression quickly changed into one of slight panic, “absolutely not” you said shaking your head. Finnick started nodding his head muttering ‘absolutely’ over and over as he nudged you over towards her. “Come back with an ally,” he said from behind you, as you sighed and begrudgingly made your way towards the struggling girl. You hadn't been one for socializing, and you weren't as intimidating as people made you seem, in fact you were more afraid of not being liked than anything, but the facade helped you protect yourself.
Katniss currently had her back towards you, trying and failing to throw the knives and land them in the place intended. “You’re a badass archer, but your throwing is horrible,” you said in a monotone voice. She turned towards you and a look of shock crossed her face when she saw that it was you that was talking to her. her posture straightened “You know who I am?” Katniss asked. Your brows raised, “Everyone knows who you are, you and your boyfriend are a literal one in a million. Most beautiful love story in all of Panem.” You said. Katniss grimaced, “sorry, I just heard-“ she said before cutting herself off. You nodded, telling her that you already knew what she was gonna say. You pointed to the knife in her hand, “may I?”. She nodded handing you the knife and moving out of the way. you took her place in front of the target and put your arm in the growing position before pausing to show her, “Your stance was wrong. You wanna hit your target you have to get the correct stance.” You finished, before unpausing your position and throwing hit knife. You smiled looking over at her “Bullseye” you said letting a smile slip. You moved to get the knife from the target and walked back to Katniss holding it out to her mentioning for her to try again. She nodded taking the knife and tried to replicate your stance, before letting the knife fly at the target. Your brows raised surprised “Pretty good Everdeen” you complimented. She didn’t show any emotion but you’re pretty sure that’s just her. “Thanks,” she said in her quiet voice. you looked back at Finnick who was still resting in the same position, leaning against the trident stand, he nodded and you sighed quietly turning back to Katniss. “Knife throwing takes time and practice, so let me do the throwing and you stick to the shooting alright?” You asked holding out your hand, hoping shed catch your drift. She looked at you warily, but ultimately shook your hand. You smiled, and she gave you the best one she could muster “See ya” you said making your way back to Finnick who looked decently surprised. “See wasn’t that bad, you just needed a little push,” he said. You rolled your eyes, “you’re lucky she’s not unbearable, you would’ve been my target had she been” you joked with a smile
~~~~~
After you came back from rescuing Peeta and Johanna from the capitol, you were sitting on your and Finnick's shared bed when you heard a knock on the door. You made your way over to the door and when you opened you were met with a crying Katniss, you were instantly hit with worry, “are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked pulling her into the room. She shook her head “I just wanted to thank you, for everything.” She said. Your brows raised in surprise. “I second-guessed Finnick when he told me all you guys wanted was to help us, I didn’t trust you and I'm sorry, “she said solemnly. You shook your head, “you had every right not to trust me, or him. I didn’t fully trust you either” you admitted. You hugged her, you knew she wasn’t a touchy person, but you felt like she needed it. She hugged you back, before pulling away. “Finnick is lucky to have you, and I’m glad he put everyone in their place for you.” She said. You frowned in confusion, “what do you mean?” You asked. “In the arena when you’d gotten separated from everyone else he was a mess, but Johanna made a comment, saying you were probably scoping us out, seeing which ones to kill. He went ballistic and said anyone who thinks you’d kill them is just as brainwashed as the rest of Panem. Said he’d been more likely to kill us if it came down to it. Said you’re in no way whatsoever weak but you’re damn sure not a monster.” She finished. You frowned, you hadn’t known this piece of information, but when you’d reunited with the group you had wondered why everyone had such a drastic change of heart towards you. Even the stone-cold Johanna. Katniss understood the look on your face pretty well, having worn it herself. She stepped away “I’m gonna go I just wanted you to know that I'm thankful for everything.” She said and you nodded, “you’re welcome,” you said as she left
~~~
Not long after Finnick entered the room. You quickly stood and ran to hug his tall frame placing your arms around his shoulders. “Not that I'm complaining, but what’s this for?” He asked as his arms slithered around your waist. You looked up at him with the most love-filled eyes you’d ever given him. “Thank you for not giving up on me,” you said. “Finnick was still confused and he let the confusion show on his face “Of course not,” he said. You backed away “I had a visit from Katniss, she thanked me for everything but she told me something else.” You said to him, he nodded telling you to go on. “She said you stuck up for me to Johanna. Told her and everyone else that you were more likely to kill them than me.” You said as tears brimmed your eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?” You asked. Finnick leaned down and placed his lips to yours, capturing you in a love-filled kiss as his arms brought you closer to his body. He kissed you as if his love depended on it like all his love for you was in that single kiss. He pulled away but kept you close. “Y/n, you have the most amazing soul I’ve ever seen. And people deserve to see it, to feel what it’s like to be cared for by you, even if it isn’t romantically. Y/n you are a gem, with such rarity that anyone would live poor just to have you by their side.” He said with the softest eyes, a voice so full of emotion that you couldn’t pinpoint which one was which. “I love you Finn,” you said, in this situation you didn’t know what else to say. “I love you too darling,” he said pressing another kiss to your lips.
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winterrrnight · 2 hours
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bsf!Rafe who for once gets jealous and annoyed, and it's reader's time to remind him he's still reader's favorite boy
I adore your mind anon 😭😭 jealousy is such a pretty color on rafe <3 this is fr my favourite pairing to write for at the moment so I’m literally always and forever willing to discuss thoughts on them!! <3
bsf!rafe who gets sad jealous when he sees some other guy flirt with you… <3 listen to babydoll by ari abdul, cause rafe calls reader babydoll hehe <3 cw: suggestive content (no actual smut): intimacy, tension and neck kissing, rafe gets jealous, minimal swearing, rafe calls reader babydoll once, reader is a no bullshit taking kind of person, alcohol consumption <3 for @chenslucy (I love love love you heaps anna 💚)
part of this little universe <3
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you didn’t even mean to, it just happened.
he cornered you at the bar when all you wanted was to get some beer for you and rafe, and said things like he’s been looking at you since you came inside the party mansion, and thought you’re the prettiest person he’s ever laid his eyes on. you knew it’s all the alcohol in his system talking; he wasn’t even all up in your face yet you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
it took you quite some time to tear away from the conversation; after a lot of convincing from your side that you were not into him, even when he kept on flattering you more and more. you finally escaped the conversation, letting out a deep sigh as you hold two cups of beer in your hand, the next task being to find rafe in the huge crowds.
little did you know, you were under the microscopic vision of rafe. he was in a corner of the party, watching you with his hawk like eyes as the guy talked with you. he couldn’t hear a thing, but from what he saw from the distance, you were being flirted with, and he wasn’t sure you were trying to avoid him or were enjoying it.
he contemplated coming over to break the conversation off, but decided against it. he didn’t know why, but he decided to just watch it all play out, and to see how you react. but what was not helping was his burning jealousy. how can some other man talk to you that way, and even think of making you his?
with a lot of struggle, you found your way through the crowds and finally spotted rafe. you could see he’s slumped in a corner, a scowl on his face. “here you go,” you said, holding out his cup as you took a sip from your own cup. rafe didn’t even look at you, just took the cup from your hand and gulped down most of the beer in one go.
“geez calm down,” you said, furrowing your brows a bit as you watched him down his drink too quick. he still didn’t look at you, and only finished off the drink in another sip. he tossed the empty plastic cup somewhere aside on the floor, and you watched it roll off and get crunched under someone’s foot.
you looked back up to see rafe’s jaw tightened, the scowl had not left him and his eyes were narrow. he was looking anywhere but at you.
“what’s up with you?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink and peering at him from over the rim of the cup.
“nothin’,” he mumbled incoherently under his breath, still not making any sort of eye contact with you. his eyes roamed around the party almost nervously, as if examining each detail and fixing it in his mind.
you rolled your eyes at his answer. “that’s not gonna cut it, come on, out with it. what’s up?”
he grumbled something incoherently again, but this time, you were not having it at all. the lack of eye contact, the bare minimum words; you had enough.
you took hold of his wrist and practically dragged him out of the party mansion, maneuvering through the sweaty crowd of young adults. rafe got caught off guard at first, but didn’t fight and he followed your lead. you led him outside where it was much more quiet, the music a blur and maybe a person or two hanging out, but it was more or less quite silent. you both were right besides the pool, and you sat down, pulling him with you too.
“what’s wrong? speak up, now, because I’m not having that mumbling nonsense you’ve been doing,” you said, your voice a bit cold as you took a sip of your drink.
you could see rafe looking at the water in the pool, the reflections of the calm water dancing across his handsome face.
“jus’ didn’t like you flirting with that dude, ’s all,” he muttered.
you furrowed your brows at him, almost confused as to what he was referring to but catching up quickly. “I wasn’t flirting with him, he was flirting with me. and being quite forward about it too,”
“yeah but you were smiling and laughing, don’t think I didn’t catch that,” he muttered again, his gaze not leaving the pool water.
“cause I was tryna let him down easy! I didn’t want to come off extremely rude,” you said.
rafe didn’t say anything or looked up from the water. you let out a sigh at the sight and kept your cup aside, scooting closer to him.
“look at me rafe,” you mumbled, your breath dancing across his ear. he slowly turned his head, his blue eyes meeting yours under the reflections of the water; the reflections a subtle green due to the dark green tiles at the bottom of the pool.
“I don’t care about that random dude, at all,” you murmured. “I never would, okay? fuck, I didn’t even catch his name, and frankly, I’m not interested in knowing his name,”
you could see his eyes softening. the moonlight along with the green water reflections lightened his eyes to an electric blue instead of the warm blue you usually saw him with.
“yeah?” he whispered, his brain suddenly registering how close you were to him.
“mhm,” you hum, your hand coming up to rest at the side of his neck as you gently rubbed the skin with your thumb.
you could see rafe’s eyes fluttering when he felt you starting to apply some pressure at the side of his neck, almost as if the sensation was sparking the feeling of pleasure in his veins.
“why would I do that when… I’ve got you?” you whispered, your hand coming off his neck for a moment but quickly replaced by your lips, a gentle kiss delivered under the whites of the moon and the greens of the pool.
rafe let out a soft sigh at the feeling, his head involuntarily tilting back as his hands slipped around your shoulders, holding onto you for stability when your kisses became more repetitive, yet were slow and lingered on his skin for a moment each time.
“you’re my favorite boy, always and forever, and don’t you ever forget that yeah?” you whispered, your lips parting from his neck for a second before attaching themselves back again, the same slow speed carried by you.
you could feel rafe’s nails dig into your shoulders through the fabric of your clothing, and that only prompted you to kiss him even more.
as your lips trailed up to his ear to gently press behind the delicate skin of his ear, rafe’s lips parted to let out the softest gasp, his body only craving that sensation on every inch of his skin.
“oh…” he gasped softly, tightening his hold on your shoulders.
“oh babydoll...”
— —
I think bsf!rafe’s nickname for reader would totally be babydoll, might include that more in the rest of the fics for them :p ANYWAYS I love them so so much and I would love to have any requests you may have for them ahhhh
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jimraisedmeup · 1 day
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TICK // 6.1 - i feel you
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Rating: mature (violence, language)
Word Count: 500
A/N: First and foremost, thank you to everyone who has taken a portion of their time to read TICK... words cannot explain my joy to know if even one person can relate to it or make them feel some type of way. I also wanted to mention, this is a random short chapter - just for this one, we are fast forwarding to 1986, what I am calling "present day" (AKA Season 4) for a smidge ;-D As part of the storytelling, I might do this more, and there might be small time skips coming up, so, *wink wink* watch the date at the beginning of each chapter. thank u agn love u all
...now let's get on with it.
I feel you Your sun it shines I feel you Within my mind
Spring Break 1986 - present day
Eddie Munson held a broken beer bottle against Steve Harrington's throat. 
Three dark figures rushed forward, at the front being Dustin Henderson. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Eddie! Eddie! Stop!" He was frantic.
But Eddie knew better than to let his guard down at the mere arrival of a friendly face. Even the innocent face of a freshman in the Hellfire Club. The situation was dire.
"Eddie. Eddie. It's me. It's Dustin." The shorter kid gestured towards Harrington. "This is Steve. He's not gonna hurt you, right, Steve?"
The douchebag in his grasp was barely visible in the dark boathouse, but Eddie could feel him nod.
"Right. Yeah."
"Steve, why don't you drop the oar?" Dustin suggested.
He hesitated for a second, but then Harrington finally dropped the oar. The sudden sound of it crashing on the ground only prompted Eddie to press the broken glass further onto Steve's neck.
The trio behind him pleaded with him.
"He's cool! He's. Cool." 
Past the glints of light coming off his own silver rings, Eddie made eye contact with the guy struggling in his grasp. 
"I'm cool, man. I'm cool."
"What are you doing here?" was the only thing Eddie Munson could think to ask.
Dustin raised his hands before him. "We're looking for you."
A familiar voice chirped from Dustin's right, distracting him for a second. "We're here to help." 
He felt a tugging at the back of his skull... a distant memory. Dustin kept rambling.
"Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band. This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D," Dustin paused. "Eddie. We're on your side. I swear on my mother! Right guys?"
Everyone else around him quickly concurred. But Eddie's mind went completely blank at the name Robin.
"Yes. Yes. We swear." A small red-haired girl, looking extremely depressed.
"On Dustin's mother." That familiar voice again, bringing him back to images and memories he repressed over a year ago. 
Eddie was pulled out of his thoughts by Harrington speaking, squirming in his grip.
"Yeah, Dustin's… Dustin's mother."
He stared at the Harrington kid for a second, remembering all the times he and his jock friends called him a "freak". But now wasn't the time for old grudges. A new dawn approached.
Eddie let him go and stepped away.
"Jesus Chr-" Steve complained, holding his neck.
The rest of them watched Eddie carefully as he leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down until he reached the floor. His head felt like a timebomb ready to blow at any moment.
Dustin crouched in front of him. "We just want to talk. Okay."
"We want to know what happened." The girl with short hair and blue eyes approached him. Those damn blue eyes.
"Robin Buckley?"
"Uh… the one and only." She couldn't have possibly looked more uncomfortable.
Eddie was utterly confused for a moment, his brown eyes moving to each of the faces like he was looking for someone.
"Wait," he spoke, his voice hoarse. "How exactly did you guys find me?"
Unbeknownst to the shaken man, you sat on the hood of the car outside, acting as a lookout.
I feel you Each move you make I feel you Each breath you take
Where angels sing And spread their wings My love's on high You take me home To glory's throne By and by
(song lyrics credit: "I Feel You" by Depeche Mode)
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c2universe · 4 months
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“Oh, now you’re serious.”
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Danny laid across his throne, legs planted across the left arm of the ornate chair and back pressed uncomfortably against the right.
"Listen," Danny started, letting his head flop to the side as he glared at a hovering Observant. "This meeting has wasted enough of my time. You all have been arguing for hours and that's without Clockwork slowing things down."
"Your Majesty, this is a matter of great importance. Belial means to overthrow and rule my-our world!"
"I am distinctly aware aware of that," Ancients, Danny couldn't wait to go home and rid himself of the formal speech he'd had to adopt in order to be taken seriously. Well, as seriously as he cared to be taken when sprawled across his throne instead of sitting on it intimidatingly or something. He slowly placed his gaze on the suddenly still demon sitting across from him. "Yet you've proposed fifteen different plans that were all unviable for whatever reasons you've cooked up. Your conclusion is that I must step in. Does your world not have heroes to take care of it?"
The demon- another lord of hell from this Belial’s universe- fell silent.
“Ah. But if they do, they would also take care of you.”
“No- no, that’s not-”
Danny allowed his voice to drop to the artic freeze he knew his core was capable of. "I opened these these doors to allow all of you to present me with reasonable concerns regarding your own universes and realms. What is not on the table for discussion is your petty politics. Do you think I am unaware of your intentions in tattling to me? That I do not know you are trying to use me to further your own position?"
"Your Majesty, I-" The demon growled out, fear slowly coating its expression.
"It no longer amuses me. You think that I am young and easy to manipulate." Danny froze the demon to its chair. It tried to break free, but Danny isn't the High King of the Infinite Realms for nothing. "Bring to me a miserable problem like this ever again, one that could be easily solved if you used even a smidgen of your intelligence, and you will find exactly how I tore Pariah Dark from his throne."
Not that Danny knew how he did it either, he just did it.
"Yes, Your Majesty. My-my apologies."
The room is dead (Danny patted himself on the back for the pun) silent. Some of the Ancients looked bored, like Clockwork who knew Danny would never hurt them, but everyone else looked close to crying. He held eye contact with the demon until it looked away.
When Danny settled back into the throne and allowed his ice to dissipate, the room let out a collective sigh of relief.
"The next item on the agenda is another demon, by the name of Trigon." Clockwork announced, the large piece of paper comically huge next to his currently toddler-like body.
"Another?"
He flicked an amused look at the previous demon, who kept his trap firmly shut.
"He is attempting to take over multiple worlds in an attempt to conquer the universe. I had thought you would be interested in this one, Your Majesty, as he plans to begin with Earth 135."
Danny stilled. That was his Earth. His haunt.
"Does he know of the Realms?"
"Vaguely, I believe."
"Then he should know the rules. I will wait to see if my Earth's heroes are capable to step to the task."
Danny would be a hypocrite if he doesn’t let the heroes of his Earth try first, even if he is one of those heroes.
"Of course," Clockwork grinned at him, fully aware of the shit Danny's about to stir back home. Ah, the wonders of being able to influence the time stream. Perhaps the young Ghost King will finally get some friends, and maybe get those pesky speedsters to stop making his jobs so hard. Cujo yipped at Danny as the King begrudgingly moved onto the next topic.
——
Raven shuddered as she watched the footage of her "brothers" laughing while steering their human "meatbags" around. She turned back to the giant circle of donated blood and herb filled candles.
“This is a nuclear option, don’t you think?” Green Arrow mumbled, clearly not against it by the half hearted way he’d said it. The Star City billionaire nursed his cracked ribs.
“No,” she floated over to where Zatanna and Constantine kneeled, trying to see if they needed help with the inscriptions. “Trigon is coming soon, and my brothers will no doubt find their way here in a moment. We are out of time.”
“Yeah. Plus, we don’t want Raven to be turned into a portal.” Garfield piped up, switching animal forms rapidly.
“No one dies.” Red Robin muttered. His wrist computer was open, monitoring the surroundings of the open field they found themselves uneasily occupying. Batman grunted in affirmation, eyeing the tree line. Every hero except the magical ones were on look out, preparing themselves for one more battle against the two demons that were trying to take Raven and force her into becoming a portal.
“Hey guys, we might want to hurrythisupbecausethey’re kind of close!” Impulse slammed into the room.
“Done.” Zatanna got up, motioning for everyone to step back. In Superman’s case, he floated back.
“Too bad you won’t get to use it,” a voice drawled, dripping with malice and the screams of a thousand souls.
“Come now, little sister. Why fight fate? Be grateful father has deigned to spare you. If not for your dirty blood being useful, you would be dead, little sister. Give up, before our patience runs out alongside the lives of your little pets.” Another, mocking, voice gleefully rumbled.
Raven would rather gouge out her own heart than to claim these two as any type of family.
“You won’t touch them.” Raven snarled, powers rising even as the marks on her body burned a painful red.
“Buy us some time!”
With that, the group of beaten and battered heroes rose to clash against just two demons, for a chance to save their world.
——
The Circle crackled. Danny felt a tug on his core. He followed the thread of the summoning. Oh. It was his haunt. Earth 135. Hm. It tasted of blood. Desperation? A hint of anticipation. Oh, an overload of fear. Could use some more hope, but Danny understood that it was rather hard to season these kinds of summonings with hope.
“Stop.” Danny commanded, straightening in his chair.
“Sire, we have more-”
“There is an issue with my haunt,” with that, he followed the summons.
——
“Ugh,” was the first thing everybody on the frozen battlefield heard. The demons had smacked away many of the heroes, but they all turned as one when the circle lit up a bright green. “Why do you people always use blood? I’m dead, I don’t need any more iron!”
A boy
Raven’s eldest brother let out a hideous rumble. “You fools tried to summon the king, and you got a dead boy. And now, you’ve doomed another.”
Constantine looked resigned, and regretful. “I am so, so sorry,” he whispered. It was just a kid. John might be a lot of things, but even he found summoning dead kids for demons to devour was just a step too far. “Shite, we got the wrong fucking-”
“Hey, man, that’s rude,” the boy snapped back, waving John off.
“Brother, kill the whelp.”
“I vote on not killing the whelp. Not killing at all, really,” the boy stepped out of the massive blood circle, wrinkling his nose at the drying stains.
“This is not one of your pesky democracies, fool.”
In response, the demons lunged at him, ignoring the screams of the surrounding heroes as they shoved their human arms through the boy’s stomach.
“So,” the boy continues, “I heard your dad was after my haunt?”
“Your haunt, whelp? This earth shall be his! And through him, ours!” Raven slammed against the demons with her power, shadows enlarging and tossing them away from the unharmed… ghost boy?
“Is it?”
——
Wow, these demons are so rude. Normally, it’d be a breath of fresh air compared to the stuffy halls of his throne room. But since they’re attacking his haunt…
“Thanks. You’re… Raven, right?”
Raven nodded, arms outstretched in concentration as she held her brothers back.
“You have to go. We’re- we’re sorry you got pulled into this, but it’s not safe here.”
“Eh. It’s cool. You don’t have to do that anymore, by the way.” Danny stepped forward once more, green skin shifting and gliding as everything about him sharpened. He flew at the demons piloting the human shells, catching them around the necks and dragging the demons out of their stolen bodies. The threw them even further away as he floated in the air, a beacon of green and white. Raven thought it looked like hope.
“My name is Phantom, the High King of the Infinite Realms,” let it be known that Danny always had an eye for dramatic entrances. He shifted into something more off, more eldritch, more kingly. The crown flared to life above his head. “You have invaded my haunt. You have challenged me. What do you plead?”
“You’re not-” they said.
“Wrong answer,” Danny flew at them once more, body contorting into something undeniably terrorizing, his maw unhinging and crunching down on the demons with a sound that made the present heroes cringe.
“Ugh,” Danny grunted, turning back and floating peacefully to the group of heroes- Tucker and Sam would be so stoked he met Wonder Woman and Batman!- and chewed rapidly. He shifted back into his normal form. “Eating demons always leaves me with indigestion. And their bones get everywhere up in my teeth!” Danny pulled out a giant femur looking bone from his mouth, despite it not logically fitting in there.
“Right. No eating demons, solid life advice.” Red Robin said.
“Right? So, you’re Raven! It’s nice to meet you! Think you can summon your dear ol’ dad for me?”
“But we summoned you to stop Trigon, not help him come here.” Superman said, frowning.
“One! That summoning circle is wack. Those things you piled up as offerings? Mid. Also, if you thought you could control me with those terribly written spells, you’re dead wrong. And yes, I am making puns about death.” Danny jabs an aggressive finger towards the shabby circle.
“Have you considered that maybe not every being that can be summoned wants a shit ton of useless blood? Like what if I wanted food? And two, how am I supposed to beat up Trigon if he’s still stuck in the prison realm?”
“I have a cup of coffee,” Nightwing offered. “Kid Flash could probably get you food, right?”
“Yep, surethinganythingyouwantyourMajesty.”
“You wouldn’t catch me alive accepting food from a speedster. You people fuck up the timelines so much,” Danny grumbled, crunching on the last of Raven’s brothers. Raven thought she should probably sit down.
“But you’re dead.” Batman said, something about his voice catching the sharp attention of his protégés who all started making cutting motions at him.
“Fair,” Danny pointed at him, grinning. “I’ll take two pizza and Nightwing’s coffee as payment for taking care of your little demon overlord problem. Raven, summon your dad.”
——
Didn’t much like the characterization of this piece but it’s been in my drafts for a while and I needed it out
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anantaru · 4 months
Note
hii <3 do you think that dr ratio or argenti would be into eating you out? like argenti just being so sweet abt it, he’s such a cutiee. and dr ratio doing it like he claims you or smth. idkk they could be anything but i’m interested if these two boys would be into thatt. ( ps your writing is so good… i love it sm 🙏🏻🙏🏻🫶🏻)
including. dr ratio, argenti
cw. oral (fem! receiving), petnames used: doll, angel, fem! reader
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— ꒰ VERITAS RATIO ꒱ + rough & sloppy
veritas cannot lie to himself but he finds it adorable how you cannot mutter out a single word right now, and the only thing you were still capable of doing was holding your thighs apart so he could fit his head in between and fill your tummy with consistent pleasure.
"you don't want to show me how you feel, doll?" he utters in that unbearably arrogant tone he adored to use on you whenever he proved you wrong as you shake your head, your sticky cream coating his chin, "hmm... well, i'll just force it out of you then, don't you think that's fair?" a refined mewl spills from you when he licks at your folds again, never breaking the eye contact and not caring if you'd end up making a mess of his entire face with your sweet liquids.
and the way his tongue vibrates on your pussy was turning you head over heels for the man, the coarse laps of his tongue full of affection that your toes curl at each lick, and he only gets rougher with proactive drags of his tongue rolling over your hole and collecting everything you give him.
by now, your core has been drenched by a mixture of your slick and his spit, and your legs shake when he kneads the skin on your thighs as to simultaneously comfort you and hold you deep against his greedy face.
one more, just to taste you once more, and you're finally showing him what he does to you, your labored breathing exhaling with the rapid thumping of your heart as your thighs clench around him to ride his face, his enthralling eyes looking more graceful and dark with no mercy reflecting off of them.
you lift yourself onto your elbows to get a better view of the mess on your lower area, watching him closely as the sensation of his mouth made you lose your mind.
your fingers move swift as to reach down and twist into his soft hair, holding him tightly into your cunt when he flips his tongue left and right, his breath hitting your pussy with every exhale— your folds were just so hot, so wet, and squishy that he needs to suckle on them before filling you with his cum later.
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— ꒰ ARGENTI ꒱ + attentive & fast
oh, you sure as hell are starting to see stars when argenti suckles on your folds, with his nose dragging into your cunt the more he forces his head in between your thighs— but you're unable to meet his gaze and it saddens him, despite the fact that it felt so deliciously good, doesn't it?
"argenti.." you moan his name just above a whisper of your labored breathing, your lower lip trembling at how dirty it felt to have him lap around your cunt like a mad man, his hands continuously feeling you up when you arch your back into his mouth.
"yes, angel?" his eyes flicker up with lust, "enjoying yourself for me?"
argenti receives no response, at least not a verbal one, instead you hum dazedly as your eyes flutter shut when his nose rolls between the flesh that protected the little pearl on your cunt, your swollen pussy aching to feel more of the friction it so desperately desires.
"such a good girl," he groans into your pussy, lowering one hand from your thigh to your hole as he gently pushes into it before curling deep to scissor your cunt. fuck, argenti simply cannot tear his eyes off you.
you're just so impossibly perfect to him, and he treats you like an ancient treasure whenever he received the gift of going down on you.
you repeatedly whisper his name imbedded in praises as you left it to your crumbling voice to find his ears— and argenti wasn't sure on who, out of the two of you, would break under the pressure first.
because listen closely now, your pussy was like none he has ever tasted before and he hopes you know it by the way he circles the tip of his pink muscle so precisely into you.
you turned him achingly hard, his tongue pressing upwards and back only to lap slightly faster, ugh, he swears that every time you chant his name or tremble your legs around his head he can feel his cock throb in his pants, pushing harder and harder against his boxers.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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riediaries · 4 months
Text
the wailing sound of a baby fills up the room for the nth time tonight. the crying continues and becomes louder throughout the second.
you groan, waking up from your needed sleep. as much as you want to wake up satoru to take care of her, you can't. you are both equally tired and sleep-deprived because of your daughter.
you try to get up slowly to not wake up satoru but he already beat you into it. he gets up and pushes your body gently to the bed.
"sleep some more." he leans down to give your forehead a kiss and then gets up to be with his baby daughter.
"hi mochi." he smiles to her. that smile alone makes her feel really safe and comfortable as she's now calming down. she raises her two chubby hands, wanting her daddy to carry her.
"do you think it's too early for you to wake us up?" he jokes. satoru checks her diaper for poop just in case and after that, he carefully puts his gentle hands on her body to lift her up.
you can not take off your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you. quietly observing the two white haired baby and the big baby.
satoru continues to rock her body as he hums in a melodic tone. the crying comes to stop and she hiccups.
"yes.. yes.. daddy's here.." he swaddles his baby around his arm in a gentle way, afraid to hurt her in any way.
you get up and your feet automatically makes its way to your little family. you hug your husband by the waist, putting your chin on his shoulder to see your daughter eyeing his father. blue eyes to blue eyes.
you were not glad by the genes of this man covering your daughter whole. from head to toe. she's the carbon copy of her dad but on the other side, you were happy that the only man you love is practically the twin of your daughter.
this thought makes another thought on your mind in which you giggle.
satoru breaks his eye contact with his baby and turns his head to you. "hm? what is it? and shouldn't you be sleeping?"
you continue to giggle and put your forehead on his shoulder, an attempt to muffle your giggles but satoru's plump lips makes out a smile.
"what is it? what's funny?" he asks again. he's curious why you're giggling a little too much.
you sigh and turns your head to meet his stunning blue eyes that was passed down on your daughter.
you look at your daughter first who's already eyeing you, too. great. two pairs of beautiful eyes watching you.
"there's this saying.." you start and your attention goes back to satoru.
he hums, signaling you to continue.
"this saying says that whoever was the carbon copy of the kid was the one who enjoyed a little too much during the making.." you burst out of laughing.
as you make your point, satoru chuckles at that saying, slightly agreeing. "oh?" he raises an eyebrow and grins.
"oh.. is that so?" he wiggles his eyebrows this time.
"mhm.." you hum. "so.. you enjoyed it a lot, huh, satoru?" you tease him.
he laughs quietly. "uh-huh, you caught me, babe." he leans to you, pecking your lips shortly. "i enjoyed it a lot and i will enjoy it more in the future." he whispers on your lips as teases you back.
it's now your turn to frown. "no way." you roll your eyes to dismiss his earlier thought.
he grins even more and turns his attention back to the baby who's been quiet. "but she needs siblings soon enough to have a playmate. isn't that right, baby?" babying the words in the last sentence.
"c'mon. you clearly enjoyed the making, too. even though just a little of your genes were taken out for our baby." he laughs and your daughter giggles, it's as if she's teaming up with him to tease you.
"oh my.. what a little rebellion we have right now." you chuckle at your daughter's early stages of being a mini satoru.
"you should team up with mommy when you grow up." you boop her nose which made her giggle more, making you and satoru smile at your child that has you and satoru's best qualities.
giggles and laughs filled the room at three am in the morning, too early for some playful interaction with your little family.
"no, right? baby girl should team up with daddy and that's why, mommy.." he turns to you again. "we should make another one for you to have a teammate soon enough." he laughs, louder this time.
"no–"
"but this time, i will make sure you'll enjoy more than me so that the second one will be your own very carbon copy." he grins and you slap his back.
what a rough future you'll be expecting.
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clan-ackerman · 1 month
Text
-----mdni-----
------18+-----
🩸🩸 BUTTER KNIVES🩸🩸
Human!Alastor x f!reader
blood / size kink / bitting / incorrect usage of knives / virgin reader / fucking in general / ALASTOR IS FILTHY AS HELL / porn with plot
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Your father always disapproved of him. A girl like you should never marry such man.
"A radio host? Pumpkin, you need a man who will be able to look after you when you grow old." Your father had said to you when you had gathered all your courage at dinner table one evening.
"But... I love him father..." You mumbled quietly.
"Love? You're far too young to know what love is. And besides, didn't you see at the ball how all the girls were looking at him? I can bet, that he looks at all the girls the same." Your father continued and dabbing at his moustache with napkin, cleared his throat:
"I must head out. Moon is out tonight and it's perfect for hunting. Lads will be waiting on me by now."
"Stay safe." Your mother kissed your father on cheek and saw him off. You were left sitting alone at the table, staring at your half eaten plate.
"Dont take it so hard, petal." Your mother stood next to you and gently run her hand through your hair.
"A man I respect is keeping me away from the man that my heart yearns for..." You sighed.
"Does father want me to marry someone I do not love? I'd kill myself in such marriage, mother."
"Don't even say such thing. You know your father is only looking out for you. For your future." Your mother said, trying to calm you.
"Alastor is also looking out for me." You narrowed your eyes at mother. With a hard look down at you, your mother advised:
"I think... It would be better if you did not see him anymore. Don't make your father angry, petal."
You looked up at her, not believing what she had just said.
"What..? Mama... How could you say such thing?" Your lip started to tremble. With blurry vision you looked around the table, butter knives shining in dim light. With angry huff you tried to brush your tears away and stood up, chair falling over in process. Your mother took a step back:
"Behave now." Mother said in sharp tone. You took a quick glance at the clock on the mantle piece and then bolted for the door.
"Where are YOU going at such hour?!" Your mother grabbed your hand before you even got two steps away from table.
"Clearly away from here." You spat, not breaking eye contact.
"You will sit back down, finish your dinner and go straight to bed." Your mother stated, her grip on your arm tightening. What she didn't notice, was how your other hand sneaked behind you and blindly reached for the first thing - the glimmering butter knife.
"I will not do such thing. Now. Let. Go." You said through gritted teeth.
"That's it. You insolent daughter." Your mother's hand reached up to grab your hair, but before she could do so - you were pointing the knife at her.
With wide eyes, both of you stared at the knife that was between you two.
"Mother.... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean--"
Your mother looked up at you and in one swift motion slapped you right across your face. With a cry you clutched your cheek and finally escaped the house. Leaving your mother to seeth back at the doorstep.
Quickly running down the front stairs of the house, you bolted across the yard. Ducked through the wooden fence that held your father's horses out of mother's garden, and run bare feet in the field. Trying to put as much distance between her and yourself.
When you finally had reached the other far off side of stockyard, you felt like you could breath again. Not bothering to climb over the fence you sat in the wet dewy grass and leaned against the fence pole. Distinct sounds of hunters gunshots and hound howls echoed in the forest behind.
You looked down at your hands. Right one still clutching the butter knife. From holding it incorrectly in your hand while on the run, you had accidentally nicked your fingers. New tears gathered in your eyes and you let out pathetic whimper.
"Y/n...?" You heard steps approaching on the other side of the fence on the gravel road.
"A-Alastor?" You immediately jumped up. Switching the knife from one clammy hand to other and hiding it behind your back. Now free hand, whipped your nose and cheeks, unknowingly to you - leaving red streaks across your face.
"What has my darling doe crying?" He quickly approached the fence when he picked up on your sniffling.
"Its fine, Alastor. Just had quarrel with my mother." You tried to laugh it off.
"A bloody one, as I see." He eyed you, reaching for your cheek. You tried to step away, but his warm touch was so inviting.
"Show me your hands, love." he said. He wasn't asking.
Swallowing thickly you brought both hands in front of you. Feeling like child in trouble. Trembling, and both bloody by now.
"We were having family dinner. And my father was reminiscing on the previous ball. And asked if I fancied any men there-" Alastor eyed you sharply for a second, unknowingly to you as you kept on rambling:
"-and I said that there was a man that I have had eyes for such long time, that the other men at the ball didn't even interest me. And he asked who. I said it's you. And he said that I should look elsewhere. I stood my ground and told him I love you. And he disapproved. Then mother said I should listen to him. Then she was screaming, saying I should stop seeing you. I got angry. She grabbed me. Tried to pull my hair and I... I just -I just pulled a knife at her... And then... And now I'm here..." You ranted so quickly that now you were out of breath.
With gentle chuckle, Alastor reached for your hand that was holding the knife, his ever seeing eyes, noticing the cuts on your other palm. He slowly frapped your fingers alongside his around the hilt of the butter knife and pulled both of your hands across the fence.
"When in dire straits, slice the sinew to halt movement," he murmured, gently drawing the knife across his chest. "Stab and pivot to temporarily cease motion," he directed, gesturing towards the center of his chest.
"You're wicked, Alastor..." You mumbled looking up at him.
"And you should never shed your blood. Though I am touched by your eagerness in defending your convictions concerning me, I would prefer not to witness your blood spilled, my love."
"Even if blood is such a pretty colour on you." He continued, his eyes flickering across your face. Standing up on the first wooden beam of the fence, he now stood way taller than you. Grabbing your chin he tilted your face one way, then the other.
"Since you say I'm wicked-" he gave you a cheeky smile,
"I might be afraid that your parents are correct. You should stay away from me." He looked away from you and across the field behind you.
"But I love you, Alastor..." You whispered so quietly, afraid that he might not have heard you.
"You have brought a knife in bloody hands tonight. What an odd way of confessing one's love." He bent his head closer to your face.
"What a lovely thing you are." His voice suddenly sounded sultry. It was enough for you to stand on your tippy toes and press your lips against his.
You could feel his smile against your lips. One of his hands sneaking to hold the back of your neck and pulling you closer. When that was not enough, in swift motion his legs swung over the fence and he was right in front of you. His lips never leaving yours.
It felt so right to kiss him. To kiss him felt like finally quelling an obsession. Just to feel the painful withdrawal as soon as his lips traveled to your neck to leave love bites there. Love bites that bloomed the same way as the blood splatters on your light summer dress.
His hands traveled down your back, the butter knife still in his hand. Both of you knew that no one would come down this road at this hour, but there was urgency in your actions. Desperation, almost. Your hands traveled to the front of his shirt, to get rid of the bow tie and open couple of buttons.
"The next move shan't be quite gentlemanly of me, my doe.." he was breathing hard and put the hilt of the knife in his mouth. His tongue briefly tasted your blood on it. Alastor's hands deftly gathered the skirt part of your dress and pushed you against the fence. Then raising the fabric around your hips and bunching it to the side, he grabbed the knife and pinned your dress to the fence.
"Alastor..." Your breath caught in your throat as your lower half was exposed to the cold nights air.
"Too much?" He asked, now stepping closer as his hands worked on his belt.
He clearly did intend to fuck you here. In empty field. Against a fence. In middle of the night.
"No, just perfect, you're perfect..." you breathed, hands looping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
"Lovely." He whispered and kissed you. His hand reaching down between your legs.
"Ah..." You moaned at the first contact.
"Needy little thing you are..." Alastor sighed against your lips, feeling the wetness between your legs.
It was the first time someone else's hands were touching you down there, besides your own. Feeling was not entirely new, but the anticipation was almost killing you. Your hand around Alastor's neck tightened, pulling him down, so you could hide your face in his shoulder. Breath heavy against his neck.
His fingers deftly slid through your slit.
"How.. many...?" Alastor implied, trying to shift his face away and look at you, making him pull his hand slightly away and his fingers circling back to your clit.
"Ah.." you gasped, not hearing his question and just trying to hide your face again.
"Sweetheart..." Alastor's hand slid from your cunt and instead dug his fingers in - right where your thigh met your pussy. This finally got your attention and your head shot up to look at him. You could almost swear that you could see your own debauched image reflecting in his glasses. He tilted his head down at you, and your reflection was gone and his warm eyes were staring right into your soul.
"How many men you have sle-" before he could ask the question you were shaking your head.
"None. No one." You said. "None has touched me this way," you looked down at his hand between your legs. His pointer finger that was closest to your pussy, slowly slid through your slit once more. Your head fell back and you stared at the sky. Stars were slowly starting to appear in the night sky.
"... except myself." You swallowed. Your head feeling empty of any coherent thought. Alastor's mouth fell open slightly:
"Say the word, and I'll stop, my doe..." He leaned down to your exposed neck, and gently run his nose up and down your pulse point.
Your hand shot down and grabbed his wrist:
"I want you and you alone."
His smile against your neck was almost infectious.
"Well, then... To rephrase..." He planted slow, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his free hand pulling your dress down your shoulder. He moved his lips against your ear, as if to tell you something that no one else could ever hear:
"...How many of your own fingers have you taken?" you could hear his wicked smile in his voice. And you could feel his hand moving between your legs. His middle finger slowly, almost feather lightly, circled your clit and slid down to your opening. Your breath hitched:
"A-Alastor..."
When you didn't provide him the answer, he quickly pulled his hand out of your underwear and grabbed your hand putting it up between both of you. He pressed his palm against yours and looked at your hands. You did the same. Both of you could see how his fingers shined in the moonlight from your wetness coating them.
"Tell me."
"One."
"How far?"
You were staring at your pressed together hands. He was looking straight at you, watching how your eyes showed the realization of how much bigger his hands were and how longer his fingers were.
"Second knuckle..." You whispered and your eyes met his, over the frames if his glasses.
"Oh, my little doe... I will give you so much more than that..." He chuckled and looked at your hands as his fingers interlinked with yours.
"When I kneel before you, you shall receive all I offer. Diligently." He let go of your hand and took off his glasses.
"Understood?"
You nodded. For such a gentleman, he definitely had such a filthy mouth. You'll soon learn it both ways.
"Hold these for me, will you?" He innocently asked and put his glasses on you, quite lower so you could stare over the round frames. Before you could say anything else, he was on his knees in the dewy grass, both of his hands sliding up your bare legs. His lips gently leaving kisses on your hips as he dragged your panties down your legs. You couldn't look away from him. His soft lips moving from one hip, across your stomach to the other side. His fingers running between your folds, time to time coming up to circle your clit and then tease your entrance by dipping in a fingertip.
"Mark me..." you breathed out as one of your hands slid to his hair.
"That will hurt." He looked up at you.
"You won't hurt me. I trust you, Al..." You said through a moan.
"...where...?" He quietly inquired.
God, please, everywhere.
"Here..." you gently tapped your hip. Alastor smiled, leaned closer, pressed his lips to the top of your hand and then gently bit your fingertip.
"This shall mean you're mine, my love, I hope you are preparing for the consequences that it ensues." He said against your skin as you pulled your hand away.
"I was yours as soon as our eyes locked when I saw you riding horses with the hunters all those years ago..." You moaned as his fingers circled your clit, as if he was encouraging you to finish your though. Next second, you felt his teeth sink into your skin and his middle finger plunging into you.
"Alastor! Ah.." both of your hands flew to his hair, as your hips jerked against his hand.
"Shhh.." Alastor smiled against the blooming love bite. His eyes then locked on how you were taking his finger.
"Good girl." His smiled and looked up at you. His other hand joining to circle your clit.
"Oh Lord..." You moaned. He playfully rolled his eyes at you and leaned his temple against your hip.
"Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." He praised, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He twisted his finger and you let out a high pitch keen.
"Look at me." He straighted a little. Your eyes locked with his. Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out. Your eyes grew big, and a flash of warmth traveled down from your chest to your legs. Your pussy involuntary clamping down on his finger. And then his mouth was on you. As soon as his tongue got the first taste of you, his eyes fell shut and he moaned against you, sending vibrations straight through you.
"Ahh...ha...." You moaned loudly, both hands moving to his hair and pulling it. He lapped at your pussy as if he was a starving man. He sucked on your clit and then you felt a second finger stretching you open.
"Please.... Just don't stop..." You moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth. His fingers picked up the speed and your breathing did the same.
"I think I'm going to..." Your hold on his hair grew tighter and you were starting to push his mouth harder against your weeping cunt. Alastor grunted, his hand that was constantly squeezing your ass traveled down to his crotch and palmed himself. His pants growing too tight.
Alastor curled his fingers forward and sucked hard on your clit. With a loud cry you came on his fingers and tongue. You yourself could never reach such intense peak. Your toes curled, your knees almost wishing to pull together. You pressed Alastor's head closer to your dripping core, at the moment careless if he could breathe or not.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckkk..." Your eyes rolled back into your skull. For a moment you felt weightless, your hands falling away from his hair, to hold onto to the fence beams that you were leaning against.
Flatly dragging his tongue from your twitching hole up your slit to the clit, he placed chaste kiss on your mound. Alastor leaned back and looked up at you.
When you had gathered at least some wits about you, you looked down at him. His chin and lips were glistening from your cum.
"You taste sweet." He gave you a wink and licked his lips.
"Alastor..." You whispered his name and in swift motion crossed your hands and pulled the dress over your head. Leaving it hanging by the knife. Alastor was caught off guard and sat back, his hands slowly starting to unbutton his vest and then his shirt.
Was Alastor intending to fuck you against the fence or where you intending to ride him in the dewy grass?
In two quick steps you were in front of him and straddling his hips. Your lips immediately seeking out his and hands helping him to unbutton his shirt faster. With a groan he pulled away and grabbing your hand dragged it down his chest to the front of his pants. Unzipping his pants you dipped your hand in his boxers.
"Fuck..." He moaned, his eyes rolling back. You wrapped your hand around his cock and gently freed him from the confines of his pants.
"How is that going to fit...?" You blurted out when you looked down at him and gave him two long strokes.
"... perfectly..." He hissed through his teeth and threw his head back when your thumb swiped across his dripping tip. You switched your hands, and raised now free hand up to your face. Alastor looked at you through lidded eyes. Gently you licked your finger, tasting him on your skin. Seeing you do that, Alastor's hips jerked up into your fist and his eyes fluttered shut.
"Lover." He gritted through clenched teeth. His hands coming to hold your hips. You only smiled at your ability to drive him as insane and he was driving you. You slid your hand down to his base and gently squeezed.
"Cheeky little thing..." Alastor opened his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss by your neck. It was slow but messy. Tongues twisting, saliva smearing against both of your lips.
You got up on your knees and wrapped your hands around Alastor's neck. However, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock alongside his own.
"Now, now." He smiled against your lips. "You gotta learn how to take it. Put. It. In." Alastor whispered absolute filth against your lips and moved your hand so that his cock dragged through your soaked folds.
With a shaky breath you dragged his cock through your folds once more. Pausing on your clit and moaning against Alastor's lips.
"Yes... Take your pleasure..." He whispered.
Then moving his cock down, you pushed it's tip against your entrance. And then with a hissfrom your mouth, your hips were flush with his. The unknown feeling between your legs made you bite Alastor's lip. He groaned in your mouth, but didn't pull away if both of you felt the tangy taste of blood.
Alastor was patient with you, and let you decide when and how to move. But once your hips started to twitch against his, Alastor ground hips up into yours. His warm hands moved up to your back and shoulder blades to pull you closer. Your own hands tangled themselves in his dark hair and scratched down his back. By now your moans were echoing the same as the hounds of the hunters.
"Harder.. Al... Please..." You moaned against his cheek, as your hips moved up and down. Your desperate cunt twitching around his cock and making Alastor moan in your ear.
Next moment you were on your back, your legs on his shoulders as he leaned over you. Your eyes locked with his. Both of you as mirrored image to each other. Hair disheveled, foreheads sweaty, short rapid breaths. And then he was fucking you as if this is the last night out here with stars. As if the coming morning you won't stop by the coffee shop where he gets his morning dose of caffeine.
The way his cock so deliciously dragged against your walls - you had nothing in this world to compare it to. Leaking tip of his cock was carving your cunt out with every push back in, and each drag of it made you clench around him. As if to say, that you need him back in and not let him pull out.
You grabbed Alastor's cheeks:
"I'm in love with you...." He said first, as if he had read your thoughts on what you were about to say.
"I love you." You smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss that was broken by your moan as Alastor gave harsh thrust, hitting your cervix. Making you lose your breath momentarily.
"More.. please..." You begged, your cunt twitching around him.
"Fuck..." Alastor moaned, his hips taking on harsher and faster movements. You could swear that you felt him in your guts. Your hand traveled down your stomach and pressed on the outline of his cock. He smirked at you, as if saying that no other cock will ever be this deep, no one ever will pleasure you the same way.
"You're mine..." He groaned. Letting your legs off his shoulders, he pulled your lower lip with his thumb until your mouth opened and he could slide his finger in. Your tongue latched around his digit and sucked hard, making him stutter in his movements as he wondered how to use that mouth of yours in other ways.
With press on your tongue, your mouth opened once more, Alastor pulled his finger out and dived in to kiss you. Your tongues meeting before your lips could. You moaned in his eager mouth as his wet thumb now circled your clit. Your hips raising to meet his thrusts. When your wandering hands were enough for him, he grabbed them and pinned both of them above your head.
"Keep them there..." He said breathlessly and leaned back lifting your hips with his.
He was fucking you like drowning animal would fight for air. And the pleasure was rapidly pulling both of you under. The way your cunt clenched around him more and more frequently, was a sign that you were close. As if not being able to stand not touching him, your hand raised to rest on his stomach, feeling the lean muscles flexing there.
Not wanting to soil you on your first sexual encounter, Alastor was ready to pull out when your legs wrapping around his hips locked him in place. Sliding his hands up your legs and then sides, he leaned over you.
Your orgasm approached you unknowingly, as such intense feeling you have never felt before.
"I got you. Just let go." Alastor said against your chest as his forehead rested against your collarbone. With a moan that stole all your breath - you came. Alastor's name tumbling out of your lips like the sweetest honey. Your body arched off the ground and pressed against Alastor. Not knowing what to do with your hands as all nerve ends felt like going haywire, you opt to grab Alastor's hips and, as if your legs being locked around him wasn't enough, you pulled him against you.
Corrupting such sweet doe as yourself felt so rewarding. He could almost feel your orgasm on his tongue. Perhaps that was just taste of your cunt that kept lingering on his tongue. His own hips stuttered and with deep groan he came deep inside you, his teeth latching on the side of your left breast, leaving another love bite to remind you of this night of debaucheries.
For a moment neither of you moved. Still ongoing gunfires of hunters and howls of hounds could be heard echoing, meaning that hunt was still on. And you could return home without your father seeing you here.
Alastor wrapped one hand around your back and gently laid you back on ground.
"I must beg your pardon. A lady such as yourself ought never to be deflowered in such a place for the first time." He said quietly against your soft breasts that were still raising and falling in short breaths.
"Oh, hush. I enjoyed myself very much so." You took a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. Alastor looked at you and you smiled at him. Gently running your hands through his hair in order to tame it.
Steadying himself on his hands, Alastor pulled out and couldn't help but to stare at your cunt that was already leaking his cum. Catching him staring, ought to teas him a little bit. Bending your legs you spread them open. Gaining Alastor's attention, you trailed one hand down your body and dipped your fingertips in your folds. Shyly looking to the side you spread your folds, making more cum leak out. Alastor was watching your hand like it was a prey.
"Darling-" Alastor warned as his lashes fluttered. He leaned to kiss your knee instead. Fighting so hard not to take your overstimulated body the second time.
"We should talk in the morning." Alastor got up with a sigh, tucked himself away and walked over to the fence to retrieve your dress.
You quietly got dressed, not questioning anything. You weren't sure what we're you to say in such moment. While you were getting dressed you couldn't help but stare as Alastor was putting on his shirt. His skin on the back scratched by your nails. Or how the fingers you had cut had smeared blood all over his body.
"Shall I escort you home?" Alastor turned to you.
"No. It's late, we both should be getting home and to bed. And besides, I know this field like back of my hand." You shook your head.
"Alright." Alastor tilted his head to the side and smiled. He walked up to you and gently took off his glasses from you.
"Not a scratch. Good girl." He praised you, leaning down to your eye level. Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you quickly pressed your lips against his.
As he watched you walk back home, you couldn't help the smile that was on your lips. The faithful butter knife clutched carefully in your hands, will be neatly stored in your vanity as a reminder.
Meanwhile Alastor was sitting on the fence, watching you walk away, with skip in your step. Once you were far enough, he hauled himself over the fance, back on the road. What you had not seen at the very beginning, was that Alastor had come with knive of his own. Quite menacing butcher knife, that he had wedged in the nearby tree.
You were almost home. You had just ducked through the fence and walked quietly across the yard when, one, so much differently sounding gunshot, made you turn back around and stare at the field where you had come from....
-----------
Part 2?
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months
Text
ruined.
LN x fem!reader - 4k celebration
based on this request!
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in which, why wouldn’t they fall in love?
back with another celebration request! thank u anon, love this one sm! so tempted to make something longer form outta this one omg... lemme know what you think of this, hugs hugs hugs
i had to reupload this! sorry if you already interacted :(
songs to set the mood: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas, you are in love by taylor swift, sofia by clairo, till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas
warnings: 18+!! minors go away dni!! smut, fluff, swearing, alcohol consumption, voyeurism? kinda? friends to lovers, mutual pining
3.4k words
“i bring gifts!” you call out, throwing the keys on the side. you shuffle your feet against the doormat, awkwardly balancing the bottle of wine you hold in one hand and the box of pizza in the other. it doesn’t help that you feel like the michelin man, bundled up in a jacket and a scarf. you kick off your boots, leaving them haphazardly in the hallway.
“in the kitchen.” lando shouts back, and you trudge towards the sound of his voice, sliding around in your fluffy socks.
“i hate all of those stupid little cars that everyone in monaco seems to drive.” you tut, sliding the pizza box across the counter, the bottle of wine clinking against the granite.
“even my jolly?” lando pouts. he’s waiting with two wine glasses, even though you’ll drink most of the merlot while he scrunches his nose up in distaste, but this is routine, standard procedure.
“i do miss the jolly, to be fair.” you give him that much, grinning playfully.
five minutes later, your coat and scarf are long forgotten, slung over one of the high chairs that line his breakfast bar. you’re in the living room, sprawled on one end of the couch, him on the other. your feet rest in his lap and the pizza box rests across your knees. some series you’ve been trying to watch for weeks is playing on netflix, but you aren’t really paying much attention.
“so, you’re telling me,” you pause to take another bite of pizza, swallowing between giggles, “you’re telling me that you heard oscar through the wall?” you choke.
“yeah, i’m telling you! little oscar is definitely not… little, from what i heard.” he cackles. “and then afterwards, bless them, they were all dishevelled and he would not make eye contact with me.” lando explains, both of you a mess of giggles.
“oscar piastri, what a minx.” you shake your head in disbelief.
“as if that’s what i needed, by the way! the dry spell was not helped by whatever him and lily were getting at.”
“dry spell? you? don’t lie to me, norris.” you kick him gently.
“what? i’m serious! start of the season has been so busy, haven’t had time to… get busy.” he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes.
“welcome to my world, you prick.” you tease, kicking him again. you catch his ribs as you do, knowing full well you’ve hit the prime tickle spot.
“what’s your excuse?”
“excuse you, i’m a busy gal! we can’t all be famous jet-setting f1 drivers.” you feign offence, and he grins toothily.
“i meant,” he starts, speaking slowly as if you’re stupid, and for a third time, you kick him, a tad harder than the last two times. “you’re a catch, how are you not getting laid?”
you pray he can’t see the way you’ve gone pink.
truthfully, he’s the damn reason. how can any man live up to the one and only lando norris? how can anyone compare to your best friend? world famous, beautiful, down right hilarious, beautiful!
lando’s the guy that picks up the pieces every time some loser breaks your heart. he’s the guy who’s key you keep on your overflowing keychain, the guy who buys duplicates of the skincare products you use, so you can keep them at his place - you still laugh every time you remember the first time he tried to pronounce salicylic acid. he’s basically your guy, but after 10 years of friendship, you’re not willing to tell him that.
“just… not.” you shrug, tucking your hair behind your ear. he hums in response, sounds like he doesn’t believe you, but he drops it.
you sink three glasses of red, the pizza box is on the floor, and your eyes are drooping, heavy.
“bedtime for you, methinks.” lando whispers, gently shifting your feet from his lap. you frown, missing his touch already. you make grabby hands at him, too comfy to move on your own. “want me to carry you?” you nod lazily, a smile stretching across your face.
he slides one hand under your legs, the other under your back, and hoists you up. he holds you close to his chest, your head resting against his heart, so close that you can hear the soft thrum that keeps him warm.
“thank you.” you murmur as he places you softly on your- his guest bed.
“anytime, honey.” he smiles down at you. he thinks you’re so pretty like this, so sleepy and cosy. he fights the demons that tell him to crawl into the empty space beside you. “there’s some water here, sleep well, love.” he walks away, reaching the door when:
“love you.” you coo. he shivers. you always say it, and he always says it back, but lately, it pains him.
“yeah. love you too.”
lando pulls the door to quietly, leaning against the wood for a moment trying to compose himself.
-
it’s been an hour, and you’re sobered up, wide awake in the dark.
you try to fall asleep, really, you do, but your mind is moving a thousands miles an hour, and all you can think about is his dry spell. your dry spell.
how can you sleep when you know he’s on the other side of the wall, as needy as you are for a warm body. you also know that you’ve soaked through your underwear. you’re wildly uncomfortable, restless, desperate for a sweet release, whether that be of sleep, or something else.
you can’t ask him, it would be a step too far, despite how torturously close you already are. so instead, you drive yourself insane with the thought of him; the image of him, head thrown back, slick and sweaty, cock hard in his hand.
what’s the harm in helping yourself out?
you’re throbbing, hot all over. you lose the war with yourself and your hand trails shamelessly down your body. you’re so sensitive that you’re instantly stifling moans, hand slapped over your mouth. you can’t get the earlier image out of your head, and you pray he’s on the other side of the wall thinking about you. you’re desperate, bucking your hips into your hand, aching for a release. you wish your hands were lando’s, big and rough, toying with every quivering part of you.
you have an idea, a twisted one, the kind that almost sends you over the edge. what would happen if you let yourself be as loud as you wanted, if you tore your hand away and cried out like you wanted to? every shred of rationality leaves your needy body.
you’re whining, clear as day. your resist calling out his name as your high builds, tweaking your clit between your fingers. you’re so dangerously close, hovering right on the edge. that’s when you hear it.
on the other side of the wall, your vision of lando has become a reality. your faint whines through the wall have him rock hard, fucking his own hand. he wishes it could be yours, and with the way you’re crying out, he doesn’t think you’d oblige to sitting on his lap, wet and pretty, and letting him sink his cock nice and deep.
but he can’t cross that line. not with you. it doesn’t matter how badly he wants you, how he’d go to the ends of the earth for you. one night wasn’t worth ten years of friendship, washed down the drain.
his hand speeds up, his head thrown back, at the same time as you slip two fingers inside of yourself. you fingers curl, hitting deep when you hear a throaty groan sounding from the other side of the wall.
you’d think a millionaire would have thicker walls.
he hears the exact moment you cum, a noticeable change in your sounds. they’ve gone up an octave, breathless, and before he can even register, he’s spurting thick white ribbons that land hotly on his skin.
you clean yourselves up, rooms apart but the same exact things running through your minds.
i just got off to the sound of my best friend.
-
you nibble the crusts of your toast. the kitchen is quiet, painfully so, and the air is still.
lando has his back to you, making you another cup of coffee. he’s forgone a shirt and you try your absolute best to ignore the warm glow of his skin. he looks radiant. you know why; orgasms can do that.
“lando-“
“we don’t need to talk about it, honey.”
“um, i was just gonna tell you that you’re burning your toast.” you snicker.
“oh, fuck.” he slides along the floor to the toaster, burning his fingers on blackened bread.
when he turns to you, he’s tinged red, grinning bashfully.
“moving on.”
“i need to get home but dinner later? i won’t stay the night.” you wink. you crave the normalcy that once was, the light, teasing nature of your friendship.
“i’ll cook.” he’s still blushing.
“ooh, on second thought.” you suck air through your teeth, pulling a face.
“get outta here.” he sticks his tongue out at you.
-
dinner was… well, it was edible.
he made spaghetti and some kind of sauce, one that you couldn’t quite work out the contents of but it was good enough.
“thanks, lan.” you smile softly, helping him clear the few plates off the table.
“anytime, honey.” he replies.
you’re standing at the sink, placing the cutlery down when you feel him behind you. you spin around, instantly regretting it, because you’re caged in. he’s leaning up to reach into a cupboard, frozen. so, so close. his panicked breath fans your face and you can feel the heat of his body.
you lean in, because why wouldn’t you? and so does he, so, so close. your hand that rests on the edge of the sinks moves so that you can reach out and cup his disgustingly perfect face but then-
a knife that had been hovering between the counter and plunging into the soapy hot water gets nudged over the edge by your clumsy hand and clatters against into the bowl.
the irritating noise springs you both back to reality and he jumps away like an orange cat. you grimace at the awkward tension, and he scratches the back of his neck. and then you’re laughing, hard, and of course he joins in because this situation is utterly ridiculous and your laugh is so beautifully contagious.
“oh my god, what is wrong with us?” you wheeze through the laughter, leaning back against the counter.
“last night was… insane. and now everything feels weird so, let’s just go back to basics.” lando smiles gracefully. you nod.
“that sounds absolutely perfect.”
“netflix?”
“and chill?” you chime in sarcastically. he glares at you. “couldn’t help it.” you hold your hands up in faux surrender.
-
you don’t know when you fall asleep, but you conk out, head lulling against his shoulder when you do.
he haunts your dreams, fingers thick between your thighs while you whimper his name. you must be out of it, so deep in your slumber that it takes lando a good few coos of your name to draw you out of it.
when your eyes shoot open, he’s looking down at you, a single curl falling over his forehead, taunting you.
“you dreaming of me?” he grins, something in his eyes that snaps you out of your grogginess.
“wh-why?” you splutter, sitting up. he’s still so close to you, coy smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips,
“kept making these little sounds, panting my name. got me thinking.”
“about what?” you whisper.
“how much i wanted to pin you to that bed last night and make you cry for me.”
“is this gonna ruin us?” your voice trembles with a unique blend of fear and anticipation.
“after last night? baby, we’re already ruined.”
his lips meet yours, tentative for just a brief second, and then it’s passionate, warm, lightning. his hands are firm on your body, pulling you impossibly closer until there’s no other option but to clamber into his lap. your hands find his hair, tugging wildly until his curls are a disheveled mess, pulled every which way.
“you’re so beautiful. want to tell you all the time but-“ lando mumbles into your mouth, urgent and hushed.
“but friends don’t do that.” you cut him off.
he pulls away from you, his nose bumping yours. his eyes are so blue today, sparkly.
“i think we’re more than that.” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “i think we have been for a while.”
“yeah.” you pant. “yeah we have. yeah.” your eyes dart between his and his kiss swollen lips.
and then you’re licking into his mouth, sighing at the relief. he paws at your waist, warm hands sliding under your jumper, gliding over your hips and up, up, up, until he’s dragging the material over you head and tossing it carelessly to the side. he kisses over your collarbone, licking and nipping while his hands smooth over your bra. he plucks at the fasten, and you relax as it snaps open, and the straps slide over your shoulders.
“is this okay, angel?” he whispers.
“perfect.”
his thumbs trace over the curve of your breasts, teasing your nipples gently, enough to send shockwaves through your body. you’re subconsciously grinding down on him, dragging your hips over his crotch, mouth dropping open when you hear the way his breath catches in his throat.
“driving me insane, honey.” he gulps, rolling your nipples between his fingers. “need to get inside of you.”
“hurry up then.” you sound desperate to your ears, delicious to his.
“do you know how hard it was to stay in my room last night? when i could hear you making those pretty little noises? you’re so bad.” he tuts, lifting you off of his lap and laying you back against the couch.
nimble fingers undo your jeans and you jolt as he slides them down your thighs, intimate touches on intimate skin. you lace your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, and you moan into his open mouth when his fingers trail beneath your underwear.
lando dips his fingers between your folds, groaning as soon as he feels where your wetness has pooled in your panties. you’re intoxicating, he thinks, and he’s starving for you. he pries his hand from between your legs, lapping at his soaked digits. his eyes fall shut, eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks.
your taste sparks something within him, and he wriggles onto his belly, resting in between your thighs. he toys with your panties, just for a second, and he can’t help but latch on. he laves his tongue over the growing wet patch, eyes fluttering shut. he drags your underwear to the side, lapping over your cunt messily.
“taste so good.” he slurs into your pussy, depraved and ravenous. you buck your hips, the sensation of his words sending rumbles of vibrations to every one of your nerve endings.
you writhe against the plush couch, sinking deeper between the cushions as he fucks his tongue deeper and deeper, burrowing his face as far between your thighs as he can go.
“lando, ‘m so close.” you gasp, tugging hard at his curls, taking your nails across his scalp. he whimpers, whimpers, at the sensation and that’s enough to finish you off.
he keeps going, kitten licking you through your orgasm and you pant, nothing but white behind your squeezed shut eyes. you have you drag him away, overstimulated and twitching against the silvery grey fabric of the sofa.
“fuck.” you laugh, breathless.
“good?” he smirks.
“shut up and come here.” you make grabby hands at him, and he clambers over you, smiling wide, his lips coated shiny and red.
“you’re pretty.” he coos, licking his lips clean.
“so are you.” you whisper.
he collapses on top of you, urgently slotting his lips over yours. he slides his hands all over your frame, memorising every dip and curve, while your hands find the waistband of his joggers. you push the material down his hips gently tracing his hip bone; he shudders at the graze, kicking the fabric away and wrapping his hand around his cock.
you glance down, taking in the sight before you. he’s thick in his own hand, red and slick already, as he runs his hand over himself.
“you want me?” he manages to ask through gritted teeth.
“please.” you whine, reaching to replace his hand, but he bats you away.
“patience, baby. wanted you like this for so long, you can wait a few seconds.” he scolds, condescendingly.
you don’t get a chance to talk back, because he’s sliding inside of you, nice and slow. your eyes roll back at the delectable stretch, he’s bigger than you’ve had in a while, and you hum lowly. he kisses over your throat and you can hear his shaky breath fanning your ear. you’re fluttering around him, adjusting to him with small circles of your hips.
“do something.” you beg, hushed and breathless.
“you think you can take it?” lando taunts, but you can hear the way his voice waivers as your walls spasm around him.
“can you?” you whisper, giving as good as you get. something inside of him snaps and pride kicks in, because before you can even truly gloat, he’s barrelling into you.
you cling onto his shoulders greedily, digging your fingertips in to whatever part of him you can get hold of. he thrusts so deep, all the way in, before dragging fully out, leaving you aching for him to fill you up again. he’s going quick enough that you can’t really complain, but slow enough to tease, to drive you insane beneath him. it feels too good to hurry him up, he knows what he’s doing and you want to take it, feel him like this. you’re quivering, his cock hitting every single spot that makes you tick and you think you can die happy now that you’ve had him.
“i’m so close.” you warn, overstimulated from your first orgasm. he ups his pace, just enough to send you spiralling, and you can’t keep your eyes open as you let go, your legs kicking out.
it’s too much when you open your eyes and find him staring down at you, sleepy and sweaty. he’s gorgeous like this, pupils blown, bronze skin glistening in the low light. he feels the way you throb around him, still buried so deep.
“not done with you yet, angel. c’mere.” lando sits back, pulling your limp body along with him until your right back where you started, sprawled over his lap.
he’s so close to his own release, pained and restless, and you can feel the head rubbing against your clit. even in your state of pure exhaustion, you can’t help but grind down against him, and he lifts your hips enough for you to sink down on him.
your sounds of pleasure ricochet off of one another’s, animalistic contentment spilling from between two sets of equally swollen lips. you’re so full like this, rocking tiredly, backwards and forwards.
“just like that, baby. just like that.” he’s breathing heavily, brows furrowed. his head tips back, neck thick and flexed, and you’re thrown back into the deep end of your fantasy.
“oh my god.” you choke, tears of satisfaction building. “lando!” you cry, meeting his shallow thrusts. he’s guiding your hips up and down, just enough to hammer against that special spot that makes you whine his name.
“cum for me, baby, last one. know you can do it pretty girl.” the praise knocks the last bits of air out of you and you collapse forwards into his arms. he holds you tight, groaning sweet nothings and your name like a prayer, right in your ear.
“you’re definitely staying tonight.” lando laughs softly, coming down. you think back to your earlier refusal, grinning lazily.
“guest room?” you joke, kissing his shoulder.
he pulls you back so that he can look at you, cupping your face.
“you’re never staying in that room ever again.”
he kisses you, then. soft. warm. home.
it’s natural, everything you’ve been missing, and somehow the only thing you’ve been missing in your relationship with him. he already gave you everything you could ever need, tonight was the cherry on top.
“are we gonna be okay?” you whisper, so quiet that you can barely hear yourself. fear pools in your belly.
“i hope so. ‘cause i’m never letting you go now.”
-
i feel so warm inside hehe
-
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gaysindistress · 2 months
Text
The two times Simon almost killed Price and the one time Price almost killed Simon
First off yall blew up this post and I’m actually speechless 🥺 I’ve also hit 1,000 followers (SKDJJWDJJEJW) and will be working on the surprise fic shortly. I was working on some birthday posts and wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly so might be a bit before it comes out.
Simon’s masterlist
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1. When Simon was injured
Price called you to let you know that Simon was injured during an op and he would be fine but you should come get him from the base. Simon never lets you go to base and you knew if he was conscious, he would have an absolute fit and get a cab home. He’s a very private person and after what happened to his family, he’s not about to let you get anywhere close to work if he can help it.
You obviously know this but it’s Price who called you, not Simon. Price ends the call with ‘see ya soon, Mrs. Riley’ which simultaneously breaks your heart because you’re not his wife but also warms it. It also doesn’t give you a choice; you’ll be there whether you drive yourself or Price brings you.
The captain doesn’t tell anyone that you’re coming or who you are when you get there. He meets you at the entrance and escorts you in. Like a father might, he keeps you close to him as the two of you make your way across the base and to the clinic where Simon is resting. He wouldn’t let them send him off base to a hospital so they did what they could and he’s, of course, being difficult still.
The moment the others see you, their eyes widen because who is this? Why are you with Price? Why have they never seen you before? Are you his daughter? His niece? His controversially younger girlfriend? Who are you and why are you here of all places? You definitely scare the shit out of them let’s be real. You pull up looking like this and you’re with their captain.
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You have an aura of unwavering confidence and a resting bitch face that rivals Ghost’s. They don’t get the chance to pester you because Price is quickly shoving you into the room where Ghost is at and giving them all the death stare.
Simon does a double take when he sees you with wide eyes but doesn’t make any other indication that he knows you. The poor nurse who’s filling out his release paperwork is petrified and he looks like he’s about to pass out. You narrow your eyes at Simon because clearly he’s been his usual asshole self and that’s why this nurse is about to pass out.
You give the nurse a small smile as you tell him your name and that you’re who’s going to be taking care of Simon. The man’s knees almost give out from relief and he word vomits all of the information you’ll need while handing you the paperwork in a shaking hand. You thank him and wait for him to leave before you finally look at Simon.
He’s got his mask on like you expected but you can still read his eyes. He’s pissed.
All you say is “You were shot.”
He nods once.
“I’m your emergency contact.”
He nods once again.
“You don’t get to be mad that I’m here. If anyone gets to be upset and act like a child, it’s me. I’m the one who had to find out from your captain that you got hurt so badly that you’re being put on temporary medical leave for 6 weeks.“
He doesn’t nod this time. He just stares. Eventually he sighs and looks at the ground.
“‘M sorry.”
You sigh as well and give him the hug he’s craving but won’t ask for. You press a kiss to the top of his masked head and rub his back.
“It’s alright, my love.” You murmur into his sweaty mask. “Let’s go home, yeah? The dogs have been driving me mental.”
Although it’s covered, you feel him smile. You feel it in the way his body relaxes under your touch and his arms tighten around your waist.
“Let’s go home.” He agrees.
The others are absolutely gobsmacked when they see you walk out with Ghost. He’s the same as he always is; guarded and on defense but there’s a softness in his eyes when he glances at you talking to Price. They have half a mind to ask about you but one sharp glance from Ghost keeps their mouth shut. Whoever you are, you’re the single most important person in the world to him and they’d be complete fools to even breath in your direction.
2. When Simon was home
Let’s just say that Simon was in a compromising position when Price called him to meet at the base in an hour.
Usually you’re the one in the restraints that are always on your bed butttttt you managed to convince him to switch places. Tonight he’s bound by the leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles. His eyes are squeezed shut and his head is buried into the pillow behind him. You’ve been teasing and edging this poor man for close to an hour. Kitten licks and light squeezes are all you’ve given him as you worship his strong body. Each scar on his body has been caressed, licked, and kissed by you. Every inch of him has been loved and adored by you…
expect for his cock.
You’ve been purposely ignoring it until you finally take him into your mouth. His release is fast approaching as you bob your head up and down. He’s moaning and whimpering. Then his work phone rings. The stupid phone he only uses when he’s working goes off and he’s never been so angry in his entire life. You pull off of him and he lets out the loudest groan known to man. You giggle at him as you fish it from the night stand and press it to his ear as you place yourself in his lap.
“Price the fucking king could be dead and that still wouldn’t be a good enough reason to call me right now.”
3. And the one time that Price almost killed Simon.
Ever since Price called you to base, he’s been keeping in touch with you. He’ll text you and call you every now and then to make sure you’re okay. Obviously you are; Simon is your…partner and you can handle yourself but he still likes to check in on you. He feels responsible for Simon as he’s his captain but also for you since you’re his whole world.
Moving on… the first deployment that Simon went on was rough. You were anxious as you usually were but this time was worse. He was hurt. He had been shot and even though he’d healed just fine, you couldn’t help but worry about him. On the other hand, Simon’s nightmares had made a comeback and he’d been waking up in cold sweats. One time you swore you saw Ghost rather than your adoring man. You’d told Price about it and made he swear to not say a damn word to Simon. He agreed but kept a watchful eye on his Lieutenant.
On the second night of their deployment, Price had gotten a rather short and strange text from you that read “keep him safe please.” It felt like a given that he did but something about this felt wrong. He called you and it took until the last ring for you to pick up. You were sobbing, hyperventilating, and wheezing into the phone when you answered. He couldn’t get a single coherent word out of you for the first 10 minutes but when he did, he saw red.
Apparently Simon had lost his mind and decided that it would be better if you weren’t together. You’d told Price that he told you some bullshit lie about how he wasn’t feeling it anymore and you should go find someone better. The captain was more pissed off that his Lieutenant had lied and immediately found him the moment you’d stopped crying.
“Riley!” Price shouts across from the landing strip. That sends alarm bells off in Simon’s head. It was Ghost or Lieutenant, never his name.
Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”
Simon can’t argue with him. He knows that what he did was wrong and Price is well within his right to act on his threat. Hell Simon was about to do it himself if it meant he could rewind time and take back what he said.
However he is still Lieutenant Ghost in this moment. He narrows his dark eyes at Price and slowly takes his hand off of his vest. Nothing but lethal silence fills the space between the two men. Bystanders are growing increasingly desperate for action, practically yipping like starving hyenas for a scrap.
“You have 30 seconds to get out of my sight.”
Price steps away and Simon disappears into the darkness. The hyenas howl in hunger around them, chattering about the unfairness of it all.
Simon calls you the moment he’s locked away in his room. He spends the next hour apologizing profusely to you and damn near begging you to wait for him. It’ll be a few weeks until he’s back but please…just wait for him.
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mirohlayo · 5 months
Text
THE ONLY ONE | LN4
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( lando and you are on a break because of an argument. but he needs you back. )
warning : angst, fluff, some jealousy, happy ending ofc
word count : 5.1k
note : the longest thing i have ever written with 5k words 😭 pretty proud of it, hope it's not too long lol
!! english not my first language !!
lando sighs as he watches for around the 30th time your instagram story. it was a picture of your outfit of the day, but the little detail - or big detail for him - was the unknown man standing next to you and his clothes matching with yours. lando can't help but rewatch again and again your story throughout all the day. of course, he loves your outfit. he thinks everything suits you, either an elegant dress or just a big hoodie. it was not the problem. but why the fuck your outfit matched with the one of an other man than him ? he just don't understand. usually, he would be and was the only one to match with your outfit. it was kind of your love language, and lando loves it. every time you asked him to wear the same clothes as you, he never refused the offer and even lend you one of his hoodie. it is something very special for him, so when he saw you doing this with an other man than him, he really didn't like it. actually, he hated it.
and the worse ? he is once again looking at your story, laying in your shared bed in his monaco apartment, clinging to your pillow. oh poor him. there is still the scent of you and your shampoo filled in the pillow you used to sleep on when you passed the nights with your loved one. he's holding onto it anytime he's missing you, which is basically every minutes. he smells your fragrance, finding so much comfort in it. and he would also imagines you next to him, cuddling his body and playing with his hair. but these are just memories now. it seems long time ago for him, when the last time you saw each other was actually around 3 weeks now. but it was not a good last time. completely the opposite. and he curses himself when he remembers what happened that day.
"fuck, who is this... thing ? guy ?" he says, throwing his phone over the blankets. for real, who was this man next to you ? have you already forget him and moved on ? but no, you guys are still together. theoretically. yes, the last time you talked to each other was during an argument, but when you left him all alone in his apartment, you didn't say you broke up with him. you just left, furious and mostly hurt. you were on a break. you didn't talk together since the argument, didn't send any text messages that you both would always send every hours because of how much you missed each other. 3 weeks without any contacts. but the thing you don't know is lando still looking at your social medias accounts everyday, missing you dearly. sometimes he hesitates, if he should like or not your stories.
every days, every hours, every minutes, every seconds are hurtful without you. he's still playing again and again in his head the last smile he captured of you. he is missing you so fucking bad. and the only person he can blame is himself. yes, he is the one to blame at. he was the one who started the argument and the one to say the most rude and hurtful words. and he feels so much guilty about it. he can't stand the fact he was the one who hurt and upset the most precious person to his eyes. everything is his fault. and now he thinks he's just a fool who don't deserve you. it pains so much his heart, and he's getting sick of it. he needs you again. he needs to see you again. he needs to kiss and hug you again.
he let a scream out, overthinking about the situation. he grabs his phone and opens the text app. he clicks on your name, and starts typing something. but what ? hello ? hi ? can we talk together ? no. he just can't send you some stupid messages and thinks everything will be perfect again like 3 weeks ago. what was he thinking ? he sighs longly and decides to take a shower to stop thinking about you. but he damn knows that's impossible because every single thing reminds him of you.
like taking showers. you would often showered with him because he loves showering together. washing your hair and hugging you to warm your freezing body meanwhile the cold water was turning hot. and then after you doing his haircare routine, styling his damp curls while he was just looking at you with adoration. or when you guys would spend your evenings together, cuddling close under a woolen plaid on the couch, watching a movie until one of you two would fall asleep. or when you cooked some recipes and it ended up in a food battle. god he's craving of those moments again. he really needs to do something...
-
race day. it is sunday today and of course lando have to race. he don't know it, but you are in the paddock club. yes, even if you're on a break in your relationship, you couldn't miss a race and decided to attend it. those last 3 weeks, you didn't miss a single one races. you didn't attend them, because you were still hurt by lando's words and you didn't want his fans to see you present there, so you just watched the races and your papaya driver on the tv. but you missed so much seeing him in reality, so you attend today's race. of course, you are wearing glasses and a cap to not be recognizable. and you're also sitting in a hidden corner.
lando has no clue that you are here, watching his car moving around. and you have no clue that he is thinking about you and the way he's going to apologize to you. so as the race passes, you keep an eye on his car. your heart and your being feels weird. the amount of love you have for him is still here, and it never shaded away for the past 3 weeks. not a single bit. but of course you are still upset and hurt. the words he said to you broke you into tears. you love him so much, never you loved someone like that. so when he told you those mean things, you felt weak. and very very sad.
in a blink, the race is already finished. fans wave at the drivers who are celebrating the podium with their race team. you smile, admiring the place. you would be lying if you said you didn't missed races. you were always happy to attend one. maybe for the race, or maybe just to spend more time with lando. by the way, he didn't finish on the podium but still get p4. and despite the fact you are still gloomy, you are proud of him, like usually. because he's just the best after all.
now you have to leave the track. of course, you would have love to stay and join your favorite driver, but he don't know you are here and you don't want him to see you. because nobody has already apologize. and it's been 3 weeks since you haven't seen and spoken to him. it would be awkwardly embarrassing. so you have to take precautions and be prudent to not be seen by any mclaren team member. you go down the balcony's stairs, lowering your head and hiding your face with the cap. of course it has to be an orange cap, because it is the only hat you have. an other way to be even more discreet, huh. but it works well. you are now in the paddock area, just in front of the mclaren one. you recognize a lot of engineers and people who work with your boyfriend and you hope deep inside you they don't see and recognize you. but it seems like you failed it.
"y/n ?" oh. oh... it's not just anyone. it's not just a random maclaren team member. no. it is him. it's his voice. his voice that you missed hearing. it's lando norris. you stop, and don't know what to do. and don't know how to react. so you stay like this, turning your back on him. "y/n ? is it you ?" you close your eyes and exhale, you're not really in the mood to talk to him. the only person you shouldn't meet is now facing you. you turn around and keep your head low, you don't have the force to look at him.
you just remove your glasses and put them in your pocket. "why are you here ?" he asks confused, but you can tell he's concerned about it. "to... support you, i guess ?". you finally give up and cross his gaze. and it aches your heart. he looks tired, i mean of course he just finished a 2 hours race but still he looks even tired than usually. his face is pale, doesn't have much color. and his eyes are so tiny, so many emotions in them. "oh ok. huhh thank you...". he answers awkwardly. you bite your lower lip, the atmosphere is, well, very awkward yes. "so, how are you?" you ask to get rid of this tension.
how he is ? fuck this question. he doesn't even want to answer. does he really need to say that he blames himself every day, that he can't sleep because of how much he cries thinking about you, that he skips dinners because of how bad he's feeling ? he never felt like that with any person. it is the first time his whole being aches that much. but he can't tell you that, he knows you will not forgive him that easily. "good. and you ?" he says, avoiding your gaze. "good too" you hum sotfly. he knows damn well that's a lie, because even your tone betrayed you. he tries to take a look at you. his heart squeezes in pain, the view in front of him is heartbreaking. you look as tired as him. and as pale as him too. where is the smile he loves so much gone ? the shining sparkles in your pretty eyes ?
he fights the urge to pull you in his arms. but he's the one at fault, he can only blame himself. "hum, i'll go now" "no." he answers back to back and you look at him confused and surprised. "i-i mean you're going back to monaco ?" he stutters. "no, i'll join a friend of mine" you says coldly. "oh... ok..." god he sounds so sad, it pains you. you struggles to not hug him. because yes, you're hurt, but you still love him like crazy. "well... oh and good job today" you quickly say and starts to leave, not wanting to stay more here. you don't turn back, but lando is now smiling softly, watching you fade away in the crowd. "thank you, love" he whisper to himself.
he sighs, blinking slowly. now memories are coming back, and he remembers what happened that night, when everything went wrong in only one second.
- -
you were very tired. a hard day of work. so when you came home, in your lover's apartment in monaco, all you wanted was to follow him around like a puppy and cuddle him. you were so clingy and so needy. it was rare, very very rare for you to be like that, all clingy and needy, so when that night you doubled it, it was kind of surprising and shocking. usually, lando loves when you get clingy, when you want him all for yourself. because it not happens often, so of course he cherishes these moments. but that night, it was different. he didn't like the way you acted with him. you kept following him around the apartment, touching him gently and innocently. like grabbing his hand, placing soft kisses on his cheeks, back hugs. you just wanted his attention. you just wanted your lover. but he didn't seems he felt the same about you. first, he didn't care much. he just didn't returned back your affection. but the more you were getting clingy, the more he was getting angry. he started to hate it.
you tried to kiss him on the lips and instead of kissing you back roughly, he turned his head and your lips pressed against his cheek. you paused for a second, confused. you frowned and tried to understand why he did that. why your lover didn't return back your hugs ? your kisses ? why he acted like you didn't even exist ? you placed your hand on his forearm but he shifted. your heart squeezed, why was he like this ? usually, he was the neediest one and the one getting even clingier. you were lost.
"baby, why you don't kiss me back ?" you asked softly. lando sighed and he seemed annoyed. he didn't even dare to reply. which hurt you. you moved and stopped before him. "something is wrong ? something bothers you ?" you tried to understand why he was in this mood, you wanted to help him talk about whatever bothered his thoughts. but you didn't expect to hear that. "yes, you." he hissed. your face deformed. did you hear well ? "w-what ?" you stuttered. "you. it's you. you fucking annoy me". you blinked and took some few steps back. your being hurt, your heart was broken. "what do you mean ?"
"you're so clingy and needy and i fucking hate it. stop being like that and stop touching me. you're so annoying" he threw these words at you, giving you a death look as his furrowed his brows. oh pain was real. you felt weak, you thought it was all a dream. but no, your lover was here, saying harsh words to you and kept hurting your poor little heart. and while you tried to understand his behavior - because he would never talk bad to you like that - a bulb lighted in your head.
it was qualifying. you remembered lando's week went bad and hard for him. bad practices, no luck, his slow car, his poor performance... nothing went right. and you knew how much f1 had an important impact on him and his mental health. he was so hard on himself and sometimes he would overthink about why he sucks at racing. this explains why he was acting like a shit with you. you knew it was that. he didn't want to do a bad race tomorrow. so instead of calm down and talk about it with you, he let out all his anger on you. it was like he took you as a punching ball and kept punching you, until you broke in pieces. you understand how he felt, racing is his job, he has to be the best. but let out his anger on your poor person even though you did nothing wrong, you couldn't take that. yes, he had the right to be angry and annoyed and whatever, but being harsh towards you won't make his performance better. so you tried to talk with him. or maybe argue with him.
"lando, please. i know you don't mean what you say." he stared at you and then walk closer to you. his gaze get through yours, and a storm appeared in it. "yes, i mean it y/n. you're getting on my nerves and i don't like that. maybe i don't like you too". wow. it was harsh. it was like getting stabbed again and again. he don't like you ? he really meant it ? now you were about to cry. tears filled your eyes, and you breathed harder to not let them run. and of course lando noticed it. "what, really ? are you going to cry ? you're the one who started it all and you think you can cry ? gosh you're so pathetic y/n". you shook your head and looked away because you knew soon your tears will drop. was he saying bullshit now ? "oh, you're really crying" he made fun of you and your statement. but you couldn't stand here and just cry. you had to speak up, to explain how you felt and explain that letting out his anger on you was not the solution. "please lando stop. i know it's because of racing that you're acting like that. you can be upset and annoyed but it can't justify the fact you burst your emotions on me. i did nothing wrong, i just want to help yo-" "it's not about racing !!!!" he yelled at you.
you almost jumped because of how much he scared you. he never yelled at you. never ever. he was so different from the lando you knew. lando was the perfect, caring, kindness boyfriend. who was so in love with you. not someone who yell and hurt you. "you can't even see it's you the problem. i don't need your shitty cuddles and hugs and everything. i never wanted you and i don't even need you. you sucks". "lando pleas-" "i wish i had never met you". and then he passed you to crawl on the couch, turning on the tv. he looked like he didn't even care about you anymore. your heart cried as your being hurt. the best thing that have ever came into your life just said he wish he had never met you. how hurtful it is. and you thought it was the race who made him angry like that, but it seemed like it's not the reason anymore. just him speaking maybe the truth and what he thinks about you. and you wished you were dreaming. but no, it was not.
you never had an argument with him. or when something was wrong, you would always talk about it. but it was so different. the person you loved the most broke you. pain, yeah, pain filled your body. it ached badly. you just wanted to leave. run far far away. so he couldn't hurt you anymore. "i'm leaving. i can't stay with you anymore so i'll go" "then go. get out of my apartment. i would be better off without you". it was one sentence too many. your tears ran down your cheeks, your face. you couldn't stop them. so you just leave, shutting the door behind you, as the one who broke you started to realize little by little what happened. and it was when guilt started to kick him.
-
"so fucking dumb you are" max says again, cursing at his friend's behavior towards you. "i know. don't remind me. i'm such an idiot" lando says again, cursing at himself. he is laying on his bed, re-watching your new instagram stories while max is sitting on the other side of the bed. "and for the fucking 40th time please stop looking at her stories. you've been doing this since this morning." max states, and try to grab his friend's phone who dodge it effortlessly. f1 driver reflexes yes. "then you stop sitting on this side of the bed. y/n's perfume will disappear because of you and your stinky scent". max rolls his eyes and finally stand up. "you're miserable".
lando sighs, and throws his phone over the blankets. "max help me... i'm so fucking lost without her." "but it's your own fault. you're the one to blame at". he shrugs and shake his head. "i know it's my fault max. don't you know i'm literally dying every single day because of how much i miss her ? that i'm crying because i will never find someone like her ? i'm in a shitty situation and i don't feel well because she's not with me. look, i'm in a pitiful state even though we did not even broken. what will i be like if we break up for real ? i don't even want to imagine it because i already know it will be awful." he passes his hand in his hair, ruffling them. "i've never felt like that about any exes, anyone. it's the first time i suffer like this, i don't know what to do...". max looks at his friend and his gaze softens. he hates seeing his best friend suffer, he can't stand it. "lando i can help you. and i will help you. but you have to promise me that you-" "SHE TEXTED ME !!!" lando suddenly screams.
"what ??" max jumps on the bed and sit next to him. "MAX !! SHE SENT ME A MESSAGE" lando is going crazy, he is just shocked. he don't even realizes what happens, he thinks he's dreaming. his heart is beating faster now. but max sighs as he reads the text you just sent, a simple "i'm coming to pick up some things in the evening". it is more a negative message because it means you're not staying in your boyfriend's apartment, but still lando is relieved by this one text. "lando, she's not staying. she's coming to pick up things because she don't want to live with you" "but it's her first text since 3 weeks ago ! she thinks about me too!"
max shakes his head and closes his eyes because he's getting a headache. "mate you don't get it" he says. but his friend don't listen, he is too focused on his phone. because he knows he's going to see her girlfriend soon, and he knows it will be the moment to apologize, to show her how much he cares about her. "max, help me. give me advices please. i'm listening". and then the two would spend the whole afternoon together, the streamer giving advices to the driver. lando is prepared, he don't want to loose his chance.
and then someone knocks on the door. he knows it is you because it's now around 6pm. max left 30 minutes ago. so it means you two will be alone together. lando almost tumbles because he ran towards the door at the speed of his mclaren livery. he takes a breath and opens the door.
oh.
your pretty face. the first thing he saw. his heart squeezes at the sight of you. your eyes, scanning his face and his body while he does the same for you. he can't believes you're standing in from of him, even though he saw you last week on sunday. but he's feeling worried now. you look super tired. dark circles under your tired eyes, your cheekbones more visible. you are as terrible as him. nobody dare to talk, and you start to feel awkward. "can i enter or maybe i just stay here until tomorrow ?" you say. "o-oh yes, come..." he shifts and you walk inside the apartment. and a weird feeling seizes you. every rooms of the apartment holds a memory from you and your boyfriend. the kitchen where he would cooks your breakfast, the living room where you would play karaokes. you feel nostalgic. and remember these memories makes you want to stay, to forgive lando, to be back together like before. but you put yourself together and fight this urge. you came for your things, not for him. or maybe it was also your intention. "how are you ?" he asks cautiously. "good. what about you ?" you reply. "good too". no, lies. from both of you.
you make your way to the bedroom. the first thing you see is your pillow above lando's one, as is he was sleeping on it. and the fact is that he was truly sleeping on it, your scent lulled him every nights. you put your suitcase on the bed and open it, you don't want to waste time. but there is a problem. and it's a big one. you have to sleep with lando tonight. not maybe in the same bed, but still you have to pass the night in his, well your shared apartment. those past 3 weeks, you were hosting at one of your friend's house. when lando asked you to moved in with him, you sold your old apartment. that's why you had nowhere to go, and lando was so worried about it but you weren't aware of it of course.
but your friend's parents were passing through and decided to pay a visit to your friend's house. you didn't want to intrude, so instead of worrying your friend you said you will buy an hotel room. what a coincidence you are now in your boyfriend apartment, sweating because you are scared to ask him to stay. so waiting for the fateful moment, you keep packing up things. you can also feel lando staring at you and his intense look burns your cheeks. "do you need anything ? you want something to eat ?" he asks sudenly, and you can hear he's caring about you by his tone. "no i'm okay, thank you" you simply answer.
your heart start pounding faster, and you sweat even more. god why were you so shy and scared ? he is your boyfriend after all, why would he refuse ? you play nervously with your necklace, the one lando gave you for your first date. you never took it off since now. "are you... okay ?" your boyfriend gives you a concerned look, he noticed you stopped packing your clothes. you take a deep breath and move to face him. "hum... can i..." your words don't want to leave your mouth. "can i stay here ? does it bothers you if i sleep here tonight ? if so then it's okay i will fin-" "no stay please." he rushes back. you look at him surprised. "i-i mean it doesn't bother me at all. you can sleep here". you give him a small smile and a little thank you. he smiles back, but unlike you it is a big, happy smile. the exact smile you love seeing from him. "huh, you can sleep on the bed, i'll go with the couch". he adds and you just nod.
lando just keep staring at you. of course, it disturbs you because sometimes you are putting useless things in your suitcase. he takes advantage of it to admire you. your body's silhouette he loved hugging, your shiny and soft hair he loved styling, your presence and its hold on him. you truly are precious to him. he knows he can't live without you in his life, it's just impossible. he needs you. not tomorrow, not in the next few hours. no. he needs you now. right now. he just can't stand the fact you're right here and can't kiss him or push him on the bed to cuddle him. he approaches you, and gently grabs your hand. surprisingly, you don't remove it and he melts down in the touch. "y/n... please listen to me". you sigh longly and turn your face to cross his eyes. you are also tired of it. even if he hurts you so bad, you can't stay far away from him because you need him as he needs you. "i'm listening". he strokes the back of your hand and takes your chin in his fingers to lift up your head, forcing you to look at him.
"i'm so fucking sorry y/n. so so sorry. you have no idea how much i blame myself and i feel so guilty every day. i'm the worst boyfriend ever, i don't even deserve you. every single minutes i keep thinking about what i said that day and if i could i would go back in time. because i regret so much those hurtful and cruel words i said to you. and you have to believe me, i didn't meant not a single word. i can't stand the fact that i'm the one who hurt you when i said i would punch the person who would did it". you try to reply back but he's so into it now. "please let me finish. i love you. i'm so madly and deeply in love with you. if you ever ask me to bring down the stars and the moon for you i'll do it. i would do anything for you. i love you. i have never loved someone like that. even with my exes, i never felt like that before, i never wanted someone so bad than you. you're the only one for me. nobody can replace you y/n. you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and i'll never let anything and anyone taking you from me. i need you in my life and i want you in my life because i can't imagine it without you. when i said i would be better without you, i so fucking lay. it's completely the opposite, i'm nothing without you. i would do anything for you to forgive me. because you're the only one, and you'll always be the only one."
tears are now running down his cheeks. and yours too. gosh he just let everything out, he has never been so desperate over someone. you can't stand it anymore and hug him tightly. he melts down in your hug and squeezes you. oh he missed you so much. he hides his wet face in the crook of your neck and keeps crying like a baby. you rub his back slowly and place a soft kiss on his hair. "i love you too lando. i'm so in love with you and i also need you." you simply say, because you know he already knows you're infatuated with him. and you guys stayed like that for fifteen minutes, lando keeping his arms around you. he don't want to let you go. he's so afraid of it now. "let's go cuddle in the bed. or maybe you still hate it" you tease him gently. "no. please. cuddle me. be clingy and needy, i'm only asking for it. don't go away from me." you two crumble into the bed and put the blankets over your bodies. lando curls up against you, his grip tight on you that you can barely breathe. he hides once again his head in the crook of your neck and one of his hand slips under your shirt, stroking your back. you start playing with his curls, something he loves and craves very much.
"i love you so much my baby" he suddenly says. you smile and peck his side profile. "me too lan". he lift up his head and your looks cross. he can't help it and a silly smile takes place on his lips. and he leans in, kissing you softly, your warm lips against his. he missed kissing you, so he really struggles to pull back. "besides i was such a liar. i'm the most needy and clingy one." you laugh hard and kiss him once again. he returns back the kiss and traces his way to your neck, planting soft kisses on it. "no for real, i would literally die without your cuddles. and just without you actually". you giggle and, you spend the rest of the night together. showering together again, cooking together again, playing karaokes together again. and of course, he didn't slept on the couch. but in your warm embrace which he's sure he'll never leave.
2K notes · View notes
irndad · 9 months
Note
Hi hun! I just love love love your pieces <3
As for Carmy prompts - could we have some hurt to comfort when Carmen doesn't show up for a date? It's ok if you dont wanna do it or i requested incorrectly, but if you do, i cant wait to read!!!!! Thank you so much mwah mwah mwah
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I’m not thaaaaaat sure how I feel about this and it’s so long but your request was so sweet I had to!!! Ily <3333
wc:1.1k
There’s so fucking much in his ear. Fak’s screaming whatever bullshit he’s sure will help absolutely nothing, Richie’s harassing Sydney and Tina’s trying to keep them all in line and will of that goddamn chaos, he shouldn’t be able to make out anything.
Prepping this whole thing, the opening, Richie biting his head off for fucking sending him to the best kitchen in the city- it’s all a bit fucking much.
He barely hears the door open (she has a key, because of course she does) and he doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he calls out her name.
“Hey, baby,” he yells back towards the entrance. It feels good, chopping the vegetables. It’s actually one of her favorite dishes that he’s making, and something inside him preens that he gets to feed her tonight. Everything feels illustrious under her gaze. He remembers the first time he’d cooked for her, how her watchful gaze felt a bit like sunlight; equal parts burning and doused in light.
She’d said she liked his hands, then. Said he looked pretty with a knife and a cutting board. “Will you try this sauce for me?”
He hears her heels click, the soft thud of her purse landing on the couch. It’s a slow saunter she does to him, but he’s razor focused- what does it need, garlic? Oregano?
It only breaks when he sees her. And she looks gorgeous. Wearing a black dress with a cowl neck, shimmery eyeshadow that catches and dances in the low light of the kitchen, a crimson lipstick neatly applied to her beautiful pout.
She smells like vanilla, and Carmen has the privilege of knowing what real, rich, Madagascar vanilla smells like. He’d loved the scent so much that he’d bought her a perfume made from it, and there’s a warmth blooming in his chest when he realizes that she’s wearing it.
Wordlessly, she opens her mouth and leans forward to try the sauce covered wooden spoon he’d raised to her lips.
Even when she’s in front of him, he can’t believe she’s someone he knows. That she’s wasting her time with someone like him.
“Jesus Christ you look beautiful,” he says without thinking, and he kisses her quick. It’s true. She’s a vision, plucked out of an old movie shot on grainy film, warm to the touch film.
He abandons the spoon and the sauce without much fanfare, a rough, calloused hand meeting her soft warm cheek.
“Thanks, Carmen.” she says, but her doe-eyes deny the joy she typically exudes in his presence. It’s his proudest achievement, how she glows around him. She’s tight lipped, smile betraying her words.
“What’s wrong? Is it the sauce? I know it’s a mess in here, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d see it-“
“No! No, seriously, it’s okay, honey.” She tries to insist but it really doesn’t work. He moves the pot off the burner and twists himself completely to face her, placing a gentle hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He tries not to let it sting, how she stiffens for a moment before softening again.
“What happened?” He asks again.
“It’s the first,” she says, a rueful grin on her pretty lips, before gesturing down at her outfit, and oh.
The dinner. The fucking dinner that he’d promised her. His sweet girl, who waited up every night, who dutifully tasted every recipe, who soothed him on nights where nightmares stole his sleep-
“Fuck,” he says, more to himself than her, but god, he can’t stop looking at her, “Fuck! God, I’m such an asshole, I’m so sorry-“ he insists, suddenly so grateful that she’s letting him touch her, even more aware of every point of contact with the sudden fear that it could escape in a moment’s notice.
“Y’know, Carm, if you could’ve just told me that would’ve been one thing? But I left the reservation, and this was the one night we both had off!”
“I know, baby, fuck, I forgot-“
She backs away from him, and there’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Sitting on the chair he keeps by the stove (he put it there for her, because she loved watching him) she pinches the bridge of her nose.
“It’s just not fair, Carm. To either of us. If you don’t have time for this-“
“I have time for this! I have time. Don’t say things like that.”
“Carmy, I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that’s the last thing I want.”
And it is. It’s the last thing she wants, and Carmen fucking knows it. Knows that three months in he’s supposed to have brought her flowers and taken her out and done more than cook for her and spend hours in his shitty apartment, and lately she’s been asking if he has time for being in a relationship.
And maybe he doesn’t, but fuck it if he doesn’t feel like he can breathe around her. This was the point of the dinner- take her out, be a boyfriend. Have her wait a little while on him. Show her he’s worth it.
Instead he fucking missed it, stayed home and made sauce no one would even eat.
“I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing her hand and lacing it through his own. It always shocks him, how it fits his own. “Okay? I’m so, so fuckin’ sorry. Tell me what I can do. Tell me, cos I’ll do just about fuckin’ anything to get you to stop saying shit like that.”
Her voice comes out small.
“I was alone, Carm. They kept trying to take my order and you weren’t there, and eventually I had to leave.“
She looks up at him, eyes sparkling and kind and Carmen. She looks beautiful, and if he wasn’t with her, he’d see her in the street and hate whatever fuck was lucky enough to be who she got dressed up for.
“I am so, so sorry. It’s just with the stove, and Fak, and Richie fucking calling me to bitch me out every thirty seconds,” she reaches her delicate fingers to brush his cheek with concern, “I should’ve remembered. It’s just about the only thing this week worth remembering. And you look…stunning, I should’ve been there. I should’ve. Please.”
Her expression softens and he loves the sight of her, warm and kind and lovely in both form and temperance. She’s so patient with him, responds with kindness- a gift.
She brushes her soft lips on his cheek and he tries to savor the sensation, note how warm and wonderful it is to have her form pressed against his, how her arms knot themselves around his waist.
“I know you’re stressed, babe,” she murmurs against his cheek, eyes shut, “tell you what. Why don’t you make me something better than what that place could’ve, huh?”
After he kisses her for so long that excess is no longer the right terminology, he makes her the best pasta she’s ever had in her goddamn life.
It’s better this way, anyway. She’s gorgeous in a way that’s just his to look at tonight.
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