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#then needed his age for something and googled it and now look at me
so-long-soldier28 · 2 months
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what is it with teenage supernatural shows and the lack of continuity? like, how old are these people?? what year is it?? tf??
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confessedlyfannish · 8 months
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DP x DC Prompt #6
Phantom is sitting at the Batcomputer, kicking his legs back and forth. With the seat last set for Batman's height, his feet barely skim the ground. He's propped his head up with one hand, examining something he is holding between his thumb and forefinger in the other.
He is very casual for someone who has never been told the location of the Batcave.
"Phantom," Batman grunts. Phantom doesn't glance his way, likely having heard the Batmobile pulling in.
"Hi Bruce," he says. "I had a nightmare last night."
It's important to note that The Justice League does not know Phantom's true age, although there are several theories:
Theory One: he is a ghost dating back to several thousand BCE. The proof of this is sparse but present, through written record of beings with white hair and green eyes and uncanny likenesses found in artifacts proven to be authentic. Could these truly be Phantom? Yes. However, there is
Theory Two: he is a teenager, as his visual presence suggests. This could be true even if his existence is thousands of years old, as his mentality might not have advanced beyond that of a child aged fourteen to sixteen when they died. This is supported by his general behavior and advanced knowledge of memes. The few times he and Red Robin have interacted, Bruce did not understand a word of it without extensive googling. But worse, of course, there is
Theory Three: Phantom is the age of his first recorded appearance in modern times, only a few years ago. Phantom's recorded appearances in the past were sparse compared to his consistent existence in this century, which could hint at a timestream accident similar to Bruce's own, if they are real. And ultimately, this would not be the first time a two year old presented as a teenager in form.
Two out of three options propose Phantom is a child, and so Batman's tone is gentle when he says,
"Did you?"
"Yeah," Phantom says, words almost a sigh. Whatever is in his hand catches in the lamp light, shining green.
It's kryptonite. Phantom is holding a shard of kryptonite.
"Sorry." Phantom twirls his chair around to face Bruce. He holds the shard out in his palm. "I called you Bruce, didn't I? I know you hadn't told me yet."
"That's okay," Bruce says. He takes the shard calmly, his suit's layered biometrics disguising the fact his heart is racing. He recognizes this chunk from his stores, kept in the secure, deepest, impenetrable section of the cave coded to his DNA alone.
He's been aware Phantom's powers include invisibility and intangibility, but the ghost has been benevolent, honorable, and heroic since introduced and he had allowed his guard to slip. All it would've taken is being tailed one time, and now he must rely on that benevolence.
"And I'm sorry about that," Phantom says, nodding at the belt Batman has tucked the kryptonite inside. It will do nothing to stop Phantom should he decide to pluck it away again, but kept out of sight in a lead-lined pouch still feels safer than out in the open.
"I needed to make a point." Phantom says. The words are threatening but his tone is not.
"Oh?" Bruce asks, wary nonetheless.
"I'm really strong," Phantom says. "I can walk through walls. I can disappear. I can fly. I can blast and freeze stuff. I don't need to breathe. Traditional weapons don't really work on me."
"I can duplicate," a voice says from behind Bruce. He whirls around, batarang in hand, to see another Phantom rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "That duplicate will have all the same powers," the doppelganger says, apologetically. He floats back over to the Phantom sitting on the chair and the two merge.
"I have bad powers too, ones I don't like to use. I can scream at things until they fall apart, even buildings. I can...I can possess people, and make them do things," he admits, unable to look Batman in the eye. "It's not that all ghosts are like this, pretty much all of them aren't, it's just that I'm one of the stronger ones, and I'm only going to get stronger, and the stronger I get, the more powers I might get, and the less weapons even made especially to fight ghosts will work on me."
None of this is phrased as a threat, but rather a confession.
"Why are you telling me this?" Batman asks.
"I had a nightmare," Phantom repeats weakly. He reaches under the computer table and pulls out a purple JanSport backpack, cotton dirty and frayed with use. He unzips the front pocket and pulls out a small plastic baggy. He offers the baggy to Batman, his hand shaking.
Batman takes the baggy, examining the contents. Inside are six tiny little dots. They look like poppy seeds, but held up to the light are a deep purple in color.
"Phantom, what are these?"
"Hemo Prunus," Danny says, eyes stuck on the baggy. He's paler than usual. "Colloquially: blood blossoms. At the time they were grown it was believed they required drops of blood to grow, but a friend of mine who likes plants thinks it's more likely they actually just like a higher quantity of iron in their soil. You know, truths found in witch's tales and stuff like that. I don't know much about their care beyond that but I do know they were grown previously in Salem in the late 1600s, early 1700s during their summer seasons with some amount of success so perhaps you can mimic that environment and go from there. From what I've gathered they're incredibly difficult to grow, but I figure if anyone can do it it's you."
"I'm not exactly the gardening type," Batman says dryly.
Phantom laughs faintly. He looks like he's about to pass out, which should be impossible and is not the correct reaction to gifting someone a rare piece of flora.
"Phantom," Batman says again, slowly. "What are these?"
"They're my kryptonite."
Bruce closes his fist over the bag immediately, taking several steps back to put distance between himself and Phantom. "Are you alright?" he asks sharply.
"I'm fine," Phantom says, waving a hand. "As seeds they just sting a little, like nettles."
That's not the reaction of someone being lightly stung, Bruce thinks. Phantom looks like he needs the chair he's sitting in just to stay upright.
Then the rest of his words click together.
"You're giving me these," Bruce says.
"Yes," Phantom says. "For safekeeping."
"To grow."
Phantom's smile fades. "For safekeeping," he says, looking at Bruce's belt. Where he has stored the kryptonite.
The enormity of what Phantom is entrusting him with hits Bruce like a ton of bricks, and he finally realizes that Phantom is not sick but terrified. He is quietly, deeply, terrified. Bruce also realizes that a reaction like that is not born out of fear of the unknown but is the reaction of someone who has felt the sting of the bee and felt their throat close up. At some point Phantom has felt the blood blossom flower, and the sheer memory of it is enough to make the ghost go almost catatonic with terror.
And he has still handed over the one weapon that can hurt him to the Batman, and told him all he knows on how to make more.
I had a nightmare.
"Is this all of it?" Bruce asks, the question coming out brusquer than intended. Phantom blinks.
"Yes, I'm sorry, that's all I could--yes that's all," he stammers.
Bruce shakes his head. "I mean, does anyone else have access to it? Is anyone else growing this that we should be aware of?"
Phantom can't mask a sudden shudder, his reactions always woefully transparent (pun not intended). "No, that's the last of it. No. No. I don't think," his eyes grow wider, "I don't think so," he whispers, to himself, an attempt at comfort.
Way to go, Bruce, a familiar voice whispers, you just scared the kid harder. Bruce drops the packet on a table beside him and strides forward to put a firm hand on Phantom's shoulder.
"I'll make sure of it," he says. He'll pull Kal in and together they'll make sure, the same way they raided every GiW base across the United States four months prior. Phantom looks up at him the same way he did then, with complete and utter trust.
"Thank you," he says quietly. "But if you do...if you do find any more, promise me you won't destroy it. Promise me you'll keep it, the same way you keep the kryptonite. Please, Bruce."
He's not just asking him to keep it. Another weight finds its place, settling on the Bat's shoulders like the cape he wears. Another contingency for a hero he fears will one day be a dear friend.
"I promise, Phantom."
"Danny," Phantom says, "My name is Danny. A name for a name, right?"
"Danny," Bruce says, heart growing ever heavier. "I promise."
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bratzforchris · 2 months
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Ways to Say "I Love You", C. Sturniolo
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Summary: Five times you knew Chris better than himself, and the one time you didn't<3
Pairing: Chris x feminine reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking/hangover (y'all i know he's techinally not of legal drinking age in the USA. this is fiction)
Word Count: 4.3k
A/N: I genuinely need this man in my life so bad actually. Anyways, enjoy some tooth rotting fluff. XOXO<3
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1
“Bruh,” Chris groaned, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. “I feel like shit and I don’t even know why.”
You looked up from your phone, eyeing your boyfriend up and down. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” he whined, rolling off the couch dramatically. “My head hurts and I’m tired.”
You sat up from the gray couch, standing over Chris, who was sprawled on the floor, pouting and whining. You definitely felt bad for him, but at the same time, you knew Chris tended to over dramatize the smallest, most random things. “Do you have a fever?” 
Chris shook his head, rolling from his back to his stomach, but not getting off the floor. “I don’t feel sick, but I just feel like horse shit and I don’t know why.”
You observed him for a moment, before an idea dawned on you. Having ADHD, Chris tended to forget to eat and drink, so hyperfixated on something or too many thoughts in his head blocking the reminders to fuel his body. He was medicated for it, which both helped and hurt. Sometimes, he would be able to focus enough to remember his meals, but other times, the meds would dissipate his hunger cues. “When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?”
“Hmmm,” Chris’s blue eyes looked thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged. “Dunno. Which is weird because I’ve usually had like, six Pepsis by now, but we’re out and Matt didn’t go to the grocery store yesterday, so…I don’t know.”
You shook your head with a soft chuckle, helping your boyfriend up off the floor. “I think that might be the problem, sweetheart. Is there something you want to eat?”
“Do we have chicken nuggets?” Chris asked you, picking up one of the stim toys he had left on the floor last night as he followed you into the kitchen. “That reminds me, isn’t it weird that chickens can’t fly? Like…are they even real birds?” he asked you. 
“I dunno, hun. Google it.” You told him gently, pulling the bag of chicken nuggets out of the freezer.” 
“Do you think chickens are sad that they can’t fly? Like do they look at cardinals and go ‘Damn, why can he fly but not me’?” he hummed, flicking at the toy. 
Chris was wrapped up in his own little world as you made his lunch. He didn’t even get the chance to Google his chicken question before he was distracted by a Spotify notification, which led to him loudly singing a Lil Skies song, dancing around the kitchen. As much as you hated how difficult ADHD could be for him, Chris had one of the best personalities you had ever met; he was bubbly and outgoing, always the life of the party and always willing to cheer you up. You quickly plated his nuggets, along with some other random foods that you knew he would love, before sliding the plate across the island too. 
“See if that makes you feel better.” You explained with a soft smile. 
You watched as Chris downed the food, along with a Gatorade you had given him, only to see a smile dawn on his face. 
“I feel better now,” Chris mumbled shyly after a while. “Thank you. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. You literally always know me better than myself, it’s kinda weird.”
“Why is it weird?” You asked with a snort. 
“Cause it’s like you’re magical or something. Which it would be really cool if you were.”
You smiled, kissing Chris’s soft brown hair. “I love you too, hun.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
2
Tour life was difficult. No one would deny that. As much as the triplets were absolutely loving the Versus tour and all the antics they were getting to do, as well as meeting fans, they had to admit that it was exhausting. Not only were they running on an extremely tight schedule, it was wearing on Chris the most, simply because he was getting next to no alone time with you. It wasn’t that he simply wanted the alone time for sexual reasons, rather, you were the only person that could calm his mind, letting him just be. 
“Baby,” You hummed, softly stroking the brunette’s face. It was still dark out, just past six am, but you had a surprise for him, and you knew Chris would later complain about his sleeping in if he found the missed opportunity. “Wake up, honey.”
Chris wriggled beneath the blankets, sleepily blinking his blue eyes. He was freezing and it was dark out; way too early to be awake. “Too early.” he groaned in his morning voice, rolling over to face the wall with the blanket bunched around his shoulders. 
“I have a surprise for you.” You said, a bit more excitement in your voice as you shook him harder. 
The word ‘surprise’ immediately woke the boy up as he rolled to face you. You were already dressed in one of his hoodies and a pair of leggings, eager to get on with your plan. You were practically bouncing up and down like an excited little kid, hoping Chris would love what you had come up with as much as you did. 
“Why the fuck are you awake? It’s dark out,” he moaned. “Come cuddle me instead.”
You snorted at your boyfriend’s dramatics, quietly pulling back his blanket so as not to disturb Matt and Nick. “Get dressed, you big goof. We’re leaving in ten.”
As much as he wanted to argue and go back to sleep, Chris couldn’t deny that he wanted to understand what had caused the giddiness in your aura. He quickly pulled on his favorite hoodie and sweatpants, cramming his messy hair under a snapback as he followed you down the bus steps and out onto the quiet, dark sidewalk. He didn't know where the bus had stopped during the night. Philly maybe? But he didn’t get time to think about that as you simply nodded to one of the members of the triplets security and then took his hand, dragging him down the sidewalk. 
“Where are we going? I miss my blanket.” Chris pouted. 
“Me too,” You nodded, trying your hardest not to disclose the surprise. “But I do have something that’ll make you feel better.”
Chris didn’t know where you were going at this point, but he followed you anyway. He would’ve followed in any life, had someone asked him the question. You two continued to walk for a few more blocks until you stopped in front of a brightly lit diner, its neon signs illuminating the darkness of the street. 
“Pancakes?” Your boyfriend asked, perking up as the smell of bacon drifted from the restaurant. “Goddamn, I knew I made the right choice dating you.”
“I am pretty amazing,” You giggled, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Let’s eat.”
You stepped into the diner together, immediately being sat at a booth and having your order taken. You and Chris both ordered an immense amount of breakfast food, quite tired of the protein shakes and cereal that came with bus life. 
“How did you, um, find this place?” Chris asked bashfully, stirring his straw around his Pepsi. 
You shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee. “I was just looking for things for us to do alone and it came up,” You hummed. “I love Matt and Nick, I really do, but I also like to have one-on-one time with you, and I could kind of tell you needed some, too.”
“How do you always manage to know exactly what I need when I need it?” he asked with a chuckle, brushing his hand over your knuckles. 
You smiled, a blush dotting your cheeks as your waitress came over with a tray full of all the food you had ordered. “I just do.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
3
“Baby,” Chris whined, sprawling out across your shared queen sized bed. “Don’t leave me. I don’t need food, nor do I want it.”
“But you do.” You said pointedly, looking him up and down as you slipped on your Uggs. 
“Nuh uh,” he fought back, smashing his face against a pillow. “You’re making me feel sick by not laying with me.”
“I’m not making you feel sick. Your choices are making you feel sick. No one told you to drink as much as you did.” You chastised gently, crossing the room to kiss his forehead. 
You and Chris, as well as his brothers, had gone out last night with a large group of friends, to include Johnnie and Jake, Tara, Larray, and Sam and Colby. Things had gotten a little…out of hand, leaving you with a very hungover Chris, who was making miserable noises as he clutched his stomach. 
“You’re not even laying with me,” Your boyfriend pouted. “My head and tummy hurt and I wanna be cuddled and you’re being mean.”
“You’re so grumpy when you’re hungover,” You snorted, kissing his forehead again. “I’ll be right back, babe.”
Chris whimpered again as you propped him up with several pillows, tucking him in and making sure he had water and a bucket nearby. You had opted to get him IHOP, figuring a good amount of carbs would ease the symptoms he was currently experiencing as a consequence of overindulging in alcohol. The time between you leaving the triplets house, picking up food, and returning home was less than forty five minutes total, but it felt like an eternity to your hungover boyfriend who simply wanted cuddles and for his headache and nausea to go away. 
You entered the bedroom, takeout bag in hand. “I’m back. Nothing to cure a hangover like a big, greasy breakfast,” You smiled, settling onto the bed and pulling out plastic containers of food. “Once you eat, you can take some ibuprofen for your headache.”
“I’m not hungry.” Chris whispered softly, feeling too unsettled to eat. 
“You know your tummy will feel better once you eat.” You cooed, stroking his stomach over the comforter. 
“Nuh uh.” he groaned, snuggling further into his pillow and blanket.  
“It will and you know it. You know you can’t drink that much, hun. I dunno what you expected to happen.” You explained softly, pushing some hair out of his face gently. 
As much as he wanted to continue to whine and be difficult, Chris had to admit you were right. A good breakfast and some sleep sounded really, really good right about now. He softly sat up, taking a sip of the Gatorade you had left on his bedside table last night. “Mkay…I’ll try to eat, I guess.”
You didn’t say much as you two began to eat your breakfast. You knew Chris probably had a raging hangover headache right about now, and you didn’t want to make it any worse. Once your boyfriend had had enough to eat and taken the pain relievers, he curled up into your side, placing your hand on his stomach. 
“...you were right,” he admitted quietly, always hating to be wrong. “Now I need belly rubs and sleep.” 
“So demanding,” You fake huffed, kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, hun. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
4
Chris Sturniolo was not the type to let anyone know he was upset. Sure, he would jokingly whine and complain about things when he felt like being irritating to his brothers, but he would never actually let anyone see when his feelings were hurt. You knew this about him, and after a little over a year together, you knew the signs that he was feeling this way as well.
The four of you were currently sitting in Matt’s car in a random parking lot, filming a car video. You opted to sit in the back and mostly listen with an amused look. After all, this was the triplets video, not yours. They hadn’t really planned a topic for today either, which ever bubbly Chris took to his advantage. 
“I need to pee,” he stated to no one in particular. “I got a new water bottle and so now I’ve been motivated to stay hydrated so I need to pee.”
“Why did you say water bottle like that?” Matt snorted. 
The boys continued back and forth with their bickering for a while, mostly making fun of the way Chris had said the word. You simply sat and laughed, enjoying all the weird conversations that came up, that is until Nick harshly interrupted Chris. 
“Do you ever shut up?” he asked. “Like genuinely, do you ever shut your mouth?”
“I do sometimes.” Chris protested. 
“Nuh uh,” Matt interjected. “You couldn’t go five minutes without talking. I bet on it. You’re one of those people on the list Nick was talking about. The one who could benefit from being quiet.”
“Fine. Time starts now.” Chris ‘locked’ his lips and pretended to throw away the key. 
You knew he was just going along with the video, but you could tell by the slump of your boyfriend’s shoulders and the way he had his forehead resting against the cool window that the comments had hurt him more than he let on. Nick and Matt continued to talk for a few minutes, before landing on a topic that immediately sparked Chris’s mind. He quickly decided to speak up, forgetting about their ‘challenge’. 
“You can’t do it,” Matt laughed, a triumphant look on his face. “Chris can’t stop yapping…wait, that should be the title of this video.”
Nick laughed and fist bumped his middle triplet, but you found the joke far from funny. Chris had slowly curled into himself throughout the duration of the video, speaking less and less. He was still appearing to be smiling and having a good time, but his overall demeanor had shifted, and you could tell his brothers’ teasing was getting to him. 
“We should get home. It’s getting late…” You mumbled softly once the car had quieted down. 
Chris turned around in his seat, giving you a thankful smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Matt nodded at your statement, turning the key in the ignition and beginning the short drive back to your shared LA home. Everyone was quiet, which was a rare occurrence in this car. You would’ve thought that Matt and Nick would’ve noticed Chris’s unusual silence, but somehow they didn’t. Your boyfriend lingered to get out as his brothers clomped inside the house, laughing about a random joke. 
“You okay, hun?” You asked, climbing from the backseat to the driver’s seat, resting your hand on his arm. 
“‘M fine.” Chris mumbled, leaning his head  against the window. 
“You don’t act very fine.” You whispered gently, running your fingers through the soft, brown curls at the nape of his neck. 
“Do you think I talk too much?” Chris whispered quietly, turning towards you. 
Under the bright light of the garage, you could see unshed tears welling in his lash line, threatening to spill. That’s how you knew Chris was upset. He almost never cried, unless he was really and truly upset. 
“Honey,” You said sadly, running your thumb across his cheek. “Of course not, bubba. I love listening to you talk.”
“Well Matt and Nick sure don’t.” he huffed grumpily, but a sniffle made its way out.
“Yeah…I was going to talk to them about that, actually. They were kinda being dickheads to you tonight.” You whispered, always hating conflict between the triplets. 
“They were right,” Chris groaned, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t shut my fucking mouth and everyone thinks it’s annoying!”
“Sweetheart,” You cooed, pulling him into a hug across the console. “I don’t, and I say that with every promise in me. I love listening to you talk, Chris. Your voice is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard and I learn so much from you every day.”
“Really?” he sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek.
“Really, hun,” You smiled, softly brushing it away. “I love you.”
Chris smiled, giving you a soft peck on the lips. “You always just know, don’t you? You always know when I’m sick or tired or when something’s wrong. God, I love you.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
5
You had always loved music, ever since you were little. Something about how a simple arrangement of notes could make a person feel so many emotions captivated you. It was like a language that you didn't have to learn to understand. By the time you were eleven, you’d been playing guitar and ukulele, and that later expanded to piano and bass. Music was absolutely your therapy, and you took every opportunity you had to practice your craft. 
You were sitting on the floor of your and Chris’s shared bedroom, strumming softly on your acoustic guitar. For once, the house was quiet because the boys were out filming a video, so you took the time to practice one of the new songs you had been working on lately. Being a music major allowed you very little time for your separate projects, so you would take whatever chance you could get. 
The silence didn’t last long, though. Just as you were playing an Em chord, Chris burst into the room, flopping on the bed. “Hey mamas, how was your day?”
You playfully rolled your eyes, but continued to strum your guitar. “It was wonderful…until I was so rudely interrupted.”
“You know you love me,” Chris teased, rolling onto his stomach and propping his chin in his hands. “Play me a song.”
“God, you are so demanding,” You chuckled. “What’s next? An autograph?”
“Mhm. On my boobs.” Your boyfriend smiled.
You shook your head with a laugh, throwing a guitar pick at him. “You’re insane.”
You didn’t waste any more in Chris’s antics, though. You fulfilled your boyfriend’s request, quietly beginning to play Falling like the Stars and singing along. Chris said nothing more, cherishing the sound of your voice. He loved hearing you sing and play guitar. It soothed him, allowing him to see the passionate parts of you that only came out in your music. He wished that he could do the things that you did, but he had just never taken the time to learn an instrument. 
You looked up at your boyfriend on the bed after you finished the song, smiling softly. You watched Chris for a moment, observing his body language and the way he was looking at you. “Do you…want to learn?” You asked him quietly, a blush dotting your cheeks.
“You’d teach me?” Chris’s cheeks and ears grew pink as he looked at you shyly. 
“I’d love to.” You nodded with a smile. 
Your boyfriend clambered off the bed, sitting down next to you on the rug. You softly began to explain the different parts of an acoustic guitar and how to hold it, before moving onto chords and strumming. Chris had always been a fast learner when he put effort in, and right now was no different. Within the hour, he was already playing slow, soft songs. The chords were still vibrating and it took him quite a while to change them, but it was a song nonetheless. 
“I’m not as good at it as you are.” he pouted after a moment, setting your guitar aside gently. 
“Well I have been playing for ten years, bub.” You chuckled gently, kissing his face. 
Chris wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him and kissing you back deeply. He loved you with all his heart, and you taking the time out of your day to share your passions with him only made him love you more. As the kiss grew heavier, Chris fell back onto the floor, still holding you as he giggled. 
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play guitar, you know that?” he asked, pecking your forehead. 
“I could tell.” You smiled. 
“You always can.”
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 
+1
“It’s such a nice day out today.” You hummed, soaking in the sun as you laid on your towel. 
Chris fidgeted beside you anxiously, but made an acknowledgement towards you statement so as to ‘throw you off his scent’. He had been planning this surprise for months now and he was currently using every muscle in his body to keep his mouth shut so as not to spoil it.
You two were basking in the sun on the beach in Santa Barbara, towels laid out. You had noticed Chris had been unusually quiet all day, but didn’t really think much of it. The beach usually kept him in his own little world, too distracted by the roar of the ocean and the sand between his feet to notice anyone else. You both had always loved the beach, and moving to the LA area after living in Boston your whole life had been a welcomed change. You practically went to the beach every weekend, but today Chris had led you to a new spot he had found. It was rather secluded, but you loved it all the same. It made things more intimate between the two of you. 
“You’re quiet today,” You said after a while, rolling over and propping yourself up on your shoulder. You looked Chris over from head-to-toe, admiring the tiny features about him like the way his curls had grown more pronounced with the salt air and the birthmark on his back. “Beach getting you relaxed?”
“I, uh, yeah. You could say that,” Your boyfriend tried to smile sheepishly, looking you over. Your lavender bikini hugged you just right, making him even more nervous. If he fucked this up while you looked so gorgeous, he would never forgive himself. “Wanna take a walk?”
You smiled, sitting up quickly and beginning to gather your towel. “Sure!”
“No!” Chris said a bit too hastily. “I mean, you don’t need to bring your towel…I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“You can’t just leave your stuff on the beach, Chris.” You giggled. 
“It’s not like anyone’s gonna steal it. Just–trust me, please?” he asked, giving you those blue puppy eyes you could never resist. 
“I guess so,” you fake huffed, taking his hand in your own. “C’mon, let’s walk before the sun sets on us, silly.”
Chris smiled, taking your hand in his own and starting the trek down the beach. The ocean was calling him as you two strolled westward towards the sunset, but that would have to wait. At least until he had finished his plan. The silence between you was comfortable like always, but this time it thrummed with passionate energy. Chris was pretty sure you had no idea what he was  planning, but then again, you knew him like the back of your hand.
“This beach is so quiet. It’s nice when it’s just us,” You smiled. “How did you find this place?”
“Oh, y’know, doing what I do best. Poking around.” Your boyfriend laughed nervously as you came to a beautiful expanse of rock along the beach. 
You immediately ran towards the beauty, smiling up at the wonder of nature. “This is gorgeous.”
Chris took the opportunity of you having your back turned to feel in the pocket of his swim trunks for the tiny box that he had been hiding from you for over a month now. He would admit that he had definitely had a bit of a struggle keeping the secret from you, but it was worth it to see you now, on this gorgeous beach, looking even more beautiful than the view around you. The brunette turned his head to where Nick was hiding out of sight, holding his camera. As much as he wanted the two of you to be alone for this, he wanted the pictures infinitely more. He couldn’t wait to tell his kids about what would be the best day of his life one day, that is, if you said yes. 
He took a deep breath, pulling the box out of his pocket and then tapping you on the shoulder. “I have a question for you, ma.”
By the time you had turned around, Chris was on one knew, holding a tiny, velvet box that held a gorgeous, heart-shaped, diamond ring. “Oh my god…” You whispered, hand flying to your mouth as tears welled in your eyes.
“You are my best friend, baby. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you that day in ninth grade algebra class. Finding out you felt the same way about me was probably the best day of my life. You always listen to every crazy, stupid, and dumb idea I have and I love you for it. You know me better than I know myself. I love loving you; you are my first, last, and only love. Will you marry me, Y/N?”
“Oh my god, yes!” You squealed, throwing yourself into his arms as Chris slid the ring onto your finger.
Chris sniffled as he spun you around, hugging you tightly and kissing you. “This is why I’ve been acting weird today,” he chuckled and blushed. “I was worried you’d find out. You know literally everything.”
“Not everything,” You smiled, showing him the diamond. “You kept the secret so well. Who all knows?”
“Well,” Chris admitted shyly as Nick stepped out from his hiding spot. “Nick knows, obviously, because I needed his help capturing the moment. Matt knows too. Other than that, no one else.”
“You’re amazing, Chris,” You whispered, kissing him again. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I was fifteen years old, you know that?”
“I love you so much, ma. Always have and always will.” 
As Nick continued to snap photos of the two of you in front of the sunset on the beach, you couldn’t help but to feel your heart swell. You hadn’t known what was going on with Chris this time, but for once, you didn’t even mind. 
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tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence
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togenabi · 8 months
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things I won't tell you
vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader
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♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.
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word count♡— 7.3k (cries)
genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au
content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!
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You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.
The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.
Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.
On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.
As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.
The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.
But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.
“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”
“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”
And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.
“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”
Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.
Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.
The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.
You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.
It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.
The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.
Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.
Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.
But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.
There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.
When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.
His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.
“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.
“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”
When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.
Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?
But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”
Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.
“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”
“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”
He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.
“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”
You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.
At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.
“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”
The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?
Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?
You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.
“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.
Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.
There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.
Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.
On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.
Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.
Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”
He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”
Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.
“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 
It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.
He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.
It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.
You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.
“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 
It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.
As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.
Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?
He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”
“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.
“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”
“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.
Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.
You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.
“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.
“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.
Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.
“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.
“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.
But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”
“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”
“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”
Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”
He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.
“Same time tomorrow?”
Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?
But your sister does. 
Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.
You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”
The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.
“Ow!” You yelp.
“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”
You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”
“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”
“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?
Chrysanth kicks you again.
“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”
“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”
Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.
“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”
She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.
Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”
Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?
The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.
Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”
“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.
“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.
Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 
He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.
“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.
There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”
“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”
You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.
As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.
After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.
He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”
“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.
“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.
“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.
Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.
“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”
“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”
“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.
“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 
“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”
“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.
Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”
“...”
He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.
But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.
“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 
Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”
He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.
“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”
The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.
“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 
It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.
“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”
The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.
“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”
When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 
“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.
“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—
“You have a date.” Darn it all.
August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.
“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.
Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”
“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”
“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”
A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”
“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.
“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”
“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.
But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.
“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.
“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 
It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.
“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 
Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.
The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.
You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.
As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.
The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.
“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.
Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”
“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.
“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.
“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”
Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.
“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 
What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.
“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.
Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 
“Not nearly as lovely as you.”
The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.
Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 
All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.
Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.
“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”
You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.
She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.
You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.
You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.
She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.
“So, how are you and that chef doing?”
Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—
“August?” You blurt out.
Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji���s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—
“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”
“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.
She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”
“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”
“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”
Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:
All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.
“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”
Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”
Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?
“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”
“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 
“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”
“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 
“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?
“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.
“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.
“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”
‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’
You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”
“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”
You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.
“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”
“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”
“...”
“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”
“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”
“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”
When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”
That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”
He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.
Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.
“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”
Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 
“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.
“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.
Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 
Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.
There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.
“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”
You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.
“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.
“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”
“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.
“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.
“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”
The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 
Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.
You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.
It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 
You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 
Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.
‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.
The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.
After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.
Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.
You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.
You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.
“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”
“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 
August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.
“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.
It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 
But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.
“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.
You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.
August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 
Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”
You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.
“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.
The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.
“I would be honored.”
Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.
He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.
By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.
You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.
Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 
Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.
“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.
“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.
“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.
Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.
When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”
There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.
And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.
His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 
“I know, love.” He says.
“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”
Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”
“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”
His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 
“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.
It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.
“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 
“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 
Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.
“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”
You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.
“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”
With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.
You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 
You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.
“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”
Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”
You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.
That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.
Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.
Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.
Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.
That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.
It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.
Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.
Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 
But he won’t tell you that.
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© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡
tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost
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author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀
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ellastone-olsen · 5 months
Note
Would it be possible if you could do a g!p wandanat x female reader with sex pollen?? Its okay if you cant, just an idea if you have nothing else to write🫣🤭
Blue glow - WandaNat
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DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY
Summary: Curiosity and alien flowers work wonders.
Pairing: G!PWandaNat × fem!R
Warnings:NSWF,SMUT SMUT SMUT, handjob, blowjob, breeding kink, threesome, cockwarming, dirty talk, after care
DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES
Word count: 1.7k
AN: hi anon! I’m glad to see my first request thank you! honestly, until that moment I didn’t know what sex pollen is and I had to turn to google lmao
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"What is that?." You asked looking at the strange plant in the pot. "Have you decided to take up gardening? Tony, I thought you weren't old enough to act like my grandma." You stop laughing when the man looks at you sternly, apparently not appreciating the jokes about his age. “This, by the way, is a plant unknown to science (at least on Earth), which I personally grew from seeds strictly for research and not what you just said.” “Okay let’s say it’s like this, let me take a closer does it smell like something?” You also kept a couple of cacti in your room at the Avengers headquarters, which recently bloomed by the way. As soon as you stood up and approached to the pot, a man blocked your way. “Are you crazy, what did I just say? Don’t touch this thing, I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not.” You looked at him sternly and muttered under your breath so that he could also hear, “You said not to touch, not to smell.” The attempt failed.
late Friday evening. Everyone went to their rooms or left the headquarters altogether. There was silence everywhere, only the sounds of Wanda’s steps were heard somewhere in the corridor. The woman had almost reached her destination when she saw some kind of blue glow in the darkness, “What the fuck...”. She came closer and examined some kind of plant that vaguely resembled a flycatcher, but with more spherical “traps.” Then she suddenly remembered...
“Y/N, Natasha, come here let’s hurry up. Y/N, you told me about something in Tony’s office. Check it out, Natasha take a look too.” Apparently the witch was very impressed by the flower, because she excitedly pulled both of you by the hands towards the light source. And where did she get this passion for flora…
“Wanda, we were already getting ready to go to bed, what did you see there?” Nat suddenly fell silent, looking at the strange light. “Did you seriously drag me out of bed for this succulent or what is this?!” She clearly did not share the witch's interest. “Oh, you’re right, this is the flower I told you about. Tony takes such good care of it, and apparently it’s...bloomed? Let’s take a closer and look, it’s cool,” Nat rolled her eyes but followed you two. You raised your face to the flower, wanting to look at it, when suddenly... the ball of the bud opened releasing pollen into the air, apparently from which the light came.
There is absolutely everything around in this stuff, you can hear Natasha’s exclamations: “Don’t breathe in this, it can be poisonous. Damn it, I told you not to come here.” The three of you cough, covering your faces, and go out into the corridor, shaking yourself and each other from the remaining dust. “Now you make me need to take a shower again.” The woman grumbles something else while Wanda calms her down, you also want to answer, but suddenly this feeling comes.
If there was a mirror in front of you right now, you could appreciate how quickly your pupils are dilating, as if you were a drug addict on a high (technically you were), beads of sweat are rolling off your forehead and this pulsation between your legs is as if you were given a dose of an aphrodisiac multiplied by five times. Oh no this is definitely not normal, you need to tell Wanda and Natasha what is happening apparently because of this cute glowing flower. While you were in your thoughts you didn't notice how the swearing died down and both women also noticed the changes.
When you turned your head, you saw two women looking at you with hunger and tents in their pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of the obvious bulge on both of your girlfriends and you impatiently walked over to Wanda, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Oh God, I don't know what it is, but I need you both so bad." Natasha came up from behind, pressing her rock-hard dick to your ass, her arms wrapped around your waist and the redhead’s whisper was heard in your ear. "Oh don't worry baby you'll get what you want.Damn I'm going to die if I don't fill your pretty pussy at least twice. What do you think Wanda?"
You feel the soft material of the sheets as they throw you on the bed, watching as they take off their clothes and look at you as if you were their prey. Your own panties are already hopelessly ruined, lub flows down your thighs at the sight of your girlfriends.
You quickly take of your clothes after which Nat takes you in her arms, pressing a kiss on your lips, you feel her cock poking into your stomach and dripping with pre-cum. Wanda, meanwhile stands behind stroking her length at this spectacle. "Mmm..Nat please." You rock your hips to rub against her cock, but you are suddenly pulled to your feet and forced to your knees.
"No no, first you're going to take every inch of my dick into your mouth, baby." The tip of her cock pressed against your lips and you obediently open your mouth and shake your head along entire length. Wanda can’t just watch anymore and comes up to you, takes your hand and places it on her pulsating length. "Come on baby, jerk off Wanda you can't leave either of us needy. Damn Wanda her mouth feels so good around me. That's such a good cocksucker." You move your hand and rub your thumb over Wanda's sensitive red tip as she begins to rock into your hand. Tears well up in your eyes when Natasha grabs your hair and shuts your mouth. Wanda helps you jerk her off and grins, “What is it baby girl? Is Nat’s dick too big for you? You’re so beautiful, now I want to cum all over your face.”
Natasha began to shamelessly fuck your mouth, running after her orgasm, the head of her dick hitting the back wall of your throat every time. "That's itmbaby, I'm going to cum in your beautiful fucking mouth and you'll swallow every drop. Wanda, are you close? Cum with me." Your hand was thrown away so that Wanda could jerk herself off, cumming all over your face, ropes of Natasha's cum hit your throat and you breathed through your nose as you swallowed every drop as you were told.
You took a deep breath as the redhead pulled out of your mouth and wiped Wanda's release off your face. When you were lifted from the floor, a small puddle of your arousal remained on it, your legs did not obey and your knees were red. You were already dripping and the pitiful whining and pleas left your mouth without hindrance. “Please it hurts so much, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
"What do you think Wanda, I think she deserves to have you fill her pussy." The witch got off with a simple nod as her two strong hands forced you onto all fours on the bed, allowing her to position herself behind you so she could start pounding into you without warning. "God Nat, her pussy was made for my cock, so greedy and tight. You need to see how well she takes me." Nat, meanwhile, spat on her hand for extra lub and stroked her red sensitive tip, appreciating how good the two of you looked. The long-awaited feeling of filling and Wanda’s quick thrusts drove you crazy, you put your hand under you, stimulating your swollen clit. "Yes yes thank you thank you so good fuck I'm gonna cum can I cum?" You know that with the tip of Wanda’s cock deliciously hitting that nice spot inside you, you wouldn’t last long, and having received approval, a minute later the orgasm hit you with incredible force. "Oh yes Y/N you squeeze my cock so well. Oh my God, cum for me like that, cum all over my length." The witch praised you.
You were turned over again and your back touched the cool sheets. Wanda pounding into you hearing a cute whine from your mouth, "Too sensitive. It's too much." "Oh baby girl you can take it. I need to filled this tight pussy so badly. You want my cum inside don't you? Do you love this cock?" "Yes yes I love so fucking much!". Natasha continued to jerk herself off when a cute little idea popped into her head that she only bothered to tell the witch about. The women looked at each other and Wanda nodded in approval of the plan.
The witch's thrusts became faster and she exploded, releasing her load inside you. “Oh yeah baby fuck take all my cum!” The feeling of fullness and how good it was, was the only thing you could think about. Wanda, meanwhile, pulled out of you, giving way to the redhead. Natasha turned you around, taking you by the hips and jerking off her cock, she stuck only the tip inside you, filling you even more. "Oh fuck fuck I'm so full fuck Natasha!" “That’s it my little greedy girl, I know you love it when I fill you up .” The only sounds in the room were heavy sighs and Nat's little whining as she pulled out and looked at the beautiful picture in front of her.
You were lying on your shared bed, Wanda took napkins from the nightstand and carefully wiped all the liquids from your thighs, kissing you and telling you how good you are and how much she loves you. When the witch finished, Natasha threw a robe over your naked body, picked you up, kissing your cheeks and carried you to the bathroom so they could both take care of you the way you truly deserve.
Sitting in a hot bubble bath, you asked, “How do we tell Tony about the pollen effect of his science experiment?”
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allywthsr · 10 months
Text
FINDING LANDO ON RAYA | (l.norris)
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summary: you are bored in your hotel room and find Lando Norris on Raya, what will happen if he texts you?
wordcount: 5.7k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v
notes: seeing that video, did things to me, my first smut so please be gentle!! Comment your thoughts please also please pretend that you don’t need to be a celebrity to see others
You were in Amsterdam for a work trip, discussing business with possible new clients. The client that was scheduled on your last day, canceled the meeting the night before, because of some emergency that came up, so you being bored in your hotel room during the early afternoon, you checked Raya. You downloaded the app with your friends back in London to see who comes up and check out celebrities that had a profile there. You weren’t big on dating apps, you had Tinder but only to make fun of the jerks that were registered.
Nothing serious ever came out of the dates you had, Raya was your new hope. Maybe going on dates with celebrities would be better, maybe they wouldn’t be such idiots, in the end, you could always talk to tabloids and tell them what an asshole he was. They knew that risk and they wouldn’t just send dickpics out of the blue.
Going through the profiles you found some Instagram celebrities, but non caught your eye, you could clearly see the fuckboy in them.
You almost wanted to close the app, but saw a brown-haired boy named Lando Norris. You followed Formula One and watched as many races as you could, always keeping a close eye on the younger drivers, who just looked absolutely delicious. With Lando getting P2 in Silverstone and Hungary, you shifted your attention to him, stalking him on Instagram and finding him legs clenching sexy. You never would’ve thought you would find him on such an app. He could just scroll on his Instagram followers, chose a random person, and hit her up, she would open her legs in seconds, not that you were any different.
You clicked through his pictures, a black and white one of him looking like the dessert he is, one of him partying, and one of him with his friends and pulling a weird face. The three pictures showed his personality perfectly. Sexy, outgoing, and funny. You analyzed the profile further, looking at his profession which said, Formula One driver, age twenty four, wasn’t he twenty three? After a quick Google search, you checked that he was indeed twenty three years old. Lando Norris cheating his age, you saw what he was doing.
Visiting Amsterdam from London, just like you.
You didn’t hesitate for a second but clicked straight on the heart, hoping that maybe he liked you as well and before you could blink, a page popped up, and the words: ’You and Lando like each other!‘ flew across your screen.
You couldn’t believe it, he liked you as well. What? How?
What should you do now? Text him? Ignore it? You couldn’t ignore him. Meeting Lando was a one in a million chance. You wondered what he was like in real life, was he as funny as he appeared in all of the videos? You tapped on his chat and thought about what you wanted to say. Something sweet? Something funny? Something flirty? Or did you text him something about Formula One? You were about to exit the app and text your best friend, but then you saw a bubble appear, indicating that he was typing.
/////////////////// Meanwhile at Lando’s //////////////////////
He sat in his hotel room watching something random on Netflix when his phone made a sound, a sound that he specifically set for Raya. He removed his eyes from his MacBook and took his phone in his hand, he recognized your name from earlier. He looked for some fun on Raya, wanting a quick fuck to forget the busy weeks he had. So when he scrolled through the profiles and found yours, he was kind of drooling. You looked stunning in the pictures you put up, one of you in a park, sitting on a blanket and enjoying the sun, the next one was you, sitting on some random stairs in front of a house you found in Notting Hill and the last one was one of you sitting in front of a cake, made for your birthday. A big pink twenty two was piped on the white frosting while you smiled at the cake. You were surprised by the whole day your friends had prepared for you. Due to you moving to London for your job, you had no one at first, because of your job you got to know a lot of people and some stuck with you, surprising you for your birthday.
You looked super hot in all of your photos, choosing them with a laugh with your friends, saying how many creeps were going to slide in your dms.
So when Lando read: ’You and Y/N like each other!‘, he didn’t waste a second of not answering you. He thought you were perfect, from London and in his age range and not ugly. Lando clicked on the private chat and typed in his usual message, every time he used this, not one girl said no.
Hey there! You look absolutely gorgeous
What are you up to babygirl?
You almost let out a scream. He was a flirt, a big one. What should you do? Text your best friend and ask for help or just handle this like a pro and see what the outcome is. You decided to go for the second, if he wanted to meet up, then it was because of you and your texting and not because of your best friend that basically wrote the text for you. So you replied to him, if he was flirty, you would be too.
Hiya Handsome
Not much, chilling in my hotel room
What about you?
You wanted to keep the conversation going, so you obviously wanted to know what he was up to. If someone would have told you weeks ago, that you would be texting with Lando Norris on your Amsterdam business trip, you would have laughed at the person. You dreaded this trip, of course, it was fun traveling at the cost of the company but it was also lonely. Maybe texting Lando wasn’t that bad after all, he could be your company for the last day.
You didn’t have to wait too long for a reply from him, after seconds he had read the message and the bubble appeared again. He was not only fast at driving then.
The same
I‘m bored as hell
What are you doing tonight?
Oh god. What now? That was practically him asking you if you were free later. Of course, you were but that was not him asking for a date where he would kiss you on the cheek good night. That was him asking for a quickie and you knew it. But would you still meet him? Obviously! It’s not every day you get to meet one of your celebrity crushes.
Not much, had a client meeting but he canceled so now I‘m free
Thought about going out and seeing the city but am not sure, they said that rain is coming later
Why you asking?
You knew why he was asking, but you wanted to seem innocent. In your head you already started planning your outfit, you had a lot of serious outfits for work and barely anything nice to wear for a non formal meeting. But you were so happy you packed some lingerie, you had to because almost all of your normal non sexy underwear was in the laundry, which you forgot to put into the washing machine. Typical you.
It’s my lucky day then
The clouds are already really dark, seems like you can’t go out tonight :(
Wanna come to my hotel and maybe we could order some food? I‘m kinda craving some McDonald’s
You seem lovely
And it happened. What are you gonna do now? In the end, he was still a stranger, someone you did not know. He could be fully different from what you saw and knew of him on the internet. Oh god, what if he had some weird kinks and was going to pee on you or something? You just hoped he was normal in and out of bed. And McDonald's? Isn’t he an athlete that had to follow some strict diet? Did fastfood even fit in there? What were you going to answer to the ’you seem lovely‘? That was probably something he texted every girl, so you chose to ignore it for now.
That’s a bummer
You could be a serial killer and kill me before I get the chance of saying goodbye to my loved ones, but McDonald’s does sound nice
But does it fit into your strict diet, mister McLaren’s number one driver?
Were you actually going to meet him? You needed advice from your best friend. She knew what to do, you were sure, she always did. In the end, she was one of the humans that pressured you into downloading that app in the first place.
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The serial killer existence is not giving me the kick as it used to, so don’t worry, I‘m over it
I also don’t have any more space for the corpse in my basement
McDonald’s it is then
Someone did their googling, I see
It’s the break, I can do what I want
Also, my trainer will not know about this, and what he doesn’t know, he won’t get mad over
Are you still there?
Hello?
Babygirl
Where did you go
The serial killer text was only meant as a joke, I would never do something like that, it would ruin my career
You chuckled, did he really think you were scared by the obvious sarcastic text? Cute.
If you retired from the serial killer being, then fine
I watch you drive around in circles every weekend, don’t get your hopes up, I didn’t google you
And what if I already texted your trainer and told Jon about this? ;)
Are we impatient? Am I that special that you can’t go a minute without me? Atta boy
You let out a sigh, it’s official now. You were going to meet up with Lando Norris. Then you could see how he really was and compare him to all the fan fictions you‘ve read. You really needed to sort out some outfit.
You comin‘? That’s sweet
So I got myself a fangirl? Just don’t be a Max Verstappen lover, I want you to be on my side
And if you did text him, you will get punished later ;)
You are gorgeous, just wanted to make sure that I was the only one inviting you for dinner tonight
Oh god, hallelujah. Now you kinda wanted to text Jon and see what his punishment looks like. You could feel the heat and the pulsating between your legs already and you haven’t even talked with him face to face yet. You needed to get there soon.
Sure, I always take a free meal, sent me your address? :)
Nah, I actually like George Russell but he didn’t answer me on Instagram… :(
So you‘ll do it
Now I kind of want to text him and see what that means… maybe I’ll send him a picture of you biting into a burger later
And no, no competition for you
Ah btw, what’s the dress code? I didn’t pack much fancy clothing except for my work stuff. Are we thinking sweats? Or else I’m gonna turn up in a work dress
The George Russell comment was made up, you never texted him but wanted to play a little with Lando. You didn’t know how to put the dress question in a flirty comment, you weren’t even sure if he was actually trying to get you into his bed. Maybe he was just looking for someone to accompany him for eating McDonald’s.
It’s the Hilton in Amsterdam, there‘s only one
I‘ll send you someone to pick you up, don’t worry
And that’s sad, I can’t get George to come here so quickly, guess I’ll be your only company tonight
Do it and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow
Please come in your sweats!! That’s the most comfortable for eating McDonald’s and chilling, besides, I won’t look at them when they‘re laying on the floor, so put on whatever you feel comfortable in
Yep, that was not just an ’I‘m bored’ dinner. Alright. You could feel your panties getting slightly damped when you stood up and walked to your suitcase. Fishing out dark grey sweatpants and a white crop top. You needed to shower before you went there, get cleaned up, and shave. What color of lingerie would you put on? You had no idea, maybe you should ask him since he‘s also not subtle about dropping hints about where this night would lead.
That’s nice, thank you!! What time will he be here?
Alright alright, sweats it is then, what color are we thinking for lingerie? I have some red, blue, yellow, burgundy and white
You were bold here, that wasn’t normally your case of flirting but he was just as forward as you were, so why hold back? And you really needed help choosing the color. What if he didn’t like yellow?
He‘ll be at yours at 6:30 pm if traffic is alright
Baby, I won’t make it through dinner if I know what you‘re wearing underneath
You‘re making things very hard for me already and I haven’t even touched you yet
But I love the color blue, babygirl
Put on whatever you feel comfortable in
He was the sweetest even while flirting. And him sending you a driver? Was this the princess treating your father always talked about when you were younger? But you were sure he didn’t have in mind what was coming for you after dinner if you would eat dinner before the sports session Lando had planned.
I‘ll see what I can do then
See you later handsome ;)
You hoped into the shower, washing your skin twice with the summer like smelling shower gel. Peeling your skin to make it super soft as well as shaving every hair you saw. You knew that men shouldn’t care if you had hairs on your body or not, but you felt better if you did. You were also happy, that you washed your hair yesterday evening so you did not have to worry about it now.
It was very difficult, to not touch yourself. The pressure that build up down there was almost unbearable, but you wanted to wait for Lando, it was his job now to make you feel good, you just hoped 6:30 pm would come soon.
When you got out of the shower you dried your body and tapped the screen of your phone, it was 4:48 pm. Enough time to get your makeup done and stress yourself. So before you did anything else, you applied some body cream to make your skin super silky.
Now sitting down in front of the hotel window with your travel mirror in hand, you started on your makeup. You didn’t want to overdo it and ruin this night, but you also wanted to look like something. So you did a light makeup, only applying products that weren’t heavy on your skin and looked almost natural.
The next time you took your phone in your hands to check the time it was 5:29 pm. Only an hour. You could do that. You decided to text your best friend the new details.
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So you did just that, applying Parfum on your ankles, between your thighs, and even spritzed some behind your ear. You just hoped he would like your Parfum. Packing together some things you would possibly need for sleeping over. New underwear, makeup remover, your face cream, and your phone charger, you doubt he had two. You put on your sweats and the crop top over the blue lingerie, was that even the right thing? Meeting up with him just for a quickie? He won’t remember you by next week, did you really want to go through that? You would get attached to him and he is never going to text you.
The next time you tapped on your phone it was 6:24 pm, you spent the last twenty minutes wandering around in the hotel room trying to get rid of the butterflies you felt. It was exciting meeting up with someone when you knew you would have a good night, ending it with pleasure. So you gathered everything and made your way downstairs to the lobby, you waited there for a car to roll up to your hotel.
When a black Mercedes rolled up, you made your way outside and the driver got out of his car.
”Are you Miss Y/N Y/L/N? I am here to pick you up on Mister Norris‘ behalf.“
”That’s me, thank you.“
You got into the car and waited for him to start driving, he wasn’t very talkative which you were thankful for, the nerves were getting the best of you, and you weren’t sure if you would even be able to talk a normal sentence without stuttering.
When you arrived at the hotel, the driver turned to you.
”I wish you both a good evening. His room is number 1283, the left elevator and then you need to press button twelve for the twelfth floor.“
”Thank you so much for picking me up!“
With that, your door got opened and you looked at the person with a disturbed look, seeing that it was only a Portier you relaxed. You weren’t used to this luxury. Thanking the guy that opened your door, you got out and went into the hotel to the left elevator, pressing floor twelve. The doors closed and you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. This was really happening. Before you knew it, the doors opened and you stood on the twelfth floor, now you only needed to find room number 1283. You followed the signs that were everywhere on the walls and a minute later you stood in front of the door.
With a thumping heart, you knocked at the door waiting for Lando to open it.
He answered with a big smile and tousled hair, he was dressed in some black sweats and a black T-shirt, looking handsome as ever.
”Hey, come in.“
”Hi, thank you.“
You stepped in and Lando opened his arms for a hug. Hugging before fucking, alright. He loosened the hug and his eyes scanned your body.
”You look absolutely gorgeous, Baby. Even better than on your pictures.“
”Thank you, but you aren’t that bad either, you look very handsome, I like your hair like this.“
”Yeah?“
You nodded.
What now? The sexual tension was already unbearable, you wouldn’t survive dinner. You both were practically eye fucking the other.
”Let’s sit down first?“
”Sure!“
With that you went to the cream-colored couch, sitting on it and having the perfect view over Amsterdam.
”But if you are a serial killer, do tell me. At least I want to say goodbye to my family.“
You had no idea what you were saying, you wanted to lighten up the situation but what should you do?
”Nah don’t worry, not anymore. And you‘re here for work? I read you’re from London?“
”Yes, had some meetings with clients. I moved there for my work, I love it there. And what about you? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in some exotic place for holiday?“
”Kinda, I visited Tomorrowland yesterday to see my friend Martin Garrix and tomorrow I have tire testing for Pirelli, so no holiday for me just yet.“
”Ah that’s fun, what are you doing for the holiday?“
”I rented a yacht for my friends and family, you should come!“
”Oh, yeah“, you blushed, ”let’s see if I still want to see you after tonight, maybe you have a small dick.“ you smirked. You wanted to get to the point of why you were here. The wet panty proofing it to you, dinner could wait, the wetness between your legs not.
He looked at you with an open mouth.
”Me and a small dick? Baby, you have no idea what’s coming.“
With that, he put his hand on your thigh dangerously close to your core. You let out a shaky breath.
”The thing is, I joked about not making it until dinner, but I really don’t think I can resist you that long, knowing you’re probably wearing sexy lingerie under your sweats and crop top.“
You could see his eyes getting a shade darker than they were when you first saw him.
”Why don’t you find out for yourself?“, you wanted to sound sexy and just prayed to whatever lord, that it did.
And before you could think about it for another second, he took you and placed you in his lap, putting his hands on your waist. His lips looked absolutely delicious, you wanted to taste them, feel them on yours. As if Lando could hear your thoughts, he pressed his lips on yours, moving them, and slipped his tongue into your mouth searching for yours. You let out a quiet moan and nudged his tongue with yours. Your hands found their way into his hair, slightly pulling on the strands, hoping that that was something he was into.
Your lips creating the loudest sounds, every time they smacked together, taking deep breaths in between. Lando left your mouth and his kisses wandered slowly down your neck, leaving a trail of wetness behind (not only on your neck) and he slightly bit the skin of the side. Without you realizing it, you moved your hips against his, dryhumping him. Lando’s hands wandered under your crop top and slowly pulled the material up, to remove it, you held your arms up to make it easier for him. When the dark blue lace appeared, he let out a breath.
”Fuck babe, you’re killing me. Even better than I imagined.“
You could just hum because he immediately attached his lips to your chest, sucking on the skin that was now freed. That felt so fucking good. Your hands went back into his hair, attaching themselves to the brown curls.
”Le-Let me“, you pressed out, wanting to explore his neck as well. That was one thing you always found sexy, his thick neck, you wanted to touch and kiss it and now you finally could.
He let go of your chest and looked at you with big eyes, you pressed a kiss on his lips and did the same then he did minutes prior. Wandering down his neck and slightly sucking, you didn’t want to leave a hickey but some sucking never hurt anyone. Satisfied with what you did, you let go of his skin and licked over the said area, feeling him shivering under you. You could also feel something hard under you, and if you were correct you wouldn’t be disappointed. It felt the right way, thick and long enough but not too long.
With a quick heartbeat, you left his lap and slowly made your way in front of him, you wanted to see for yourself if you were correct. So you sank to your knees and looked up at him through your lashes, he groaned and his head fell backwards.
”Fuck babygirl, you make it so hard for me, I could just burst right now.“
”I make things hard for you? Oh Lando, trust me, I know.“
With that, your hand slipped across his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes focused on you again, he could almost see how hungry you looked at his dick as if it would be your last meal.
”I want this off.“
You tucked at his sweats, impatient to finally get to his member you haven’t met yet.
”Impatient are we?“, Lando acted all cocky now, but you both knew, that when you touched his dick with your delicate hands, he would turn into a puddle. With that, he lifted his hips and you were able to pull the sweats down, seeing him wearing no underwear.
”No underwear?“, you asked with crooked eyebrows.
”Figured I didn’t need them since you were going to remove them anyway.“
When his sweats was finally pulled lower to where his dick was, his member sprung towards you, he wasn’t fully hard yet but you could work with that. You gave his sweats the last pull and they were pooling at his feet, you immediately got to work. Not wasting a second of not touching him, you grabbed his member, which laid heavy in your head, and let a thread of saliva fall onto his head, moving your hand up and down, spread the fluid evenly, feeling him hardening with every stroke you gave him.
”You‘re killing me. That feels so fucking nice.“
The praise made you smile. At least he felt satisfied, that was already good.
”Put it in your mouth babygirl.“
So you did just that, you opened your mouth and gave it a long lick, from the bottom, to the tip. Your lips closed around his head, circling it with your tongue. Looking up, he had an open mouth and his eyes looked satisfied, you wanted to do more, slowly taking his member down your throat. Lando let out a moan and reached into your hair with his hand, making a messy ponytail to hold on to.
When you reached your limit, you grabbed the rest of his dick with your hands, following the movements you did with your mouth.
”Fuck baby, that’s enough, or else I‘m going to cum down your throat, I want to taste you first.“
With an unsatisfied hum, you let go of his dick and pouted.
”Let me take you to the bed.“
You nodded and he pulled you back onto his lap, standing up as if you weight nothing and walking with you into the bedroom. The bedroom was nicely decorated and from the window, you could see a beautiful sunset, but that wasn’t something you wanted to pay attention to. He sat you down on the soft bed and you shifted to the end of his bed, laying your head on his pillow. You inhaled the scent that came across your nostrils, fully smelling Lando. If you wouldn’t be up to different things right now, you would turn around and never stop sniffing his pillow. Was that creepy? Probably.
”You need to tell me, when I need to stop, yeah?“
You nodded, not being able to say anything, excited for what was about to happen. He laid on his chest between your legs, tugging your own sweats down. With a groan he let his head fall onto your thigh, seeing your lace panty made him weak in the knee, thank god he was laying down.
”Did you put Parfum on your legs? God baby, you‘re so fucking sexy.“
”You like it?“
”Are you kidding? Fuck yes.“
He placed kisses on your thighs, and with each kiss, he got closer to where you needed him the most.
”I can smell you from here baby.“
You propped up your legs and he removed your panty with a swift move. Seeing your glistening core, he almost drooled.
”You‘re so fucking wet and I didn’t even touch you properly yet.“
”Ever since you texted me, I was almost not able to resist touching myself.“
”Fuck Baby.“
Before you could respond he licked with his flat tongue over your pussy, collecting most of the wetness that left your core already.
”You taste so sweet, Angel.“
With a groan you placed your hands in his hair, pulling on the strands again.
He flicked your bud of nerves several times then went back to toy with your entrance. A moan escaped your mouth when he inserted his tongue inside of you and with his nose he nudged your clit.
”Lan-“
”Go on, cum for me Y/N.“
Without a warning he inserted his pointer and middle finger into you and focused on your clit with his tongue, moving everything in a rhythm together.
”Fuck Lando, I‘m gonn-“, and before you could finish that sentence, your back arched and the pleasure washed over you, leaving a pulsating feeling in your core. With one last lick, Lando got up and positioned himself over you, his face glistening with your juices.
When he pressed a kiss on your lips you could taste yourself and let out a groan.
”Your skin is so fucking soft Y/N“, Lando said while he caressed your sides.
”Are you ready to take me?“
You just nodded, not being able to say a word. He already made you feel so good and he wasn’t even in you yet, you needed him, you needed him bad.
”I need you, Lan.“
”Good girl. Do you have a condom?“
”No but I‘m on birth control, you don’t have to use one, as long as you’re clean.“
”I sure am.“
His dick twitched at the thought of feeling you without a rubber, the skin on skin contact making him feral.
Taking his cock in his hand, and moved his tip through your folds, wetting his member. He looked you in the eye, silently asking you if you were ready. You nodded your head and pulled his head to yours to press a kiss on his lips, which he returned, sucking your lower lip into his mouth before pulling back and focusing on the cock in his hand. Slowly pushing his tip to your entrance, you closed your legs around his back and nudged him to push more into you. He slowly slid fully in you, as you gasped at the new sensation and felt full. He filled you up perfectly, it was like you were made for each other, stretching you in all the right places. He stood still and waited for your nod of approval to move. You clenched around his cock.
”Fuck Y/N, do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.“
You giggled and nodded your head, indicating him that he could move. He pulled his dick out and forcefully pushed him back in. You both moaned at the sensation.
”I hope you know how good you feel, it’s amazing.“
Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at this compliment. You loved this dirty talk he did, complimenting you. He took his hand and started to play with your clit while still pounding in you. You could feel yourself getting dizzy, the new stimulation giving you the perfect pleasure.
”Fuck Lando, you’re making me feel so full.“
He grunted at that statement. Speeding up with his movements, as well as rubbing and flicking your clit. Your moans getting higher with every thrust.
You could feel your release getting closer.
”Lando, I‘m gonna cu-”
”Baby cum for me.“
With that you felt your inside snap and the orgasm taking over your body, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and your legs started shaking. While you were on your high, Lando went and left kisses on your neck, slightly sucking, leaving faint purple bruises behind.
When you came back down you focused on Lando, clenching around him, trying to get him to cum as well. Sinking your nails into his shoulders and leaving little crescent moons on his skin, they would probably still be seen tomorrow. He groaned and his head fell down on your shoulder, panting. You could feel him painting your insides white, you moaned at the feeling.
”Fuck darling, you feel so good.“
He did some last thrusts to ride out his orgasm and then almost let all of his weight fall down on you. Your hands immediately went into his hair, stroking it while he still had his now softened dick inside of you. He lifted his head and pressed his lips on yours, moving them and creating smacking sounds.
Slowly pulling out, you could feel his and your mixed cum dribbling out of you, enjoying this sensation, Lando sat up and swiped his thumb over your labia, liking how it looked. He wiped his cum covered thumb on the white bed sheet.
”I‘d love to stay here with you, but I need to pee. It’s not very romantic but I don’t even wanna know what happens if I don’t.“
You sat up and Lando replied with a: ”Yes, please go, it’s important. I don’t want you getting a bladder infection after having mind blowing sex.“
You scoffed and got up, ”Mind blowing?“
”What is that supposed to mean?“
You turned around looking into his face, you both were smiling brightly, still having that post sex glow, but also because you joked about the sex you just had. It was fantastic. You started walking towards the en-suite bathroom.
”You were good Lando, but mind blowing? I don’t know.“
”My cum dribbling down your thigh is saying something else.“
You blushed and looked down at your thigh, seeing the white drips rolling from your core. You didn’t know what to say to that and went to the toilet to do your thing. Returning just shortly after, you sat in the bed next to him.
”You want to order some McDonald’s and stay over?“
Part two
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babyjakes · 5 months
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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompt | knotting
pairing | alpha!steve rogers x omega!reader
warnings | omegaverse elements: knotting, mating press, breeding (and me not knowing like anything about the omegaverse.) unprotected p in v. clit rubbing. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. crying kink. breeding kink (like fr he wants her pregnant lol.) he comes in her. some brief aftercare. alpha!steve is so hot and powerful it's ruining my life.
word count | 859
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an | i've wanted to write something substantial for an omegaverse au for sooo long but i've just been so hesitant to bc i don't feel super well-versed in the genre. shoutout to @starksbabie, ao3, and my google images search for teaching me everything i know about knotting LOL. and @brandycranby for teaching me about the mating press lol. if i got anything wrong, please let me know!!
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imagine being alpha!steve's prized omega and mate, being fucked and bred by him during your heat 🤤 (nomad!steve is what comes to mind first, but i've also had a soft spot for endgame look for the longest time, so i'll let you take your pick 😉)
steve's the kind of alpha that doesn't let you lift a single finger (in or out of heat); everything's always done for you because duh!! you're his baby!! this is especially true when it comes to sex during your heat. your only job is to be pleasured and bred. your alpha will do everything for you, no need to worry your pretty little head 💕
thinking about him spreading you out on your back, bringing your bottom up to the edge of the bed so he can stand over you and pound into you as you lay there and take it. he gets you nice and comfy, laying a blanket down beneath you and positioning a pillow under your head to make it easier for you to look up and keep eye contact. of course, he knows you'll spend much of the ordeal with your eyes closed or rolled back in bliss 😏
the number one thing you crave during your heat is the feeling of being filled up, and by now steve's fucked you enough to make you crave being filled by him specifically. he's massive, even for an alpha. long, thick, and unbelievably powerful. because of his overwhelming size and strength, he has to maintain a good balance of fucking you hard enough to satisfy you both, but not too hard to prevent injury
the look on his face as he's ramming into you is a mixture of such pure love and authority. he absolutely talks you through it 😔🙏 you're so overcome with pleasure, he understands it's hard for you to do much talking back
sliding in and out of you at a steady speed, watching as your face is washed over with relief as you finally get what you need. "there you go, honey," smiling as he sees your tummy trembling as it's filled up, "gonna keep fucking this pretty little pussy, just keep being my good girl and taking it. let me give you what you need, doll"
bringing his thumb up to swipe over your quivering clit, always a little eager and impatient with how much he loves to see you come. crooning as you whine and wriggle at the burning feeling he's creating, "i know, baby. i know- so sensitive there, aren't you? look at this pretty little clit. so needy for me"
"nng... n-nnn," he loves the soft, weak little noises you're making. and he loves it even more as they gradually grow louder and more desperate, signaling your building climax
he's working his thumb quicker over your slick button to help keep the pressure rising, "c'mon baby, almost there. you gonna come for me? let's see if we rub a little faster-... oh-" he gasps almost mockingly with a smug smile, praising you heavily as you clench down on his swollen length
and god he could never get tired of seeing you coming. watching as your little face scrunches, your toes curling up in delight, your tummy spasming helplessly as you stammer through a string of angelic, breathy whimpers
"goood, so good for me, baby. keep coming for me, that's it," he draws out his words as you're coming down from your first high. your big, watery eyes and soft little squeaks, paired with having just seen you come, and knowing how sensitive and overstimulated you feel now?? it all makes steve's eyes burn as the heat and primal urges within him rise
it doesn't take long for him to near the edge himself. his large hands come down to manhandle you into position, grabbing under your thighs to force them up, your feet splaying out in the air as he leans himself down over you, his speed and forcefulness bringing tears to your eyes
"gonna come, sweetheart. you want me to fill you up? wanna carry my pups in that pretty little tummy of yours? come on, baby-... shit, that's it-.. f-fuck-"
the feeling of his base rounding out inside you has you crying out weakly, your entire body bracing as you feel the pressure in your core reaching its limit. as the heavy band snaps, your poor, helpless form seizes and spasms beneath your alpha. steve's heavy load shoots into you, the tight mass bulging just inside your entrance locking him inside, forcing you to take what you're given
seconds feel like hours. eventually everything fades to soft tingles as the silence is filled by your and steve's heavy breathing. as soon as he's able, he's shifting so delicately hold you against him, his thick knot still pulsing inside you hard enough to let you feel his heartbeat. "shhh, shhh," he's wiping away the tears that escaped down your cheeks, letting you rest your face in the crook of his neck to breathe in his familiar scent. "i got you, doll. just rest now. close your eyes, i'll take care of you"
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strongheartneteyam · 7 months
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Not the type of girl for you.
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x human!nurse!female!reader
CW: a bit of angst but mostly fluff, wounded neteyam, mentions of blood (nothing graphic but reader is a nurse, right?), friends to lovers, kissing, physical contact, cute neteyam, sexual tension, hurt/comfort, anxious reader, reader thinks neteyam won’t ever have romantic feelings for her because she’s human, love confessions, neteyam flirting with reader
Another one of my works that had been forgotten for ages on my Google Docs and i’m now reviving this pookie and posting it for you guys to see lol comments and reblogs will make me feel so loved and supported! I love you guys so much 💓🌿
na'vi words: sevin tawtute (pretty human), syulang (flower)
Slightly proofread.
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I love you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you
I didn't mean to say what I said
I miss you, I mean it, I tried not to feel it
I can't get you out of my head
I'm not the type of girl for you
And I'm not going to pretend
That I'm the type of girl you'd call more than a friend
Your Type (Carly Rae Jepsen)
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“Look, if I don’t tell you this now I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to, so… Here it goes…” You said as you wrapped a bandage around Neteyam’s wound after you had cleaned it the best you could but there was still a bit of blood in it. It was natural, though. "I..." You sighed nervously "I like you. I'm sorry..." 
You finished tending to his wound and left the bandage at the cold metal table right next to where Neteyam was sitting down while you took care of the wounded areas in his body.
Neteyam looked at you, confused and surprised. He didn't expect to hear those words... at all. He always thought you only saw him as a friend.
"I know nothing will ever happen between us, Teyam, and I don't expect you to answer. Honestly, you can just walk out of here or ask someone else to care for your wounds. I understand if you don't ever wanna see me again. I don't want you to think of me as clingy or that I'm trying to force something because I..." Neteyam watched you non-stop while you were word vomiting "I'm not. I swear. I'm sorry... I made everything awkward. Now we can't be friends anymore. Well, you're all set. Your wounds are taken care of. Hope you heal fast. Gotta go. Bye."
You started to walk fast so you could run away from that uncomfortable situation you thought you had brought upon the both of you but Neteyam quickly got up from the medical chair made specially for the na'vi, bigger than a regular human one, and he ran to you, his long, toned legs helping him, as he only needed like four steps to get where you were, way fewer than a human guy would need.
"(Y/n), wait!" Neteyam exclaimed. You couldn't believe he was talking to you and not to tell you to never speak to him again and that he would never like a human - a demon - girl.
"Can we... talk about what you just said? It's an important piece of information." Neteyam chuckled and then gave you a big, warm smile.
That was so like him. Caring so much about others, trying to make everyone feel comfortable and at ease. That's one of the key things that made you fall in love with him. How beautiful he was on the inside too. If you forget his transcendental na'vi beauty, he would still be so, so beautiful because of how altruistic, kind and brave he was. You felt your heart ache inside your chest. You knew how much you loved Neteyam and how you'd probably love him forever. But you also knew he could never fall in love with a human girl. He wasn't fond of humans. He took after his mother, Neytiri. And you didn't blame him. You weren't that fond of your own race either.
“Can you tell me why you think I wouldn’t like you back?” Neteyam chuckled softly and smiled, his sharp fangs almost making you faint of captivation
Why did he have to be so freaking magnetic? Neteyam made it insanely hard for you not to have all those feelings for him.
“Well, for one, I am human…?” You pointed out, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion
"(y/n), you're not just any human. You understand and respect my Planet and the na'vi ways, you work helping heal our kids and warriors and I think I sense some love for Eywa in you. Being human is not a reason for me not to like you." He smiled, reassuring you "I've actually had a crush on you for... some months now." He confessed as his tail moved from side to side, making his joy apparent
Wait, hold on... what? Did Neteyam just say he had a crush on you? You definitely were not expecting that.
“What did you just say?” Your eyebrows were still furrowed as you chuckled, unbelieving
“I said I like you too, sevin tawtute.” Neteyam smiled and got closer to you, pulling you in, bringing you dangerously close to his strong but soft body
Suddenly, Neteyam put his big hands under your arms and lift you in the air and you feared falling so, before you knew it, you were wrapping your legs around his waist.
His smile grew wider and he said “I’m gonna start courting you now. Do you even realize how pretty you look in your nurse uniform?” His flirting made your heart skip a beat and your legs felt weak. Good thing he was holding you in his arms.
Oh my God… Neteyam was actually holding you in his arms and he said he liked you back and that he was gonna start courting you… That didn’t sound real. You started to wonder if you were dreaming about him again. It used to happen fairly often. You were soon awakened from your thoughts by a sultry masculine voice.
“Syulang?” Neteyam called, realizing you seemed to be somewhere else, and you smiled at him when you understood that it was not a dream but actually reality. Neteyam smiled back. “You get so distracted sometimes." He chuckled "So cute.” Neteyam kissed you softly and quickly, leaving no time for you to even see it was coming before his lips were pressing tenderly against yours. His kiss felt sweet and caring, like you were precious to him. His lips tasted like Paradise and that's exactly where you felt you currently were.
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Taglist:
@yeosxxx
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formulapierre · 4 months
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If You Love Her | Pierre Gasly
Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader
Prompt : Based off of the song 'If you love her' by Forest Blakk. You finally decide to give Pierre your everything and you get his everything in return, except the universe seems to have other plans.
Warnings: Life changing injuries; Any other language apart from English was done by google translate, apologies for anything incorrect x
Word Count: 5261
Song: If you love her - Forest Blakk
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Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it
“I'm ready to let you in,” You say, you had been guarding your heart for months now; scared, no, terrified of being betrayed again by someone who told you they loved you. 
“Then let me in cherie,” He says with a smile as he gently cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek.
“I love you…” You say. He had said it a few weeks ago, assuring you there was no pressure for you to say it back. You had met through a mutual friend, that being your ex-boyfriend, who at one point in time had been Pierre’s best friend. Though after seeing everything He had done to you and seeing how damaged you were; both of you decided never to speak of him again. 
“I love you too,” He says softly, bringing you in for a gentle kiss. “So much,” He adds, causing you to blush. You were then, and still are now, surprised that someone like him could love someone like you.
Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have
“You need to leave,” Pierre said calmly to the guy who had been pounding on the door to your apartment for the last ten minutes, adamant on talking to you.
“Mate, just let me talk to her,” He said, voice holding strong.
“She doesn’t want you here, and neither do I,” Pierre replies, looking over at your tear-stained face as you sit on the couch. “Cherie, go into our bedroom, you don’t need to hear any of this,” He says and you quickly follow his advice.
“Just go home, neither of us are opening the door for you. Y/N Is gone, she can’t hear you,” He tells your ex-boyfriend who was still adamant on seeing you.
“Ma-,” Your Ex goes to say before Pierre cuts him off.
“I’m not your ‘mate’ anymore. And I’m fed up now, I just want to go and make sure Y/N’s ok, so I’ll put this plainly for you. If you don’t leave in the next 30 seconds, I will call the police,” He said bluntly. There’s one last bang on the door before it all goes quiet. Pierre pulls up the security feed from the camera outside the door and sees your Ex begrudgingly walking back towards the elevators. He sighs in relief as the camera loses sight of him. Pierre quickly makes his way into your bedroom and finds you curled up underneath a mound of blankets.
“Hi cherie, it’s just me,” He says getting onto the bed next to you. You almost immediately turn over and cuddle into his chest. “What do you need?” He asks, wanting more than anything to take this feeling away
“I just need you to hold me,” You say as you cling to the shirt he was wearing, not wanting him to leave you.
“I can do that” He says with a smile as he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you.
She always has trouble falling asleep And she likes to cuddle while under the sheets
Yourinstagram
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yourinstagram Life lately...
yourbestfriend People either want to be you, or be with you 🤩
PierreGasly Missing you Cherie <3
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Pierre had been gone for what felt like ages, in reality it had only been a few weeks and you had facetimed each other most nights. Falling asleep next to each other was something you had both become very accustomed to. You knew his flight arrived in the small hours of the morning into Malpensa Airport and he made you promise that you wouldn’t wait up for him. You had settled into bed slightly later than you normally would, opting for one of your favourite movies and eventually falling asleep. 
You didn’t hear the front door to the apartment as he came in. Drop his suitcases and carry on by the door before heading straight for your bedroom. He kicked his shoes off and got undressed before slipping into bed next to you. You had fallen asleep facing his side of the bed, wanting to see him when he got back and luckily you did. As the bed dipped and he moved closer to you, you slowly woke up; arms instantly reaching out for him as he made himself comfortable.
“Missed you whilst you were away” You say as He wraps his arms around you.
“I missed you too Cherie,” He says, kissing the top of your head.
“Glad you’re finally home,” You add sleepily as you cuddle into him, resting your head on his chest as he pulls the sheets over you both.
“-and I’m not going anywhere,” He says as you fall back to sleep, just as quickly as you woke up.
She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV
It had been a fairly productive day on your part, you had mailed a letter to your Grandma, sent a package to your Aunt with birthday presents for your niece and nephew and gone grocery shopping. You were slightly surprised when you found the apartment unlocked; cursing at yourself as you had evidently forgotten to lock it. You turned the handle and pushed the door open with your foot as you had grocery bags in your hands.
“I can help,” Pierre says coming out of the kitchen and taking some of the bags from your hands,
“What are you doing here?” You ask with a pleasantly surprised smile on your face. He must have been back a while as the living room was now tidy and He was in the process of doing the kitchen. Music was playing in the background, though it wasn’t his music, it was yours…
“I took the day off,” He says as you put the bags down on the kitchen counter; He takes you into his arms and you both start to sway to the music. “I thought we could start the new season of that reality tv show you watch,” He adds, spinning you round. “Oh, and I picked up that album you’ve been listening to on vinyl,” He says as you both dance around the kitchen.
There's still a few other things She loves love notes and babies and likes giving gifts Has a hard time accepting a good compliment
‘Good Morning, mon cherie, i woke up early this morning so have decided to get a quick gym session in before we leave; i won’t be too long and then i'll bring you breakfast in bed. Maman isn’t expecting us until 11 so we’ve got a couple hours before we need to catch our flight.  I can’t wait for you to see what I got you.
I love you more than you’ll ever know , P x
Pierre certainly delivered on his promise as the next time you saw him He had breakfast in hand, both of your bags packed next to the closet door as He got back into bed. You spent an hour in bed together before you had to get up and get ready to go. You had been looking forward to Christmas with Pierre’s family for months, slightly disappointed that you weren’t going to see your family until the 27th.
She loves hеr whole family and all of her friends So if you'rе the one she lets in
The jet touched down at the airport in Paris, a rental car waiting for us on the tarmac as we grabbed our bags. The drive from here to Rouen was pretty good and didn’t take too long so before You knew it you were pulling into the driveway. You could already see everyones cars parked up and there looked to be a few more than usual but you just chalked it up to Pierre having a large family and maybe there were a few more cousins joining you this year.
Pascale had spotted you as you drove down the driveway so was already on the doorstep waiting for you. She wrapped her arms around you both, telling you how much she had missed you. Even though she had seen you a few weeks ago at the Abu Dhabi GP she acted like she hadn’t seen you in years.
You were quickly ushered inside and out of the cold, as you were hanging your coat up you thought you saw someone you recognised, you thought it was your Mum…you laughed to yourself knowing there was no way it could have been her…must have been Pierre’s other cousins that parked their cars outside. Everyone was sitting around the fireplace watching a movie whilst Pascale and Pierre’s sister in law cooked christmas dinner. 
“Uncle P!” His niece shouted when she saw him. Scrambling to get up and run into his arms, the other children quickly followed, they didn’t forget about you either. Pierre’s youngest niece is almost being more excited to see you. Then you thought you saw her again…and your Dad sat next to each other on the far couch, smiling back at you. 
“Mum? Dad?” You ask and your Mum quickly comes over to you. “What are you guys doing here?” You ask looking between them.
“Pierre called, said you were annoyed you wouldn’t be seeing us today and that you wished you could have a huge family christmas so He invited us. I hope that’s alright?” She asks and you quickly nod.
“That's more than alright,” You reply, pulling her in for another hug. Growing up with no siblings or cousins, Christmas was always very quiet so you loved the years you were at Pierre’s with his entire family.
Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her
PierreGasly
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PierreGasly Christmas dumpp
yourdad Thanks for having us!
yourinstagram You are literally the loml 😍
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“You’re incredible you know that,” You say as you drive back towards the airport. It had been a busy few days with His family and you were glad you were finally heading home. You had made some amazing memories and it would be a Christmas you’d never forget.
“I’m glad you liked it Cherie,” Pierre said, squeezing your thigh lightly as he rested his hand there.
“No-one's ever done anything as thoughtful as that before…it really means a lot to me,” You say honestly.
“They should have done, you deserve the world Y/N,” He replies and you lace your fingers into his.
On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that
yourinstagram
📍 Bahrain International Circuit, Bahrain
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yourinstagram Tell a friend, to tell a friend...WE'RE BACKKKK!!!!!!!!
Unknown1 Pierre and Y/N are my roman empire
Unknown2 We've been waiting far too long for this...
WaGsF1 The 'IT' couple are backk!
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“-fuck!” Pierre shouts as he pulls his helmet off, he crosses the garage not sparing you a glance. He had collided with Alonso on the first corner, suffering too much damage so they had to retire the car. Honestly, a rookie mistake. But any little thing always caused Pierre to spiral. You gave him a few moments to calm down before you left your seat and headed towards his driver's room. As you walked in his race suit was strewn over the couch, fireproofs on the floor and boxers by the bathroom door. The sound of the shower was the giveaway.
You picked up his clothes, putting them into the laundry bag in the corner. He came out a few moments later, towel wrapped around his waist.
“I don’t know why I bother anymore,” He says to you as he uses another towel to dry his hair. “I’m not fucking good enough, this is my 7th season, I should not be making stupid mistakes like that,” He adds, collapsing onto the couch next to you.
“You are good enough Pierre, they wouldn’t have signed you if they didn’t think so,” You remind him. 
“There were so many other people that should have gotten the seat…Doohan, Pourchaire, Martins? They’d all be doing a better fucking job than I am,” He says and you lean back against the couch, your fingers moving to thread themselves between Pierre’s damp hair.
“It’s only the first race of the season…you’re not completely comfortable with the car yet. It’s fine Pierre, it happens. But you are good enough and you do deserve to be here,” You assure him.
Kiss her with passion as much as you can
You were sitting in the back of his garage, headset on as you listened to the engineer chatter, you had always been interested in that kind of thing so any opportunity you get to listen in, you always take. Pierre was also in on the conversation, standing with the group of engineers. They were wrapping up the conversation when He came over to you, pulling the headset down and letting it hang around your neck. His finger moved under your shin and he pulled you into a slow and loving kiss.
“What was that for?” You ask breathlessly a few moments after he pulled away.
“-because you’re beautiful” He replies and you blush. He presses a final kiss to your forehead before he starts to put in his ear plugs and pull his balaclava on. A wide smile on his face as he walks away from you.
And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is Tell her over and over so she never forgets
The summer break could not have come soon enough, despite Pierre’s rocky start to the season He had managed to claw his way back, now sitting comfortably in 3rd in the drivers championship. To say it was his best season yet would be an understatement. But.  All of that meant the pressure was on, and you were both starting to feel it. It was a unanimous decision that you needed a vacation and Bali was always a good idea. The flights had been booked only a few hours after the decision had been made, and ever since then you had been counting down the days.
“Are you sure this looks ok?” You ask Pierre as you get ready for a day at the beach. “You don’t think it's showing off a little bit too much?” You add as you look at yourself in the mirror. The dark green bikini you had chosen left very little to the imagination.
“Cherie you look stunning, you look beautiful in everything you wear” He assured you, coming up behind you and resting his head on your shoulder. “It’s Bali cherie, I guarantee there will be people wearing much less than you, right?” He asks, snaking his arms around your waist. “I think you look hot, and that’s all that matters,” He says as he starts to kiss your neck.
Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in
yourinstagram
📍 Bali, Indonesia
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yourinstagram When in doubt, go to Bali
Unknown4 That bikini is certainly brave...
Unknown5 God I wish i was them...
Unknown6 That is much more of y/n then anyone needs to see
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“I told you I shouldn’t have worn it…have you seen the comments? Pierre, look at them,” You say to him as you hold your phone up
“They’re just jealous cherie, you looked stunning…besides, it doesn’t matter what they think does it?” He asks, taking your phone, it's quickly turned off and placed on the coffee table.
“No…” You answer as he sits down on the couch next to you
“Exactly, come here,” He says pulling you into his arms, he knew that the comments got to you sometimes, and that all he could do was reassure you that they don’t mean anything.
On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it
yourinstagram
📍 Singapore
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yourinstagram Race day in the Lion city!
PierreGasly Doing this one for you mon amour <3
-- yourinstagram Good luck darling <3
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You felt like the word was standing still, time had slowed, your breath catching in your throat.
No.
No.
No.
This couldn’t be happening. Pierre had lost control, the power steering had gone and his brakes had failed. There was nothing you could do except watch as his car hurtled along the track, spinning as it hit the barrier, being flown up and into the air when it hit the curb at the wrong angle; finally coming to a stop in the tire barrier.
Where was he?
The car was a smoking wreck, why wasn’t he out by now? You could hear the faint sounds of his race engineer trying to contact him but everyone in the garage knew that would be a lost cause. Then, suddenly, almost as quickly as it had all started, there were flames. Bright, hot, burning flames exploding from the rear of the car. Your hand clutched over your mouth as you had tried to look away, Pierre’s trainer spotted you and tried to lead you away into his drivers room, but you just couldn't take your eyes off of the screen.
Why wasn’t he out?
The red flags flew the moment He had hit the barrier so half the crew were supposed to be more concerned with Esteban’s car but nobody was. They were all fixed in place, unable to move as their eyes were glued to the screens. Marshalls sprinted towards the burning wreck, fire extinguishers in hand as they started to spray down the car. You saw him. Or at least you thought they did. A hand. There it was again. Waving. One of the marshalls ran forwards, spraying the area around him. You could just about make out Pierre trying desperately to pull himself out of the cockpit. Eventually the marshalls had thrown their fire extinguishers down and went in, both of them physically pulling Pierre out.
The screens cut away.
You let Ben take you out of the garage towards a quieter area where you could try and compose yourself. “Charles is outside asking for you,” One of the media personnel said after knocking on the door. You wiped the tears from your eyes and headed out. As soon as he saw you, He quickly wrapped his arms around you and you broke down again.
She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that
It had been three weeks of the same. Arriving at the hospital at 9am, just as visiting time started, leaving at 9pm, just as visiting time ended. And despite how much you hated it, you refused to be anywhere else. He had remained unconscious for the first couple of days, those had been the hardest. Not knowing if he was going to wake up, His crash had been measured at 132G, nobody expected him to. But he did.
“Y-,” He muttered, softly moving his head. “Y-,” He said again, this time catching your attention. You rushed to his side, taking his hand in yours.
“I’m right here Pierre, I’ve got you,” You say, tears rolling down your face as he faintly squeezed your hand. As you held his hand you called for the doctor, having been asked to if he woke up. They assessed him as you sat there, Pierre was very reactive to any movement you made; squeezing your hand as you shifted positions, begging you not to leave his side.
She'll love you If you love her like that
After three long weeks in a Singaporean hospital it was finally agreed that Pierre could be moved to a hospital in Paris, much closer to all of his family; you had spent another three weeks in there as Pierre underwent different operations on his legs. They had become trapped between different parts of carbon fibre and metal during the crash; the base of his spine also having been damaged. That was why He couldn’t get out. 
The Hospital in Paris knew Pierre was itching to get out, that was evident to anyone that came to visit him. They released him pretty quickly and after six weeks in hospitals Pierre was finally free to go. Though he was nowhere near full health. He was in a wheelchair, unable to walk by himself. So one of the conditions of him being discharged was that you would find a place together in Paris, close to the hospital so He could attend all of his check-ups and rehab appointments.
By the second week Pierre was ready to give up. “Why are you still here?” He asked you one morning as you helped him get dressed. You knew he hated this, not being able to do things for himself.
“Because I love you,” You assured him as you handed him a shirt. Any ounce of independence he could have, you made sure to give him.
“There are many better men for you cherie, none of them need help getting dressed in the mornings. You don’t deserve this,” He said, and this wasn’t the first time He had shared this sentiment with you.
“But none of them are you, my love,” You reminded him. “I wouldn’t be doing this for anyone other than you,” You add as you put his feet through the legs of his trousers.
“T-thank you,” He says, voice faltering as you pull his trousers up his legs and over his ass.
“I’ve got you and I’ll always have you, I promise,” You say, pressing a kiss to his lips as you grab his wheelchair. Thankfully, that was the one thing He had gotten used to quickly, transferring himself in and out of the wheelchair, as that was probably the only thing you couldn’t have done.
She'll love you If you love her
He hated it, and you weren’t surprised. At the moment his sessions were only an hour long as He got tired and frustrated very quickly. You totally understood everything that was going on inside his mind. He had gone from being one of the fastest men alive to barely being able to take two steps without assistance.
Pierre had always said that He wanted you with him every step of the way, and when you promised that you would be, you really meant it. If that meant sitting in a chair on the far end of the room, so be it. He didn’t want you to help him, encourage him or anything. He hated showing you how weak he was. But you both knew He needed you there.
There were two long beams that he rested his arms onto as He tried to put one foot in front of the other. His physical therapist and rehab assistant had both assured Pierre that he had come on leaps and bounds since He first came through the door. Back then he was unable to stand up without help, but now he could get out of the wheelchair and lift himself up to hold the bars
She'll love you If you love her
You were sitting in the kitchen of your parisian apartment, working on your laptop as Pierre took a nap after his PT appointment. They always took everything out of him so the first thing He wanted to do was go to sleep. The apartment had been quiet for a few hours until you heard a crash from the bedroom. You instantly bolted from your seat and ran towards the sound; you found Pierre on the floor in the bathroom.
“-merde,” He swore as He tried to get back up. You went to help him but He pushed you away. “I don’t need your help,” He said through gritted teeth as he tried to stand back up.
“Just slow down and take a breath,” You said, repeating the words his physio had been telling him for months. He was always trying to do things at 100mph when he wasn’t capable. “Let me help you,” You say softly as you crouch down to him.
“I am so fucking fed up of slowing down,” He says and you nod, he had also been saying that for months.
“I know you are darling, but you’ll only hurt yourself more if you don’t,” You tell him as you offer your arm to him so he can stand back up. You knew why he had fallen, there was a slight lip on the doorframe to the bathroom that you had stubbed your toe on a few times, neither of you had noticed it when viewing the apartment and Pierre now had the tendency to drag his feet a little so it was bound to happen at some point.
She'll love you If you love her
Pierregasly
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PierreGasly The last 12 months have been tough. From being bed-bound to being able to take a few steps was a huge challenge; but we keep pushing forwards 👊
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The rest of the evening had been quiet, you cooked dinner for the both of you, Pierre silently taking his and eating in the study. That had been his one fault. He hated making mistakes; so tripping and falling like he did was a massive blow to his ego and dignity. He was already fast asleep by the time you went to bed, facing away from you so you just left him to it. 
When you woke up you realised he wasn’t there, feeling his side of the bed you found a small yellow post-it note.
‘Don’t move, i want to surprise you and make up for yesterday
-P x
You did exactly what the note said and stayed in bed, picking up your phone and answering some messages you had gotten; about 15 minutes later the bedroom door opened, Pierre came in holding a plate and a mug. He carefully placed the mug down on the bedside table before passing you the plate that had fresh berries and pancakes on. “You didn’t have to,” You say, taking a bite and you instantly recognise that this was his own pancake recipe he used to make for you all the time.
“Yes I did,” He says, pinching a blueberry off of the side of the plate. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you, you were only trying to help,” He says with a regretful look on his face.
“You’re still entitled to your feelings Pierre,” You remind him and He nods.
“I know I am, but that shouldn’t be at your expense, I’m sorry,” He says and you pull him into a soft kiss. 
On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it
The video starts to play, Pierre stands up from a chair across the room, walking towards the camera slowly, still slightly wobbly on his feet. “Hi Everybody, Pierre here. I know I’ve been very quiet on social media over the past eighteen months or so since the crash and that’s because I've really been focused on my recovery and the long process of learning to walk again. I wanted to tell you all what happened and that primarily, I’m ok. During the accident both my legs became trapped and I also shattered two of my lower vertebrae; that left me, for the first six months, totally paralysed from the waist down. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude to my physio team who have done everything they can to get me into the position I'm in today,” He says before there is a short montage of photos showing Pierre in hospital, then in the first few stages of physiotherapy of him learning how to stand up by himself. 
“I know that my journey is far from over, I’ve still got pins in my legs from where they were crushed, and only after they have been removed should I begin the road to full mobility. Whilst I've been recovering Formula One has been incredible in assisting with finding me the correct doctors to suit my injuries and keeping the door open to future plans. Y/N’s been quietly active on social media and has told me of quite a few tweets and comments about my possible return to racing and I want to clear things up. I hold absolutely nothing against Alpine, Formula One or the FIA about my accident, as it was exactly that. An accident, there was an investigation and there was nothing anybody could have done. However this does not mean I am ready or willing to return to racing; I have no plans to return to racing in the future, I feel I need to be investing more into my personal life, thanking those who have stood by me over the past two years. Y/N and I got engaged during that time so we are in the middle of wedding preparations and we could not be happier.” He continues before it cuts to more photos of the final stages of his PT and then the video of him proposing, He was still on crutches at the time and was unable to kneel but the sentiment was still there. “-And finally I want to thank all of you guys, my fans, all of your kind comments and messages are read and they really help me to get through those tough days. I probably won’t be very active on social media going forward so for now; thank you, and goodbye,” He says with a wide smile.
She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that
yourinstagram and PierreGasly
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yourinstagram Mr and Mrs Gasly - 23/8/2026
PierreGasly Cant forget about Pedro! 🐶
-- yourinstagram Never!
a few years later...
“Pierre,” The interviewer started. “We are now 5 years on from your near-fatal accident, how are you doing?” She asks. The studio hadn’t changed since the last time he was filming here during his career in F1.
“I’m doing really well; I’m back to pretty much full mobility, a little stiff here and there but my wife says that's just because i’m getting old,” He says with a laugh, you roll your eyes from behind the camera.
“We all saw the photos that she posted a few weeks ago, updating your fans on your life at the moment. Tell me about that, you always hear the horror stories of partners leaving because they couldn’t cope. How much does it mean to you that She stayed?” She asked as you were slightly taken aback…that wasn’t one of the prepared questions.
“It means everything to me…there were times during my recovery where I would tell her to go, to leave me and that she didn’t deserve this. But she stayed, and I don’t think leaving was ever an option in her mind. I owe her everything and I will spend the rest of my life trying to show her how thankful I am.” Pierre answers honestly, not looking at the interviewer, but looking behind her at you as He spoke.
“I love you,” You mouth back, aware you weren’t allowed to talk out loud but he heard you, loud and clear.
“I mean you guys were the ‘it’ couple in the paddock before the accident…now i think the entire paddock is jealous of the love the both of you share, it really is beautiful to watch you two,” She tells you both. 
“Have we got an extra chair?” He asks, looking over at the producers. One of the crew quickly moves a spare chair next to Pierre who stands up, holding out his hand to you. “Come join us…this is just as much your story as it is mine Cherie, I wouldn’t be here without you,” He reminds you as you cross the set to him. He presses a kiss to your forehead before you both take your seats.
finite
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krirebr · 2 months
Text
More Than This 4
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Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader
Word Count: ~6.1k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, a panic attack, p in v sex, sex in maybe not the best mindset, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
A/N: I thought this was gonna be a short one. 😂
Gigantic thanks as always to @paperweight91 who helped me figure out what the problem was when I was really struggling to feel inspired on this one, and then later on when the narrative took a bit of a turn that I wasn't expecting, she helped me navigate it and come out the other side. Chelsea, you continue to be the very best!
And an additional hat tip to @thezombieprostitute, who left a comment on the last part that inspired part of Linda's visit here. Thanks, dear!!
Unsurprisingly probably, this is another sad one. But I hope it'll be worth it!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!
As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
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You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.
“Hey, Steve. It’s me. Again. Your sister. Um, shit. Yeah, you’re at work now, aren’t you? Sorry, I still haven’t gotten used to the time difference. I got your texts, and, uh, everything is fine. I’m– I’m doing good. But I miss you. And it’d be nice to hear your voice. But I’m fine, I’m good, I promise. I just– I’ll try again soon. Love you. Ok. Bye.”
You hung up and sighed, setting your phone down beside you. You hadn’t actually spoken to Steve since you’d gotten on the plane a week ago. Which was fine. You were doing fine. He’d texted you. And he was busy. You knew he was. It’d be easier, you thought if you were too. But everything had been unpacked. The housekeeper took care of all the upkeep of the house and you got the distinct impression that she didn’t much care for your “help,” so now when she was here you mostly tried to stay out of her way. Even Lola was getting tired of going for walks around the neighborhood.
You’d barely seen your husband since your disastrous attempt at sex. He’d been avoiding you, leaving early in the morning and coming home late at night. You hadn’t talked about what happened. You’d barely talked about anything.  
You looked at your laptop on the coffee table and exited out of the WebMD entry on erectile dysfunction. That wasn’t helping. With nothing to do and no one to talk to, all you could do was think about what would happen to you if you couldn’t get Ransom to fuck you. If you didn’t get pregnant. You still hadn’t seen the contract and weren’t sure what the actual terms were, but you knew the consequences would be nothing good. 
Steve had had an aunt on his mother’s side who’d been found in breach of contract and had her marriage dissolved. You never really knew her, but you remembered how Joseph talked about her, about the desperate arrangement she’d eventually had to settle for, the sadness in Steve’s eyes whenever she came up. That wouldn’t be you, couldn’t be you. You knew you wouldn’t even start to feel secure in your arrangement until that part of the contract had been fulfilled. You just needed to figure out how.
But, dwelling on it wasn’t helping. Googling possible causes of Ransom’s issue wasn’t helping (although it was better than listening to the voice in your head that wouldn’t stop telling you that he just didn’t want to touch you). You needed something to do. Back in LA, you’d worked part-time at an art gallery Steve had introduced you to. You’d mostly answered the phones and greeted people as they came in, but you’d liked it. There had to be something like that available in Boston. And at least trying to find it would give you something to focus on.
So you lost yourself in compiling a list of galleries you could try to contact, sitting on the couch with Lola curled up beside you. When Ransom came home late that night, that’s how he found you. You looked up, startled when he came in the door, and found a similar expression on his face. 
“Oh,” he said. “You’re still up,” as he took off his coat and shoes.
“Yeah,” you said, not knowing what else to say.
He nodded and came as far as the beginning of the living area, then stopped and just stared at you for a moment. You waited for whatever it was he was going to say. Then, finally, “How was your day?”
“It was fine,” then, gathering your courage and hoping you wouldn’t be shut down, you added, “I started to look for a job.”
“Oh,” he looked mildly surprised. “Do you have any experience?”
You pushed down the tinge of hurt that bubbled up at that. The question wasn’t completely uncalled for. Many of your friends back home had never worked a day in their lives. But you couldn’t help feeling a little defensive when you answered, “Yes, I worked at the front desk of an art gallery back home. I liked it. I’d like to find something like that here.”
Ransom hummed thoughtfully as he nodded. “Well,” he said, looking off into the corner of the room, “uh, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with that.”
“Oh,” you said, too surprised to say anything else for a moment. You’d been sure he’d say no. You weren’t quite sure what to do with an offer of help, of all things. And you would need his help if you got the job, with a way to get yourself there at the very least. But you didn’t want to jinx it or push things too far right now, so you just said, “Thank you. I will.” And then, “Uh, how was your day?”
“It was fine,” he said, stiffly. “Busy, I’ve been really busy. And I’m, uh, I’m exhausted now. So I’m going to go straight to bed. Feel free to stay up as late as you want. Obviously.” And just like that, he turned on his heel and left the room. 
You should’ve gone after him, maybe. Made him talk to you about it. Or just taken your clothes off while he was talking (although that hadn’t worked the first time). Something. But you were tired too and you just didn’t have it in you, as important as you knew it was. 
So, you gave it about half an hour before you went to bed yourself, going through your nighttime routine as quietly as you could in the ensuite. When you went back out to the bedroom, you found Lola already on the bed, curled up against Ransom’s side. You stopped, wondering if you should move her. She’d slept in the bed with you for the last four nights, ever since that awful night, and Ransom hadn’t said anything about making her stop. And he obviously hadn’t noticed her snuggling up next to him, so maybe it was fine. You climbed in next to her and wrapped your body around hers, ignoring the way it made you brush up against Ransom, too.
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The next afternoon, you were busying yourself with trying to reorganize your walk-in closet, when you heard someone moving around downstairs. It wasn’t one of the housekeeper’s days, so you made sure you had your phone on you and started down the stairs with caution. 
When you got about halfway down, you saw Linda standing in the middle of the living room. “Linda!” you exclaimed, unable to hide your shock at her standing before you. “Ransom didn’t tell me you’d be stopping by. I didn’t know you had a key.”
“Of course, I do, I’m his mother. And I’m the one who set him up with this house.” She cast a judgemental eye on the room. “I see you’ve been moving some things around.”
“Oh,” you said, now at the bottom of the stairs and looking around a little worriedly. You’d tried so hard to disrupt as little as possible. “Not much, I don’t think. Just a little to make room for my own things.”
Linda hummed in a way that made you want to shrink inside yourself. “Well,” she said and held out a gift bag. “I brought you a little something.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, forcing a smile as you took the gift, slightly afraid of what might be in it. You glanced inside, moving aside the tissue paper to find about a dozen pregnancy tests. “Oh,” you said, afraid if you said anything more you might burst into tears. It was fine it was fine it was fine.
“Just want you to be prepared,” she said.
“Thank you,” you forced out. “You really shouldn’t have.” 
“Well,” she clapped her hands together, “why don’t you get us some coffee?”
You forced another smile, trying to cover the panic you felt that she was staying. “Yes, of course.” You took your time getting the coffee prepared in the kitchen. Once it was ready, and you had the cream and sugar and everything else gathered on a tray, you couldn’t delay it any longer and brought everything out to the living room. Linda helped herself to a mug, finishing it to her liking as you did the same. You caught, though, the little face she made at her first sip. That was fine, it was her son’s fucking coffee.
“This is nice,” she said, in that particular syrupy tone of voice she had that meant she was trying too hard to seem friendly. “Just the two of us. Overdue.”
You made yourself nod. “Yes,” you said, “It’s great to see you.”
“I was talking to Ransom this morning, and he mentioned that you’re looking for a job?”
“Oh,” you started, something about her tone making you cautious, “yeah, you know, something to keep me occupied. I used to work at an art gallery and I’m hoping I can do something similar here.”
She took a sip of her coffee, then pursed her lips. “Well, that sounds lovely. But are you sure it’s a good idea with a baby on the way?”
You did your best to chuckle, trying to keep things light as you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. “I’m not pregnant yet, Linda.”
“Maybe not, but you will be soon. And do you really think it’s fair to get a job when you’re just going to have to quit in a few weeks anyway?”
You stared at her confused, your own coffee now forgotten. “We don’t know exactly when I’ll get pregnant.” You may not care for Ransom much, but you certainly weren’t going to discuss his possible impotence with his mother. Or the fact that he just didn’t want you. “And I don’t understand why I would have to quit once I got pregnant anyway.”
“Well, I’m sure Ransom won’t want you working once you’re pregnant. He’ll want you to focus on growing his child and getting everything prepared for the baby.”
You felt the air go out of your lungs. All you could do was gape at her. What? You flashed back to the wedding, to Harlan telling you how good you were going to be for Ransom. To your mother telling you to keep him happy. To Joseph’s speech barely even mentioning you. It was like you as a person didn’t exist anymore. You were just here for him. Your whole life set up just to cater to him. You felt the tears starting to gather in your eyes, but you would not cry in front of this woman. 
“But,” you started, “you worked all through your pregnancy and Ransom’s childhood, didn’t you? I don’t understand why I wouldn’t be able to, too.”
“Oh,” she said, as she gave you the most condescending look you might have ever received, “I see. You think you and I are the same. Sweetheart, no. I helped my father choose my arraignment. I came into it with my own money, having already established myself. A real career, not some silly part-time gallery job. I’m the one who supports Richard. I’ve always had the power. I was never you. And you will never be me. So, how about you let Ransom take good care of you and you focus on the things that you can give him, hmm?”
You just stared at her, feeling suddenly numb. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? You’d only spoken to her a few times and every single time she’d made you feel so small, insignificant, weak. 
She placed her mug on the table and stood up. “I’ll get out of your hair now, dear, but this was so nice. We’ll have to do it again soon.” She stood in front of you as all you could do was sit and stare. She raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow at you and you finally realized that she wanted you to stand. You robotically did so, still so numb from this short visit. As soon as you were upright, she gave you a stiff hug and patted you on the shoulder. “I’m so glad we were able to put this silly job idea to bed,” she said. “I’ll show myself out. Have a good rest of your day, darling.” And then she was gone and you were left standing alone in the middle of Ransom’s living room.
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You spent the rest of the afternoon running Linda’s visit through your mind, over and over. The thing you couldn’t understand was why, if Ransom was so against you working, he hadn’t said anything about it last night. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell you no right away, rather than siccing his mother on you the next day? Why would he say yes? Was it just so that he could look like the good guy before he had his mom do his dirty work for him? Was he really that much of a chickenshit? 
When you got to a point when you thought you might actually drive yourself crazy if you thought about it anymore, you got your phone out and tried, once again, to call Steve. 
You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.
You wanted to scream. You were so fucking tired of talking to his machine. Every time you thought you couldn’t feel more alone, you just fell deeper.
“Hey, Steve. Um, I’d really love it if you could call me back. I know you’re busy. I don’t mean to– I’m sorry. I just– I just really miss you. I’d really like to talk to you. I love you. Ok. Bye.”
You hung up and then just stared at your black phone screen for a moment. You couldn’t just sit in the house anymore. “Lola!” you called out into the house, not sure of where she’d gotten off to. “Want to go for a walk?”
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Ransom didn’t come home that night, the absolute fucking coward.
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When you woke up the next day, you couldn’t tell if Ransom’s side of the bed had been slept in or not. Lola was sprawled across it, taking up much more space than her tiny body would indicate. You decided not to dwell on it.
There was a text message from Steve, sent in the middle of the night.
Hey chipmunk. I’m so sorry I keep missing your calls. I’ve been absolutely slammed this week. I’ll try to call you soon. Hope you’re doing ok. I miss you so much. Love you.
You couldn’t stop staring at it. The childhood nickname combined with the distance the message represented made your whole chest ache. 
As the day wore on, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The housekeeper didn’t want you around. All the unpacking was done. You couldn’t look for a job. You tried to read but you couldn’t focus. You called Steve but he didn’t pick up, again, and you just didn’t have it in you to leave another message.  
You felt like you sleepwalked through the whole day, so when Ransom walked in in the evening, you were startled to realize the day was gone.
Lola lept off your lap on the couch and ran to him as soon as he came in the door, hopping up and down and prancing in front of him. He froze, his scarf halfway off his neck and caught in his hands. “What is it doing?” he asked, turning to you, absolutely bewildered.
“I– I don’t know,” you said, staring at your dog. It was stupid, you knew it was so stupid, but you couldn’t help the frisson of betrayal that ran through you. She was supposed to be yours. She was supposed to love you, only you. And now she was consorting with the enemy. And you were jealous of a dog. But what else did you have? Your husband wouldn’t touch you, your brother wouldn’t call you back, and now your dog loved someone else. It all made you want to sob. “I think she’s happy to see you.”
He looked at you aghast. “Why?!”
“I don’t know,” you said again. “Lola,” you called, but she was still hopping up and down in front of Ransom. “Lola!” She turned at your stern tone and reluctantly ran back to you. You picked her up and cradled her in your arms. “Sorry,” you said to Ransom, then quietly murmured, “What were you doing?” into her fur. You glanced at the time. “You’re home early.”
“Uh, yeah,” he said, somewhat sheepish. “Finally got out of work at a decent hour.”
“Oh.” It felt so weird to have him here. “I guess we could have dinner. Have you eaten?”
“Uh, no. Dinner sounds great.” He finally came out of the entryway and began digging through his fridge, pulling out two of the pre-prepared meals his housekeeper kept there. 
As he put them in the microwave, all you could do was stare at him. You’d had the last twenty-four hours to stew in your anger and sadness and now all you really felt was tired. There was nothing you could do. It was his house, his family that held the strings. You were far from home with no one to back you up. He’d seen to it that you didn’t have a job to fall back on. All you could do was go along with what he wanted. The only thing you could do was make your place here more secure. As he bent down to get a plate out of the microwave, you blurted out, “Why won’t you fuck me?”
He straightened up quickly and stared at you. “What the fuck?!”
“I just–” you tried, “Has that happened before? Your problem. I’ve read that as men get older that happens sometimes.”
“I’m thirty-five, not fucking sixty. What the actual fuck?” He loudly dropped the plate down in front of you. “Eat your fucking food. I’m not talking about this.”
You sullenly started in on your food, it was pasta. You barely tasted it. You needed to keep talking about this, but doing it while he was angry probably wasn’t the best approach. 
He heated up the other plate and then joined you, taking a seat next to you at the island. You both ate in silence, until he finally said, “I just don’t think this is anything we need to rush into. We have plenty of time.”
You looked up at him. Of course, he wouldn’t think there was any rush. Of course, he didn’t have any personal stakes in you getting pregnant. Of course, he could forbid you from working but then deny you the one thing that would give you something to fucking do here. Something that would take a portion of your anxiety away. “We don’t actually,” you growled. “We have no idea how long it’s going to take me to get pregnant.”
“You keep saying that, but I just– I think rushing it would be a mistake. We have more time than you think and putting this off until we know each other better is a good idea.”
And suddenly, you saw red. Every single fucking thing was on his terms. His hometown, his family, his house, his things, his staff, his single car, his timetable. “And how are we supposed to do that, huh?” you yelled, standing up now. “When you’re gone before I wake up and you cross your fingers I’m in bed before you get home. If you even come home! When exactly is this getting to know each other supposed to happen?!”
“Hey!” he yelled, standing up as well. Lola ran upstairs at the sound of his stool scraping against the hardwood. “Calm the fuck down! What is the big fucking deal if we wait a few months rather than doing it right now?”
“Because the longer we wait the less time I’ll have to get pregnant! And the more likely it’ll be that it won’t happen and we’ll nullify the contract and our marriage will be dissolved. And you’ll be fucking fine! You’ll still be your grandfather’s and your mother’s heir. Nothing will happen to you. But I’ll be sent back to Joseph. I’ll have to accept a second arrangement with anyone who will take me. I’ll– I’ll–” You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. The room was getting smaller, pressing in on you, and you couldn’t breathe. 
You sank down to the floor and suddenly Ransom was in front of you. He called your name, but it was hard to process it. He called it again and you made eye contact with him. “You’re having a panic attack. You’re ok. You’re alright. I’m here.” He was speaking so quietly, so gently. “I’m here to help you, ok? I’m going to stay with you.” You nodded as best you could. “Can I touch you?” he asked, and you immediately shook your head. “Ok,” he said quickly, “that’s fine. That’s ok. I won’t touch you. You’re breathing too fast, ok? You need to slow down. Can you breathe with me? Come on, do it with me.” And then he breathed in slowly and you tried to match his rhythm. In and out, in and out, so slowly. At some point, he started counting. In 1 2 3 4 5. Out 1 2 3 4 5. Eventually, you could do it on your own, without him coaching you. 
You spent a few more minutes on the floor with him, you both just breathing at each other. Then finally you were able to find your words. “I’m ok,” you said. “I’m alright. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for,” he said, still so gentle. “Nothing at all. Can you get up?” You nodded and he helped you up. “Are you hungry?” he asked and you shook your head. “Ok, I’ll clean the food up later. Can I help you upstairs?” You nodded and he, very carefully, put his hand on your back, so slowly that you had all the time in the world to pull away. His touch was warm, soft. His touch was always so soft with you.
He guided you to the bedroom where Lola was already on the bed, shaking steadily and looking at you with big, fearful eyes. You climbed on and curled up next to her. “You’re ok,” you whispered to her. “I’m sorry we scared you.” She scooted so she was snuggled up right against you and you carded your fingers through her fur, scratching gently.
Ransom hovered at the foot of the bed. “Thank you,” you said quietly.
“Of course,” he said. “Has that happened before?”
You shook your head. “No, I don’t think so. How did you know how to help?”
“Oh, uh,” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, “I used to get them when I was a kid. I had a nanny who, uh, she was really good about them.”
You just nodded, feeling like you should tuck away that information. You knew so little about him, real things that hadn’t been in the binder. You wanted to file away everything you could.
“Are you– Will you be ok if I go take care of the food?”
You nodded again. “Yeah,” you said, softly. “I’ll be fine. Lola will take care of me. Won’t you, baby?” Lola flopped onto her back so that you could give her tummy scratches and you let out a soft giggle. You smiled up at Ransom, to reassure him. And he just sort of stopped. And stared at you. Your brow furrowed as you became self-conscious under his gaze and your smile started to drop. 
He suddenly shook himself out of whatever had been happening and nodded. “Yeah, ok. Yell if you need me,” and he darted out of the room. 
You weren’t sure exactly how long he was gone. You passed the time snuggling with Lola, taking comfort in her. You felt shaky and raw. And scared, still scared of everything that could happen, everything you’d yelled at Ransom about. And Ransom himself, how he would take to being yelled at like that, once he was done being worried. 
You heard his heavy footfalls at the top of the stairs and looked up as he came back into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and turned so you could see half his face. “I didn’t–” he started and stopped. Then, after another moment, “I didn’t realize you were so worried about all of this.”
“How would you?” you asked, your eyes cast down, locked on Lola as you continued to pet her. “You’re never here. We never talk.”
“I’ve been really busy,” he said, just a tinge of defensiveness in his tone. “Work’s been awful.” He paused, then repeated, “I’ve been really busy.”
“Sure,” you said.
Neither of you said anything for long minutes. You just kept petting Lola, your hand moving over her body rhythmically. 
Then finally, Ransom said lowly, “We can work on it. Getting pregnant. If that will make you feel better. Make things easier for you.”
“Can we?” you asked. “I don’t know if what happened– if that was something that happens to you a lot, or if,” you looked back down, “or if you just don’t want me.”
He moved his hand so that his fingertips grazed yours on the bed. “It’s not that. It wasn’t ever that, ok?” You couldn’t help the way your whole body heated, just a bit, at the implication. You looked up just as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “I just– You were clearly so scared. You wanted to be anywhere else, I could tell. You wouldn’t let me touch you, you wouldn’t even look at me. I can’t do it like that. I just can’t.” He opened his eyes and looked right at you. “I just can’t.”
“Oh,” you said quietly. “That’s– I’m sorry, I–”
He shook his head. “No, that’s not– I just thought you should know.”
You sat quietly together for a few moments. Then you took a deep breath and said, “I think we should try again.”
He gave you a surprised look. “Now?” You nodded resolutely but he shook his head back at you. “You’re still coming down from your panic attack. This can wait til tomorrow.”
In the aftermath of your anxiety, the anger you’d felt had mostly faded away, but now it bubbled back up again. You were so tired of him dictating how everything would go. “No,” you said firmly. “I don’t want to put it off anymore. I’m fine now. This will make things better.”
He just looked at you, searching your face for something. You tried to show him how calm you were now, how sure. Finally, he let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he said. Then he got off the bed and started taking off his clothes. You scrambled up onto your knees to take your top off, gently coaxing Lola off the bed. She looked up at you, waiting for you to join her, but Ransom, now clad only in his boxers, picked her up, gently you noted, and deposited her in the hallway, shutting the door behind her. He looked at you as you continued to strip down to just your bra and panties, his eyes running over your body, and for the first time, you felt it. Maybe he did want you.
He climbed back on the bed. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. You froze for just a second, then nodded. He slowly brought his mouth to yours and caressed your lips with his own. His lips were soft and warm. The kiss was hesitant on both sides, not exactly passionate, but not chaste either. Nowhere near the worst you’d ever had. A quiet arousal began to pool in your core. Not need, not exactly. But it would be enough, you thought. You broke the kiss and laid down on your back. “I’m not trying to shut you out,” you said, trying to keep your tone kind, “but it’ll be faster, I think, if we both just get ourselves ready.” You started the same as last time, one hand on your breast, the other slowly traveling down your body to play with the hem of your panties. “But you can watch,” you added. “If that’s something you like.” 
He cleared his throat and nodded. Then he reached over and lightly grabbed your underwear with both hands. “Is this ok?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to push down your nerves. Everything was ok, this was what needed to happen. You were fine. You were ok.
He pulled your panties down your legs, then tossed them on top of his own clothes. You closed your eyes to focus again on your goto fantasy. The man standing over you. His voice in your ear. And again, you heard the sounds of Ransom getting himself ready. The snick of him opening the bottle of lube. The wet sounds of his hand working over his cock. This time you didn’t let it bother you. This time, you willed yourself not to flinch when you felt his hand on your leg. You had two fingers in your cunt and you worked yourself open, your thumb rubbing over your clit. Once you were wet enough, stretched enough, you opened your eyes and sat up. Ransom was staring at you, one hand on his hard cock, kneeling in front of you. 
“Ok,” you said, “I think I’m ready.” He started to move forward, but you stopped him with a hand on his bare chest. “Can I be on top?” you asked. “Is that ok?”
He looked down at where you were touching him and then back up at your face. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Yeah.”
You switched places as he laid down and you moved over him, straddling his pelvis and then carefully lowering yourself onto his cock. You tried not to grimace as he stretched you. He grunted again, as you slowly took more and more of him. Both of his hands came up to grasp your hips as you began to ride him, slowly at first, then picking up your pace. He was staring at your body and it was– it was a lot. Too much. You closed your eyes against it, hoping you just looked like you were into it. As he got closer, he started to buck up into you. You couldn't help but gasp at it. One of his hands moved from your hip to rub circles with his thumb over your clit, the rest of his hand splayed over your pelvis. You breathed through it, trying to let go enough to let yourself come, but you could tell that wasn’t going to happen. That was ok. That didn’t need to happen. Only one of you needed to come tonight.
He continued to buck up into you, his movements becoming more erratic. You balanced yourself with your hands on his shoulders. “Can I–” he grunted. “I’m gonna– Can I move you?”
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah.”
He sat up and tucked you into him, rolling you both over so that you were now on your back and he was on top of you. He thrust back into you, once, twice, three times, and then he was coming, filling you up. His whole body stuttered over you and then collapsed on top of you. He breathed into your neck for countless moments and you didn’t know why, but you brought your hand up to gently stroke at the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Do you need me to–” he started to ask.
“No,” you said, knowing he was offering to help you finish. “I’m fine. Good. I’m good.”
You felt him nod, just a little, but he didn’t say anything else. It was so quiet, just the sounds of him catching his breath. Then he placed a soft kiss where your neck met your shoulder and lifted himself up and off you. You whimpered, just a little, as he pulled out. 
You quickly lifted your hips up to keep his cum inside of you. You reached blindly next to your head until you found a pillow that you shoved under your lower back to keep your pelvis canted up. Ransom moved around the room, picking his underwear off the floor, and then into the bathroom. A few minutes later he came back out with a washcloth. He moved it towards your cunt and you shot a hand out. “No! Wait.”
“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s ok. Just for your thighs. I know. I understand.” He gently moved the warm washcloth over your legs. “Are you alright?” He asked, not quite meeting your eyes. “Was that ok?”
“Yeah,” you said, moving your hand to brush along his forearm. “I’m alright. That was good.”
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You lay in bed as Ransom lightly snored on his stomach next to you, Lola curled up between you. You couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for about an hour, probably. You sat up. It was no use. Your mind was too busy. Sleep wasn’t going to come.
You grabbed your phone and got out of bed, moving downstairs to the living room as quietly as you could. You curled up on the couch and hugged your knees. You weren’t sure how you felt. It had been fine. Parts of it had even been good, maybe. It’d just, it’d been a long night. You’d gone through so many feelings, and now– Now, you just felt a little empty.
You looked at your phone. It was just before midnight. That meant it’d be a little before nine in LA. Steve hopefully wouldn’t still be working, but he wouldn’t be asleep yet either. He might be out, or painting, or busy some other way, but. It was worth a shot. 
It only rang once. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Steve gasped. “Work has been a fucking nightmare, but that’s no excuse. I was going to try to call you tomorrow, but I’m so, so glad you called me now. How are you? Are you ok?”
The tears had started as soon as you heard your brother’s voice. “Steve,” was all you could get out before you were full-on crying.
“Oh, chipmunk, no. What’s wrong?”
You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get yourself together. You finally had your brother on the phone. You weren’t going to waste the whole conversation crying. “Nothing,” you managed. “I’m ok, I just– I’m just so happy to talk to you.”
“Yeah,” Steve said, and you thought that maybe his voice sounded a little thick too. “Me too. I’m so happy to talk to you. I’m so sorry it’s been so long. How are you doing? Your messages, you sounded– Are you ok?”
You sniffled as you tried to nod and then realized he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m good. It’s just a little lonely here. I miss you so much.”
“I miss you too. Everything’s so different here without you. Shit, it’s late there. What are you doing up?”
You shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep. It’s been a long day.”
Steve hummed and there was a tone to it you couldn’t quite decipher. “Is Ransom there?”
“Yeah, he’s asleep upstairs.”
“And how is he?” Steve’s tone was decidedly cold now.
“He’s fine,” you said, ignoring it. “His work’s been really busy too.”
“And how’s he been to you?” he asked and you definitely didn’t miss the challenge there.
“He’s been fine, Steve,” you said and you weren’t sure whether or not it was a lie. “Everything’s fine.” You’d already decided you weren’t going to tell him about the job thing. That wouldn’t do anything but upset him. Get him on a plane here, maybe, so he could try throwing his weight around. You rolled your eyes. It was better this way. “I’ve just been unpacking mostly. Nothing too exciting. What about you? What’s going on with you? I want to hear everything.”
“You’re sure it’s not too late there?”
“No, not at all. I’m wide awake. And nothing much to get up for in the morning anyway. But if you’re busy or need to go to bed or something, you can go whenever you need to.”
“Not a chance. I wanna talk to you as long as I can,” Steve said. And you knew he couldn’t see it, but you grinned into the phone anyway.
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asterias-record-shop · 10 months
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BINGOO! Can you please write a Miguel O’Hara sugar daddy story with prompt 15? I’m not creative enough to write a description for this but could you add a mention of the age gap? Miguel is Like 30 or something. Reader is young and wants money ofc. They met online and are meeting up irl. Thank youu
—𓆩[mi menté, cuerpo, corazón, y alma]𓆪—
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I am so sorry anón honey, I got completely carried away!! I hope you enjoy it though!
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Modern AU! CEO! Sugar Daddy! Soft! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Baby! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, angst
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.1K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You loved being a sugar baby. Truly, you did. The only con was the fact that you had to get with someone who was literally a hair away from dying, so when Miguel found you, it was truly a saving grace. After a while, he made you cut off all of your other sugar daddies, easily matching what they give you and more. Things have gotten weird lately, though… and you’re not sure how to take it, even when he says everything is ‘strictly pleasure’.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and foul language || obsessive behavior || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship || possessive! Miguel || his wife and daughter do not exist anymore 🤍 like at all || Latina coded reader || featuring Jessica Drew as another CEO because we love her (spider-verse variant) || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship turned real relationship || i speak rancho spanish so i write rancho spanish, it ain’t google translate so it might not make sense- || miguel is lowkey an asshole so he is an asshole now || fighting || you make him fix himself || i’m ngl, i don’t know what the hell i did but i had fun and there’s smut so enjoy || this is so much more kinky than it initially was going to be- || kinda OOC Miguel || sub turned dom! reader || sub! Miguel || sounding || cbt || slight oral || praise & degradation || riding || non-protected sex || cumming inside || ending is supposed to be humorous I’m not weird ||
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Finding a sugar daddy that wasn’t quadruple your age was hard. Very, very hard. What was wrong with men? Couldn’t they just become billionaires at twenty-five?
Bastards.
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Oh, but then Miguel O’Hara came along. A man in his early thirties that absolutely towered over you at 6’9”, built like a fucking god with looks to match and wealth to pair.
In the beginning, though, you had your doubts, so many doubts. You didn’t know what made him drawn to you in the first place, mainly because you had over five sugar daddies and he easily matched the prices immediately and made you get rid of them. He easily matched all your prices, doing even more before purchasing a test to make sure you were ‘healthy’.
After that, everything else happened extremely quickly - him buying you a car, jewelry and clothes, but the most recent was having you move in with him in his extremely large mansion. The first thing you noticed was that he had nothing in his home that gave it personality. No pictures, just crazy expensive art and photographs of things that were also crazy expensive.
He didn’t even have plants. Or a dog. Or a cat, something to give him some sort of personality besides that stupidly hot face. And stupidly hot money, but that’s why he was at work while you were at a shelter, promising yourself that you’d take some sort of pet home. You had settled on a kitten, a tuxedo kitten with a little bow tie and a mustache, along with small little mittens on his paws.
He immediately curled in your lap, a giggle falling from your lips as you stroked the back of his head. “I’ll take this one… I’m gonna name him Hart.”
And with that, you took him home. You bought him his own bed and all of the toys he could ever want or need, and you sat in the closet you had made his room as you wagged the cat toy in front of him, Jessica on the phone.
“Y/N, I really think you’re going to kill him bringing that cat into his house!” She laughed, snacking on her latest craving.
“Oh, he won’t! You’re being overdramatic, he’s gonna love Hart,” you wiggle the stick some more, the kitten swatting at it as you heard Miguel’s loud voice yell out for you. “Oh! He’s here, I’ll call you later Jess! Love you!”
“Don’t get killed!”
You giggled as you hung up and quickly stood, running out and fixing your skirt. “Miguel!”
He was tired today, you could tell. His body was more tense than you had ever seen, the buttons at the top of his shirt undone and his tie loose with his blazer open. You paused, his clenched fists making you swallow slightly. You had your share of violent lovers, and you sure as hell weren’t going to have another.
“Hola, mi reina,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he set down his briefcase and his fists unclenched. He softly set his hand on your hip, kissing softly against your temple as he sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day.”
You inhaled as he softly pressed kisses down your temple around your eye, along the apple of your cheek. “Wh-What happened?”
He shook his head, his hands going from your hips to the pretty skin of your thighs that was exposed by the skirt. “Stupid idiots who don’t know how to fucking do their job.”
You hummed softly as you stroked the back of his head, twirling the locks of his hair with your fingers as you kissed his sharp jaw. You were already on your tiptoes, his hands supporting you as he ducked down. “I’m so sorry, Miguel,” you whispered as he let out a soft hum. “I uhm… I got something.”
“Ah si?” he responded, his hands slipping under your skirt to tease your pretty cunt. “Es esto, mi reina?”
“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Lemme show you.”
He smiled as you dragged him along, pulling him toward the closet you turned into the kitten’s room before turning around. “You can’t get mad.”
He started to cross his arms, raising a brow. “Why would I get mad?”
“You won’t be mad because you can’t. That’s my whole point,” you say, nodding firmly. “Okay?”
“You can’t say I can’t get mad and expect me not to get mad.”
“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, shaking your head as he hummed softly and leaned down. “Just… trust me.”
He hummed again as you opened the door, the loud mews of the kitten making his eyes widen. You felt your smile disappear as you inhaled, shaking your head as you turned around. “This is Hart! He’s a little spy,” you giggled, kissing the kitten’s small head. “H-He was named after-”
“I know who he’s named after, Y/N,” Miguel growled, glaring at the kitten in your hand. “Why is it in my house?”
“Our house,” you correct him, a scoff falling from his lips. “What?”
“My house,” he basically growled, stepping forward as you started to step back. “Just because I fuck you like a ragdoll and cum inside of you like a cumdump doesn’t mean that this is your house.”
You inhaled as you held the kitten closer to your chest, scoffing. “You’re a fucking bastard, Miguel O’Hara. This is strictly business as always, isn’t it? You fucking asshole.”
He scoffed as you went around him, shaking his head. “This is mine, Y/N! All of it!”
“It might be yours, Miguel, but you don’t want it! You keep this giant house full of nothing that you love, nothing that you care for! You don’t even have a damn plant here!” You yelled at him, inhaling as you sent him a glare. “You’re a self absorbed bastard, Miguel.”
“I have you here,” Miguel spoke, something that completely betrayed his previous words. “You’re… all I could ever need.”
“You don’t need me though. The only thing that you fucking need is a damn whore,” you shake your head, keeping Hart close to your chest. “I will get myself a lawyer to get myself out of this contract, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”
“Y/N, wait-”
“No! Fuck you!” You were already rushing to your room - which was sadly one you shared with Miguel - locking it before he could come in after you.
“Y/N, amor… mi amor, I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not!” You yelled, sighing. How could you ever think this would go any other way? “Just… go away!”
To be honest, you weren’t sure what made you think you could love him. Actually love him and have it reciprocated, but you didn’t want to leave. You had worked so hard in this relationship with Miguel, gaining his trust and what you thought was his love, for fucks sake you couldn’t lose it now. What he said just… got to you.
It wasn’t until you heard a soft knock that you unlocked the door, Miguel slowly stepping into the room. “What do you want?”
“I just… look at this,” he gave you the binder, swallowing. “If you uhm… look at it, it annuls our last contract… if you sign it, mi amor-”
“What, are you gonna try and bribe me?” I ask, softly scratching Hart’s ear before he gives you the binder.
“Perdóname, amor,” he whispers, slowly falling to his knees in front of you. You certainly weren’t expecting this. “Read it.”
“Summarize it for me.”
“It says that you own me,” he says, tilting his head. “Everything I own, you own. Everything I am is yours,” he takes your hand, softly kissing against your wrist. “I’m sorry… that it took me so long to see how important you are to me. Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, y alma.”
You swallow as you stare at the dotted line, looking down at him as he kisses your skin. “Tu cuerpo? Es mío?”
He groaned as your hand shapes his jaw, softly tugging on his hair as Hart jumped down, sauntering out of the room as though he knew what was about to happen. “Todo es tuyo, mi amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his hair so he’d stare up at you. “Todo lo que quieras, es tuyo. Nomás me digas y es tuyo. Todo, todo es tuyo.”
You hummed, sighing as you moved your hips to come off the bed slightly. “Show me. Show me that you belong to me and I’ll sign it.”
He hummed, sending you a smile as he started to kiss against your wrist. “Of course, mi reina.”
You smile slightly as he starts to tug off his shirt, carefully unbuttoning and kissing along your calf before slipping off your heels. “If this keeps going, Miguel, you need to know that I’m not putting up with your bullshit.”
“Ya se, mi reina,” he whispers, his tongue flattening up your thigh as he pulls down your skirt. “I’m aware.”
“I’m going to sign that shit in your cum.”
He laughed, nodding. “If that’s what you want to do, mi amor.”
You tilted your head down at him, raising a brow. “That raises no red flags?”
“No, they’re actually green.”
You hold back a laugh as he slowly stands up, already taking off his clothes before you put up a finger. “I’m in charge, right?”
“Yes,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What would you like me to do, hm?”
“Get on the bed,” you say, standing and slipping off your clothes. “Why are you just standing there? Go.”
Miguel smirked slightly, but followed your orders, his bare body looking perfect against the bed. “Well, what do you want me to do next, mi amor?”
You hummed, staring for another few minutes. “Get hard. I’ll be back.”
You go into your closet, but after hearing Miguel’s moans, you knew he listened to what you said. It wasn’t until you went into your drawer filled with sex toys did you know what you wanted to do - oh, you were going to make him sob. You grabbed the small silver toy you had never had the chance to use on him, biting your lip as you finished taking off the rest of your clothes and fixing your bra and underwear.
It was normal to makeup with Miguel with sex, then talk about what happened and why it should never happen again before you fell asleep, resulting in Miguel waking you up with breakfast in bed and another lavish apology gift.
When you walked out, you smiled when you saw Miguel bucking his hips into his hand, his thick cock dribbling precum out of his bright red tip. “Look how pretty your cock is, baby… so, so pretty.”
He lets out a dry laugh, groaning. “Oh yeah? Que vas hacer?”
You giggled, slowly sliding between his legs and taking out the metal sounding rod. “Voy a jugar con lo que es mío.”
He lets out a choked moan as the cold tip of the rod dragged in a circle along the tip of his cock, already lubed up so you wouldn’t hurt him, a giggle escaping your lips as you slowly pushed it into his cock. He lets out a choked moan as you laugh, watching as it slowly disappears inside of his cock.
“Hijo de su pinche madre,” he cursed, groaning as he bucked his hips, stomach clenching as you watched his body slowly fall to your mercy. “Amor, please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you.”
“Cállate,” you ordered, giggling as you pushed it inside until the ring was showing, your mouth latching onto his balls and sucking softly. “Come on, be a good boy and fuck it.”
He cursed as he starts to roll his hips, following the sounding rod as he groaned loudly. One of your hands rubs along his thighs, giggling as you stared up at his face all scrunched and desperate. He really did make a good sub.
“Come on, don’t stop now, Miguel, you’re doing so good,” you move away from his balls but continue to cup them, moving so that his fat cock was settled on his abdomen and you rubbed your now bare pussy against his shaft. “Come on baby, I know you want to cum. As soon as you cum, I’ll put your cock in me and I’ll let you fuck me.”
He groaned loudly, almost growl-like sounds falling from his lips as he forced his hips to go faster, fucking into the sounding rod as he rubbed against your wet cunt. You couldn’t hold back your own moans, the friction of his cock perfect against your cunt and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.
“Amor, please, please!” He was begging to cum, even if he didn’t quite know it yet, a groan falling from your lips as you continued to squeeze and rub his balls. He had never been this quick to cum, and you knew you’d have to try this again soon. “I’m close, chingao, I’m close.”
You let out a laugh as you watch the sounding rod start to be pushed out, pushing it back in as he whined. “Not yet, amor mío.”
“Por favor, mi vida, necesito- fuck!” He screamed out as you continued to hump against his length, pushing and pulling the rod in and out of his cock.
“Say it again. That you’re mine.”
“Fuck, I’m yours! Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, corazón, y alma, ¡chingada madre!” He yelled out as you finally let go of the sounding rod, watching it pop out of his cock and a perfect, pornographic cumshot follow. You moved your hand from his balls, lifting your hips as you continued to pump his shaft. You watched as the pearlescent liquid spurts onto his toned abdomen, smiling before cupping your hand in front of his tip and gathering his cum.
He panted, watching as you slowly smeared it along your cunt and placed the sounding rod onto the nightstand. “Next time we need to go bigger.”
“Whatever you say, amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his cock to push into your cunt, another loud groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“I know,” you spoke, laughing slightly as you gasped. No matter how many times his cock was inside of you, you never got used to it. “Fuck, Miguel, It’s like you get bigger every time.”
“Maybe I do,” he smirked, offering that playful wording as you finally sat on his pelvis, groaning loudly. “Look at how perfect you look with my cock inside of you, mi reina. Fucking perfect.”
You whimpered, groaning as you started to roll your hips, his cock feeling as though it was deeper than it ever was. “N-No, no.”
He smirked, tilting his head. “No what, amor? Tell me.”
“Stop that,” you order, knowing damn well if he kept talking like that you’d soon be on your back begging for him to fuck you. That’s now how it was going to happen, not today. “I’m in charge. Not you.”
“I never said you weren’t, amor-”
You leaned forward, pressing your lips firmly to his as he held your hips, helping you rock onto his cock. “Stop talking.”
He laughs as his other hand pulled you in for another firm kiss, your hands searching for the contract before his hips slam up into you. You pulled away, gasping as he lets out a loud groan, cursing. “Thought you needed some help, mi amor.”
Your hands claw against his shoulders as he keeps your chest pressed to his, using his strength to easily thrust up into you. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even let you have this, but you weren’t complaining as he grunted underneath you and you felt his cock rub against every place you ever wanted him to be. He repeatedly thrusted into you at that perfect rate to hit that spot inside of you that just made your body go limp, stomach twisting and turning.
One of the pros of having a man who knew your body like the back of his hand was that you could always count on him making you cum.
You gasped as his cock finally thrusted against that perfect spot that easily made you come undone, mind blurring as you basically see stars right as your nails dig into his skin. Your cunt clenched and squeezed his cock as a result of your orgasm, a hissed groan falling from his lips as he thrusted a few more times and finally came inside of you.
Your eyes rolled back, the added feeling of his cum spurting inside of you, filling you up as your inner thighs started to register slight heat from the power of his thrusts. You panted as you started to sit up, Miguel letting out a slight laugh before you grabbed the sounding rod and the contract.
“Q-Qué estás haciendo?”
You looked up at him, giggling as you dipped the rod into his cum. “I said I was going to sign it with your cum.”
“Mierda, Y/N, don’t do that!”
“What?! You think I was joking?! I said it was a red flag!”
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© asterias-record-shop
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aestheticaltcow · 4 months
Text
Family Ties
I love that the fandom sees Carmy as a girl dad who practices gentle parenting. Gentle parenting is a great parenting style, don't get me wrong. Personally, I can see him butting heads with his teenage daughter like he wants her to express herself- but he also knows that teenage boys are weird and would want to protect her at all costs. This was just a thought I had a couple of days ago, and once I started, I couldn't stop. More Dad!Carmy content to come...
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A/N: I didn't realize until I copy pasted this from my Google Drive. This was 6 freakin pages. I like longer fics, I'm sorry.
Carmy was furious. It took a lot of effort for him to ‘gentle parent’ with you when the kids, Grace and Oliver, were little. Now that both kids are in high school, he wishes he had been harder on them. You reassure him that the two of you have great kids, both work hard in school, participate in extracurricular activities, and aren’t afraid to talk to them about anything - he insisted he should have been harder on them, especially when he gets calls from the school about Oliver getting suspended… again. 
Oliver was 15, and Carmy was convinced he was Mikey's reincarnation. Like you had, he did well in school, but he was Mikey in every other aspect of life. He just needed to get his head out of his ass before out-of-school suspension became stints in jail. 
As Carmy walked down the hall to the principal’s office, he saw Oliver sitting on a bench talking to Grace- Grace, his little girl, granted she wasn’t as little anymore. She’s 17 and looked exactly like you when you were her age- except she had gotten his eyes. “Oliver.” Carmy barked, getting his attention. 
Grace looked at her brother nervously. Carmy wasn’t the kind of Dad to ‘approve’ of her clothing, but he’d fight her on it occasionally, especially regarding crop tops and dresses. It came from a place of caring and not wanting his little girl to get hurt, but Carmy could take it too far.
 Carmy noticed Grace turning the opposite way to get away from the Berzatto boys,
“Grace? Shouldn’t you be in class or somethin’?” Carmy questioned; she stopped in her tracks, knowing Carmy wasn’t in the best mood. She turned around and hoped he was too mad, Oliver, to notice the cropped corset she’d worn to school that day. It’s not like she’d worn it to get a guy to notice her; she’d just liked the contrast of its light green color with her baggy jeans, and she was supposed to match outfits with the rest of the dance team that day so he couldn’t be mad at it- especially since he’d encouraged her to join the dance team freshman year. “Someone texted me that Oli was out here- just wanted to make sure no one beat my baby brother’s ass.” she laughed. Carmy shot her his classic ‘I’m your father, I know when you’re lying look’ but shook his head; he was not ready to deal with that. “Put on a sweater.” Grace nodded at Carmy’s casual dislike of her top, “Yes, sir.”
Initially, Carmy was going to let it slide. He knew Grace was 17, she was going to college next year, and he wouldn’t be able to encourage her to make the right decision anymore, but while she was under his roof, she’d live by his rules. You laughed when he brought it up to you that night in bed. “Carmy, she’s a good kid. Gracie has good grades. She has good friends. She works; if she wants to wear a crop top, she can wear a crop top.” Carmy sighed. He saw the point you’d been trying to make with that explanation but wasn’t happy.
Grace hoped Carmy wouldn’t bring up her wardrobe, but unfortunately, she was wrong. Carmy had hired an older brother of one of Grace’s friends at The Bear- that’s how he’d found out about Grace’s non-family Instagram account. She hadn’t posted anything too scandalous; there were some pictures from parties where she was holding a red Solo cup, a few from a dance competition after-party where she’d been wearing something Carmy wouldn’t have allowed her to leave the house in, and of course the soft launch of her relationship. He was seething; you hadn’t known about the account either- you’d heard Grace talk to her cousins about a boy she liked, but the drinking and parties also surprised you. 
“Carmy, you neeeeed to be careful with how you speak to Grace about this,” you emphasized through the phone. Of course, this would come up when you were out of town. “Baby, I’ll handle it.” “Carmen Anthony Berzatto. Do not, I repeat, do not shame our daughter. You can tell her you’re unhappy-” “I’ll handle it.” he hung up, and you knew you’d be walking into a shit storm when you returned home.
“Fuck off, Dad!” Grace screamed as she slammed her bedroom door. To say Carmy mishandled the situation would be an understatement; he stood outside Grace’s door, immediately regretting what he’d said about Grace. He questioned her character; he knew she was a good kid; he wanted to knock on her door and apologize, but Grace didn’t want to hear it.
Oliver sat in his bedroom and heard Carmy and Grace yell at each other throughout the weekend. He laughed when he realized Carmy double-downed on what he’d initially said about Grace ‘not being that kind of girl.’ and how people would ‘never take her seriously’ when he dropped the word ‘whore’ he knew there would be hell when you came home. The front door slammed, and he heard Carmy yell ‘fuck’ and slam a door. He looked out his bedroom window to see Grace running up the street. Oliver sighed and fished his phone out of his pocket; “Oli fuck off.” Grace huffed before immediately hanging up on him. He rolled his eyes and dialed your number. “Hi baby, everything okay?” “Nope.”
The house was antagonistic. Carmy was pissed at himself, you and Grace were also pissed at him, and Oliver managed to sink into the background. The family dinners you’d shared were typically full of conversation and life, but tonight was awkwardly silent. Oliver decided he’d take a crack at making it better, “Uncle Richie got to 100 Instagram followers. He’s pretty excited about it.” no one took the bait. He poked at the chicken on his plate, “Good dinner, am I right?” he grinned, looking around the table. Grace rolled her eyes and stood up from the table, “Grace?” you called after her. She ignored your question and went upstairs. “Well, I think it’s a good dinner- conversation wasn’t the best, but… we’ll get through it.” Oliver tried to lighten the tension in the room, but he inevitably failed, and Carmy told him to go to his room. Oliver obliged, taking his and Grace’s plates to the sink before shuffling upstairs. He walked past Grace’s room on the way. He paused and stood before the door; it was too quiet. He knocked softly before opening the door; she was gone.
“I just don’t know what to say to him. I’m pissed.” Grace vented as she lay beside Eva in the park by her apartment, “My dad was the same way, except he threw my clothes away. My mom ripped him a new one over it.” “Should I accept his apology and move out as soon as possible?” Eva shook her head and laughed at the suggestion. “Gracie, you know what you need to do.” Grace sighed, knowing her cousin was right. She sat up and pushed her hair back. “I’m gonna hide out at Danny’s house. Cover for me?” “Of course. Don’t get pregnant.” 
“Gracie girl? Can I come in, honey?” you asked outside her door, but there was no response. “Baby, please?” you asked again. “She’s not home,” Oliver said, walking past you to the bathroom. “What do you mean she’s not home?” he shrugged. “I guess she snuck out after dinner.”. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration before walking into your and Carmy’s bedroom, “You have to fix this, Carmen.” you scolded in your best mom voice he’d heard a thousand times, granted it was typically directed at one of the kids. “Baby, how can-” “Carmen. If you ever want to be inside me again, you’ll fix this.” Carmy leaned back against the headboard; he didn’t think something like this could be fixed. 
“Oh, hi, Grace.” Danny’s mom greeted her when she realized she was sitting on the couch with Danny. “Hi, Mrs. De Luca.” she smiled back, “How are you, sweetheart?” Grace shrugged at the question, “Been better.” “Oh, I’m sorry, Grace,” she frowned before turning her attention to her son “Danny. I need you to take Annie to school tomorrow morning, okay? I’m doin’ an overnight.” Danny nodded in acknowledgment. She smiled again and quickly ran out of the house, leaving Danny and Grace in the living room and Danny’s sister Annie upstairs, tucked into bed. 
“So. What’s goin on with you?” Danny finally asked. He wasn’t mad that she’d come over unannounced, but it was obvious that Grace had been crying. Grace shrugged at the question, “Guess I just wanted to see you.” Danny scoffed. “Grace. Com’ on. You only come over on weeknights when you’re upset.” “Do not.” Grace challenged, leaning into his side. “I will tickle it out of you, baby. You should just tell me what’s up.” he insisted, sitting up slightly. Grace groaned and sat up, bringing her knees to her chest. She told him that she and Carmy were fighting about her ‘secret online life that everyone can see’ and how ‘she’s not that kind of girl,’ so why was she pretending to be? She was hesitant to include the part where Carmy had called her a whore, but as she looked at Danny’s sympathetic face, she couldn’t hold back. “The house is awkward- Oli tried to make a joke out of it, but it was just so fuckin’ annoying. I’m just disappointed in myself… he’s never mad at me, Danny.” Danny nodded. “I get that. What me to beat him up for callin’ you a whore? You know I will.” Grace rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Carmy sat outside on the porch smoking when he saw headlights coming in his direction; it was almost 2 in the morning. He sighed and took a final puff before ashing his cigarette. He assumed it was Grace, and he was correct. He heard her say her goodbyes to whoever dropped her off and waited for her to come up the driveway. “Hi, Grace.” he greeted, his lips pulling into a tight line due to their growing awkwardness. “Dad,” she responded, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Where were you?” “With Eva.” Carmy nodded. “Can I talk to you?” Grace shrugged and moved closer to Carmy. “I want to apologize, Gracie. I shouldn’t have said that about you. You have a good head on those shoulders- but I don’t want you to get hurt. Girls who posted stuff like that online when I was 17… you know what happened. Rumors and shit- I just don’t want people doin' that to you.” he explained, scratching at the back of his neck. Grace nodded, taking in what he’d said. “I understand, but I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad. I can handle myself; if I can’t, Danny has my back.” Carmy nodded, “We good?” he asked, looking down at Grace. He smiled when he saw her pulling her sleeves over her hands like when she was a little girl and felt uneasy. “We’re good.” Grace agreed. Carmy brought her into a lazy hug and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, always.” Grace smiled and hugged Carmy back, “I love you too, Dad.”
As the two went inside, Carmy remembered something she’d said, “Who’s Danny?” Grace stopped and looked up at Carmy cautiously. “Uh… he’s my- my boyfriend…”
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uh-oh-its-bird · 1 month
Text
There are so many naruto time travel fics out there but what I need SPECIFICALLY is an ANBU era team of Kakashi, Tenzo, Itachi, and Shisui getting flung into the founders era.
Like. Ok just looking from the political side of it that's;
A) 2 very young and VERY powerful Uchiha's (one of which is the future clan head!! Politics!!)
B) A very fucked up baby mokuton user who's still in the middle of being deprogrammed and can totally pass for Senju
C) The free wild card that is Hatake clan lore on top of having a stolen sharingan. On top of *that* him being the team leader of a team of kids who, in the time period context, should both be at eachothers throats and probably not be expected to obey the commands of someone not only from another clan but a way smaller one
Theres SO much potential there!! So many political implications in virtually ALL of the directions!!!!
Yk what as I'm typing this out I'm having ✨️ideas✨️ so let's make some story points to sort those out:
• I think itd be neat to have this happen like. A year? Ish? Before the massacre? So age wise, and full disclaimer I'm referencing Google and Wikipedia rn so I could totally be wrong, I think that's :
Kakashi (18)
Tenzo (17)
Itachi (12)
Shisui (15)
Could be wrong about the ages but honestly it's my world you're just living in it, so.
Then me going totally purely off of my own headcannons, were going to say they came in a about a year before Izuna died and place the founders ages as:
Madara (23)
Hashirama (23)
Izuna (19)
Tobirama (18)
Big fan of Tobirama being the youngest between the 4 but projecting the aura of someone as old as like. Idk, however old Madara is. Very funny to me, 10/10
• I'm personally a big fan of dogteeth kakashi so we're running with that all the way home. Also a huge fan of the "Hatake's are a distant, more feral cousin of Inuzuka clan" hc along with some sprinklings of "back in the day they had a bit of a Reputation(tm) for being a 'lill wild, and everyone generally tries to avoid them. Which isn't too much of a problem because theyre a very small out of the way clan from Iron, they just have a big reputation in contrast to their size.
In more modern times tho, along with (obviously) having dwindled down to a single depressed teenager, they've become a lot tamer over the years due to village life. Kakashi is a Hatake, 100%, but he is NOT up to the standards of this time. Which becomes a bit funny when people see him, go "oh FUCK it's a Hatake" and then start edging slowly towards the door like he's about to rip their throat out with his teeth. Meanwhile he's standing there like 🧍‍♂️"am I that ugly."
Give me a scene where, finally used to this reaction to him from the general shinobi population, the team starts to use it to their advantage.
"Give us the scroll or we'll let the Hatake off the leash to have his fun with you. He's been awfully hungry latley you know, hasn't had fresh meat in days"
Kakashi, feeling kind of stupid, gave his best growl.
It caused an almost immediate, embaressed flush to rise to his face, but he didn't let up. It sounded more like an almost pathetic puppy growl than anything to his ears, but apparently it was enough to convince the trembling enemy nin because he slowly lifted the scroll up in offering.
Wow. Now he couldn't tell if he was embaressed for himself or for this guy.
Probably both to be honest.
• So like. Itachi is the clan heir. That's big. That's important. Let's do something with that.
First off, I had a great time reading this one fic (tho I don't even remember what the fic itself was about now, oops) where a plot point of it was how Sasuke is just a walking stereotype of main house Uchiha. Like people look at him and they don't just go "oh that's an Uchiha." They go "oh fuck that's an UCHIHA Uchiha." He's so fucking painfully, obviously related to the very tippy top of the clan that anyone not blind can tell. It's in the way he looks, it's in the way he talks and treats those around him, it's in the way he fucking holds himself. You look at him and every other stereotype about the Uchiha clan is there in big, bold letters. (On top of that he's also a dead wringer for Izuna, which I'm such a sucker for and desperatley wish people would do more with)
So like let's give that to Itachi here because it's so fun for several reasons.
First off; Sasuke in this is like. Straight up a doppelganger of Izuna, just a few generations apart. They could be twins. Itachi, as I'm sure you are aware, is Sasuke's big brother. So let's take some liberties and say that Itachi could absoloutley pass as a blood sibling to Izuna and Madara.
He is however 12, so we're also going to say that the only people who get to make this connection is anyone who's seen the siblings when they were also at a similar age.
On top of that however he has the 'walking amalgamation of all the stereotypes of the main Uchiha house' so anyone who isn't blind will look at him and assume he's somewhere in the sphere of 'important main house person' tho who really knows how distant the relation may be exactly. No one !! That's who !!!
Second; He's the fucking clan heir!! What the fuck!! This bit would have the most impact after all the messy time travel reveals when things have settled down a bit, so it'll sit in the back pocket for a bit. Save it for some fun shaking up later down the line so we don't run out of all the fun reveals too fast and bore the readers, yk?
When it is brought up tho it'd be fun to maybe have some fucky Itachi and Madara mutual understandings of the way things work.
• So. Madara is like a bit of a scary bed time story to Uchiha children, right? Like. "Ooo make sure you don't get too obsessive or fall too deep into your grief and always stay loyal to the village or you'll end up just like Madara!!"
Something something Uchiha-Village relationships are tense as hell, something something Madara fucking over a lot of the clan with his whole. Everything., Something something scapegoat and old stories, something something 'people have probably been talking a lot more about how "god dammit this all started with Madara" in recent years.'
Now with that in mind let's take a look of what our time travelers think of Madara:
Itachi is a good Konoha soldier. Itachi (as has been very much fucking proven) would rather beat a possible problem before it even exists with a hammer till it dies an ugly bloody death than even RISK it blossoming into a proper problem. Itachi does not like Madara. Itachi personally, quietly thinks they should maybe wait till the village is formed then carefully arrange a little accident for him before he goes off the rails. He, even more quietly, maybe even thinks it would be a kindness. Allow him to be remembered well by the village instead of scorned.
Shisui I think is cautiously optimistic about him. He's the kind of guy who gives the benefit of the doubt, who weighs the options, risk and reward, but includes things like hope and compassion in his calculations. Yes, Madara was a uhh. Thing. That happened. But in every story his big blow up always come from one specific event; Izuna's death. So if they stop that from happening, wouldn't it secure both a better future for them and Madara? The history books never went into detail about Izuna, he doesn't know what he's like, but maybe his involvement in the future, on Konoha's side, could lead to even more profits for them long term. At the end of the day he's not against killing Madara (though to be clear, they are at first operating on trying to avoid all interactions with historical events and return home without touching things) but it'd be nice, to manage to get a happy ending for everyone. Unrealistic maybe, but nice.
Mmmm hear me out actually, maybe Shisui, after interacting with him a bit, finds that Madara reminds him of Itachi too. They definatley both have that "I would do unspeakable things to even dream of my loved just one more time" energy, if you know what I mean
Anyways; Kakashi and Tenzo are both neutral on Madara. Yes, they learned about how he betrayed the village when young just like everyone else, but they weren't getting the bed time stories and "do this and you'll end up just like him" warnings like the Uchiha's. They're possibly leaning into negative but are detached from the situation enough to just go "well he hasn't done it yet and his brother is still alive so he won't any time soon" and be done with it
• Now, on the the total opposite side of the spectrum you have Hashirama and Tobirama. People are brought up in Konoha to fucking IDOLIZE these guys. You can not tell me our team of time travelers wouldn't be at least a little awed to speak with them.
I think Tenzo would be the most wide eyed about Hashirama, both for the baseline "holy shit that's the Shodai Hokage" and also that fun juicy mokuton user imposter syndrome he has going on for him. That guys DNA is inside his body!!! Holy shit wait does that mean if someone did a blood relation test with them he might read as being related to him?? Fuck were gonna pocket that for now but like. Mmmmm potential.
I'd say Itachi is the most hesitant about Tobirama but again, village loyalist, so.
You know what tho maybe Shisui is the most hesitant about him (though still largely positive) he both def grew up looking up to him but can also see the anti-Uchiha policies people inact now with the implications that Tobirama would have approved of it. He doesn't know if he would, but like, he has to wonder.
Kakashi is probably the most normal about them (and also has experience in being close to a hokage (Minato) to know that at the end of the day they are painfully human) Don't get me wrong, he's still in some sort of awe! He might get a little lightheaded at the thought of seeing the God of Shinobi in proper battle, or the possibility to see the famed genius of Tobirama with all the different jutsu's he's invented. You can't tell me Kakashi didn't spend a little extra time reading about him when he was trying to make Chidori. Honestly I'm gonna roll with that and say he had a bit of a phase as a kid where he was a total fan boy. Maybe sprinkle in the good old HalfHatake!Tobirama hc to add some faint daydreams a lonley babykashi had after his father's death, about getting to meet him as family. Like cmon, little genius idolizing and projecting on some big history figure only to find out they're actually related? Can you say potential?
Anyways he did eventually grow out of the phase, probably got unattached to it all and lost interest after the whole "losing everything he loved" bit of his life. And at the end of the day, he doesn't have any real complex personal hang ups on the founders like the others do. Thus, most normal.
• And then my favorite most special boy, Izuna !! He's for sure the one they're all most neutral about. He's not actually taught about in the academy? There's probably some throw away line about him in some history books somewhere, but he died young and was quickly buried by the looming shadow of Konoha. The only real knowledge had about him in modern times is just a vague "Yeah he got killed by Tobirama which lead to peace being made but also lead to Madara losing his shit"
Poor Izuna he's the linchpin for it all but was left an unremarkable footnote of history. My boy deserves so much better
Tenzo doesn't actually even know who he is, that boy got bare minimum education under Danzo and Izuna was NOT included.
Itachi and Shisui mmmaybe have some small little fun fact here or there buried in stories from the older members of the clans but like. It's gonna amount to just "yeah he had a great katon" and thats about it.
I WILL SAY HOWEVER. Itachi sees him and instantly is that one PTSD dog meme. Sasuke is a BABY but holy shit Izuna looks exactly like he'd expect him to grow up as and it's making him FEEL THINGS. Also he's so bratty little brother coded !! He's an entire 7 years older than Itachi but Ifachi keeps fucking up and trying to big brother him it's embaressing.
And ofc Itachi didn't go into the first meeting thinking he'd see some weird older mirror version of his beloved baby brother who he misses and worries about very very much. So like. There's for sure going to be some conflict there. If their first meeting is a scuffle (which it probably will be) I think Itachi would keep hesitating to attack. On full run away mode. Which is probably for the best bc he shouldn't try to fight Izuna anyways honey he's like double your bodyweight and you're strong but you aren't THAT strong.
• Pointing back at both the 'Itachi does not like Madara and has quiet thoughts about how it'd possibly be in everyone's interest to just kill him' and the 'Itachi and Madara quietly bond over being clain head/heir during stressful times (w pressure from the elders especially)
I can see 2 outcomes of a potential bonding conversation with them:
1) They come to understand eachother better.
Madara wants to be on good terms, he looks at this kid and sees one of his brothers eyes and the others quiet determination. He can tell Itachi doesn't like him for some reason, and it's frustrating because he doesn't know why. He wants him to like him. He wants to be able to offer his hand and have it taken. It hurts, to be looked at with such suspicion from a face that has traces of Izuna's.
Meanwhile Itachi . . . Itachi looks at Madara and he sees someone who gets it. Gets it like no one ever has. It scares him. He looks up at this man, this horror story he's been told to fear becoming, and he sees himself. And this realization shakes him. It makes him think, makes him wonder. He's so, so sure of his loyalty to Konoha. More sure than he is of anything else in the world. But . . . But if something happened to Sasuke, if he had to choose—
And maybe it softens something in him too, along with the (honestly healthy) dose of fear. It forms a little crack in his shell, just enough to maybe, maybe let Madara through. Just a hair.
Or 2) we pull one of those "The conversation ends with them agreeing verbally but mentally they're on 2 VERY different notes."
Madara, nodding and looking at Itachi meaningfully: "Yeah it can be hard, but all we can really do is try to make the world a safer place for the ones we love. (To create Konoha, to keep my clan safe. Izuna safe. And now to keep you safe too.)
Itachi, nodding slowly: "Yeah. No matter how hard it is (even though I think I understand you more than anyone else Ive ever met) we have to try to make the world a safer place (by killing you in your sleep once Konoha is formed) for the ones we love (My clan. My village. Sasuke.)"
• Also pointing back at the 'Hatake warring clan era reputation,' the 'Tobirama is half Hatake' and also now pointing at Tobirama's title as the White Demon. Small thing but it'd be neat if there was some small throw away line that the nickname lowkey started in part because of the absoloutley terrifying reputation of the Hatake combined with Tobirama's own Everything(tm) like it just had some influence on how some view him. Give me Uchiha's making dog jokes ab him it'll be funny
• Ok but now the actual plot thoughts. Yeah I know I kept you waiting sorry about that.
So time travel! Probably due to a mission gone wrong. Some ruins or some ancient crumbling scroll that wasn't even supposed to do fucking time travel but was so old and corroded that it somehow managed to transform into a whole other seal by pure bad luck. Or good luck I guess, considering it could have just turned into a nuke.
Our favorite team of disasters are very very alarmed !!! What the fuck !!! Obviously they don't default to thinking time travel, but they immediatley know something is wrong. The landscape has changed, though the big landmarks are still there. The mission was complete anyways with no injuries so they just retreat to Konoha. Only oops !! It's not fucking there!!!
Queue alarm.
Shisui is the first one to suggest time travel because he's quirky like that. And there's a very easy way to confirm this theory.
(Also we're going to say that Konoha's location is a valley a few miles out from the Naka River that borders the Senju / Uchiha territories.)
This is convenient because that verification method involves checking in on where Itachi and Shisui know the old Uchiha compound should rest.
They do it in full stealth mode, the second they saw Konoha was missing Kakashi as team leader decided they'd treat the land as enemy territory. They all agreed ofc, for all they knew this WAS enemy territory now.
And, ofc, yeah!! There's the old Uchiha compound!! Being active!!! There are people there!!!
"What are the odds Fugaku-sama decided to have the clan return to their homeland for ahh, cultural enrichment?" Kakashi asked weakly.
"Time travel." Was the only reply he got from Shisui, whispered reverently as the boy vibrated with excitement on the branch.
Itachi just gave him a look, radiating a level of dissaproving disbelief that no normal 12 year old should be able to make. Kakashi would know, he was that not-normal 12 year old once.
From there they decide a no interference policy. Hands off guys!! They probably debate it tho, like, a good amount. They all have ✨️opinions✨️ except maybe Tenzo who's lowkey still in the middle of trying to learn how to be a person and is following Kakashi's lead 99% of the time. Especially since they're still in mission mode and this is like a super serious discussion and he really does know the least ab the founders overall.
They probably debate the merits of going to Uzushiogakure bc seal help but it's really far and they don't actually have like, just any leverage with them. They already decided not to fuck with the future so it isn't like they can trade secrets and warnings. At least if shit happens here they have some plausible deniability, being, yk, 2 uchiha's and a senju-passing guy with Mokuton. Kakashi's kinda fucked tho in that regard but he isn't going to be doing the party ANY favors with his clan heritage.
Which means it's time to potentially get desperate enough to interact with Tobirama !!! Which will inevitably lead to them bumping into a Uchiha patrol or something!!! I don't know honestly
• Anyways want Hashirama and Tenzo to interact. He has so many issues like holy shit. Let Hashirama give him the hug he deserves. I want him to violently adopt him. New brother acquired!!!
I said before but Tenzo is still reprogramming from ROOT. Let Hashirama impact that! Let him help! They can make flower crowns and photosynthesize together idk
Hashirama would be so happy to have another mokuton user, I think they should be able to sense eachother extra strong and like 'ping' off of eachothers chakra, it'll be fun
▪︎ I'm not thinking toooo hard about power scaling and this is fanfiction so a) don't quote me on this and b) for the love of all that is holy don't take my words as gospel
But for this fic specifically I'm ranking the founders and Team Ro, weakest to strongest (in a clean, fair fight head on w no time to prepare) :
Itachi (he's fucking 12 guys. But also he is like. FRACTIONS under Tenzo and Shisui. If he were 13 I'd let him be above or at the same level but like. He's 12. Cmon.)
Tenzo - Shisui (they're like JUST under the next 2 tho like seconds behind)
Izuna - Tobirama
Kakashi ( by the skin of his fucking teeth and the advantage that is his stupid amount of jutsu's and lack of self preservation)
Madara - Hashirama
And again that's not counting like. The specific situations, time given to prepare, potential dirty tricks they could play (I think the Konoha tricks would play a fraction dirtier than the others, who are slightly more used to big open battles vs the ANBU squad who does all sorts of shit in all sorts of places) plus like. Mental state and team ups.
Tenzo or Shisui couldn't take down Izuna or Tobirama but if they teamed up I'd allow it. Kakashi would get his ass kicked by Hashirama or Madara but he could survive a minutes longer than the others would
Itachi is doing his best
But like
He's 12 guys
I love him and he is terrifyingly competent but he won't win 1 on 1 with anyone unless he has some sort of advantage. Minus Shisui and Tenzo who he does have the advantage of regularly fighting, so.
• I think they do get to go back home in the end. It takes a ton of work tho and they probably do need to get Mito's help with it, Kakashi can show them the seal they got brought here with but it's an ACTUAL one in a trillion miracle it didn't fucking atomize them. So it needs a lot of touch ups
Anyways !!!
I have a little more rattling around in my brain but I'm really tired and also starting to think about other things now so I'm gonna stop here. Might come back and add to it later so stay tuned if you're into that
Full disclaimer I'm not gonna write this. I don't have the proper energy and it'd probably end up being too ambitious of a project if I tried. I'd love to see it happen tho, so like !! Big open invitation to absoloutley anyone who might want to take even a fraction of the ideas I've listed.
@ me if you do tho I wanna see the final product
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carboysandbikemen · 1 year
Note
Fernando being your dad’s best friend or something and someday he can’t help but give in to your teasing even though there’s a bit of an age gap and it feels wrong… but he finally decides to fuck you, calling you his good girl🫣 Very unhinged I’m so sorry x
Never apologise, this is the unhinged content I crave!!! -🐝
Also TY for all of the recent Fernando asks!! Glad to see people are just as unhinged about that insane little man as us. Will be writing more Nando content in due course!
Good Luck Charm
Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, age gap, daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex, Fernando was made to eat pussy fight me, disclaimer I don't speak Spanish and had to use google 😬
Word count: 3,142
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The security guard checks your pass, looking you up and down slightly but pasting on a smile and waving you through. To be fair to him you do have an unprecedented level of access for someone who is rocking up to the paddock alone.
Going along to GP's isn't exactly new to you, after all you've been coming to them ever since you were little, and more recently with your dad to support his friend Fernando.
Weaving through the paddock to find Fernando feels like second nature, only having to ask two of the Alpine crew you vaguely recognise where he is before finding him.
Honestly? You've been shamelessly flirting with him whenever your dad wasn't in earshot for a couple of years now. Partly because well, it's Fernando, he's ridiculously hot, but also because it's become almost a game of how far can you push him before he snaps. This time though, this time you're determined to cross that line. It's all or nothing.
"Hi." You announce yourself, peaking from behind the door where Fernando is sat with one headphone in his ear, the other dangling at his chest.
When he looks up at you, the frown on his face quickly turns into a smile and he pulls the other earphone out, standing to greet you.
You meet him halfway, pushing yourself into his open arms to hug him, pressing your body against his as you go up onto your tip toes just so you can fall back down again, sliding yourself against his toned chest.
When you pull apart he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly, but you brush it off, smiling with faux innocence.
He looks over your shoulder, as if checking that it's just you before asking, "Your father?"
"Oh he couldn't make it, I thought he told you it was just me this weekend?"
You're pretty sure you told your dad to tell him that you and a few of your friends were planning to go. All part of the plan to tease Fernando a bit more without anyone to interrupt you.
"Ahhh yes, I remember, you are meant to be bringing friends no?"
"Oops, I forgot to ask them." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him cheekily.
He gives you a knowing look and you raise your eyebrows as a challenge. Instead of chastising you, or falling for the bait he shakes his head.
"No matter. I'm sure you will make friends." He smiles at you like he's in on the game and he's here to play. "I could introduce you to Esteban again."
You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the thought and Fernando laughs at you, deep and open and you want to grab his stupid face and run your hands through his hair but you pull yourself back to the present.
"Are you ready for quali?" You walk around his room, feeling his eyes on you without looking at him, touching his desk, running your fingers over it before picking up his Kimoa cap.
"Always."
He's waiting for you to make the first move, he's almost daring you to, stood there with his arms crossed.
"Hmm. Maybe you need a good luck charm?"
You put the cap on your head.
"And what do you have in mind hmm?"
"I can think of a few things." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him, trying to get across an innocent suggestiveness that you think might just be working, as he steps closer to you.
"Why did you come here alone?"
"I think you know why." You lean in closer to him.
He doesn't move.
"Cariño, you are making this difficult." He's almost gritting his teeth.
"It doesn't have to be."
"Dios me ayude," Fernando sighs under his breath, and you don't know what he's saying but you can guess you're about to finally FINALLY get what you want. "You know we can't."
He doesn't sound sure though. He doesn't sound sure at all, so you close the space between you.
"Fernando." You breathe out. He slips his hand up to your face and you think he's going to touch you but he just grabs his cap back, flinging it across to the desk again.
You huff out a frustrated noise and he smirks down at you.
"Yes?"
"Please." You're so close you can smell his aftershave and you decide that it doesn't matter anymore, this game, all you need is for him to fuck you. Desperately.
"Please what, little one?"
He slips his hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into his eyes. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip.
"Tell me what you want." He prompts again.
"Please fuck me." You whisper, and he smirks down at you, slipping his thumb inside your warm wet mouth.
Obliging, you wrap your lips around it, rolling your tongue over the pad. He lets you do this a few times, before drawing his thumb back, pulling at your lower lip. He looks at you for a second, before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.
You practically sigh into the kiss, feeling him move one of his hands up to the back of your head and the other down to grip at your waist, pulling you into him.
Gently, he bites at your lip, slipping his tongue over the cusp of your lip before drawing back. You try to follow him but he moves his other hand down to grip the other side of your waist.
"We should stop this."
"No!" You practically shout, pressing yourself against him, watching as his face lights up with a grin and his grip tighten. You should have known that as soon as you got him to give in, then the game would be flipped. He has you right where he wants you. Although, it very much still feels like you're winning.
"This worked up already? Cariño, look at you, just a kiss and my hands on you and you're already desperate. Maybe you cannot take it." He sighs dramatically, thumbing his hand under your shirt and running his fingers along the bare skin of your hips.
"No I can, I can take it." You assure him. Then, to prove your point, you quickly throw off your top and bra, leaving you standing topless in front of him, his hands still toying with the skin above the waistband of your trousers.
He huffs out a small laugh at your antics, which you only find mildly insulting, and runs his hands over your stomach and up your chest, thumbing your nipples briefly making you squirm.
"What did I say hmm? Desperate." He brushes them again and you let out a small gasp. "Look at you."
"Please. Just... fuck me." You say again.
"Patience." He pinches one of your nipples and you have to squeeze your thighs together. "Go lock the door. Take your trousers off, and come sit." He gestures to the sofa and you feel the heat rising on your face as you comply, quickly locking the door and shuffling out of your trousers.
As you go to take off your underwear he stops you.
"Leave them on."
He guides you until you're sitting down on the sofa, legs spread as he kneels in front of you. Slowly, he runs his hands up you thighs, the touch light and teasing until he reaches the seam of your underwear.
"Did you tease me on purpose?"
"What?" You're struggling to think about anything except his hands on you, so so close to where you want.
"Every time you visited, or I came over and you bent over in front of me or touched my arm or said suggestive things. Was it all on purpose?"
"Yeah." You breathe out, and he grips your inner thigh a little harder. "It was."
"Okay." It's said so flippantly but you can’t help but think that something’s coming, some sort of reprimand or punishment for your behaviour but right now all you want is his fingers on you.
"Okay, I want you to come at least twice before I'll think about fucking you. You can be a good girl, no? I think thats fair."
He moves in before you have a chance to reply and nips at the skin of your thigh with his teeth making you gasp. He makes his way up the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin and you can't help but squirm, pushing your hips up to try and get more contact. In response, he just presses his hands down on your hips, steadying you.
When he gets between your legs he stops.
"Fernando." You whine at him. "Come onnnn."
He huffs out a laugh at your antics, moving his hand down to brush lightly over the fabric of your underwear, causing your whine to become a gasp.
Pressing a little harder, he watches as the fabric dampens underneath his touch, smiling as you moan for him. Still holding you down with one hand, he starts to play with you, running his fingers over the dampening fabric, dragging it against your clit as he presses down.
"Look at how wet you are for me. Such a good girl." He pushes the fabric into you slightly, the rough feeling making you moan this time, a choked needy little noise.
"Can I..." You start but you get cut off by a circle of your clit.
"Hmm?" He says innocently, as if he isn't playing with your covered pussy like you're a little toy to amuse him.
"Can I take them off?"
"No."
He continues as you huff out a frustrated whine, needing his fingers inside you desperately.
"They're staying on until you come in them. I want to see you ruin them."
With that he doubles down, leaning in to mouth at your pussy over the fabric, the warmth and drag of the fabric nearly making you scream out. You can feel it building up, your legs tensing slightly as he holds you there so he can have his fun.
"Please..." You ask, desperately needing just a bit more pressure.
"Please what?"
"Please daddy." You respond. It slips out of you with ease, seeming almost natural and it takes you a second to notice he's raised his eyebrows at you, clearly not expecting that from you.
You feel your face flush and start to turn red as you mumble out a 'sorry'.
"No, I like it." Is all that Fernando says, gaze darkening. "Be a good girl and come for me then."
With that he sucks at your clit over the fabric and presses them into you a little as you finally feel yourself come, wrapping your legs around his head as he rides it out with you.
"Thats my good girl." He grins at you. "Ruining your pretty underwear for me."
He peels them off and you lift your hips for him so he can pull them down.
He looks at them thoughtfully, then up at your mouth, before shaking his head and throwing them aside, almost as if he was contemplating gagging you with them.
The thought makes you almost ready to go again.
"Look at you spread out and dripping for me."
He spreads your legs with his hands and runs his thumb over your dripping pussy, but avoiding your oversensitive clit.
"I need you to fuck me." You huff out.
"Ahh but you have to come again before that, no? Or did you forget."
You groan at his smirking face, throwing your head back. It doesn't last long though, as Fernando slips two fingers straight inside of you, hooking them upwards as you clench around him and let out a high pitched little noise at the feeling.
Without warning he puts his mouth directly on your clit, rolling his tongue over it as he keeps his fingers still, feeling you tighten around him as you moan and whine.
You can't help but thread your hands through his hair, pulling on him tightly as you press his head into you.
It's almost too much, you're too sensitive.
"The noises you make." He says in wonder, pulling away to look up at you. "I bet boys your age don't know what to do with you, no? You need me to fuck you properly?"
You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He's right, no one has ever been like this. Sure, you've had sex before but no one has ever played with you like this, with such focus and skill to make you come so fast. No one has ever made you come multiple times.
His fingers are still in you, slowly fucking in and out of you now, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he finally fucks you properly.
"Ye... yes." You manage to choke out, losing your grip on the ability to talk, your mind solely focused on the drag of his fingers in you and the pressure of his thumb against your clit.
"You're dripping onto the sofa Cariño, look at the mess you make." He punctuates it with a particularly fast thrust of his fingers, making you tighten and whine at him.
He speeds up, watching his fingers disappear into your wet little pussy for a moment before nipping at your thigh slightly and then running his tongue over you, up around his fingers and pressing against your clit.
You thrust your hips up and he lets you move against him, his fingers fucking into you fast and hard as you grind yourself against his face. You don't give him any warning this time, the feeling building suddenly. You tighten your thighs around him as well as the grip in his hair as you come again around his fingers.
"Fuck." You sigh as you come down, his fingers still toying with you gently before pulling out and wiping your own wetness on your thigh, the sight making you scrunch up your nose.
"So good for me." Fernando mumbles and you feel yourself blush at his words. "Do you think you can take me now?"
"Yeah, I can daddy."
"Good girl."
Before you can even begin to recover, Fernando has stripped out of his clothes and moves you until you're straddling him, his hard cock resting between you.
You get the idea, raising yourself up so you’re positioned over him and he pulls you in for a kiss as he guides his cock along the wetness of your pussy.
Slowly, you lower yourself down, feeling him stretch you out as you gasp into his mouth. He lets you take your time, biting at your lower lip as he also groans at the feeling of your hot wet cunt.
Grabbing your hips, he experimentally pushes you down a little and you whine, looking him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrow at you in a silent question.
You think you know exactly what he's asking so you nod your permission. He smiles, but more gently this time, grabbing your hips tighter and pushing you down faster than you'd been moving.
It feels so full when you finally take all of him inside of you, letting yourself adjust to the sensation as you sigh into his neck, running your teeth gently over the skin and mouthing gentle bites.
He palms at your ass, moving you in small rocking motions against him until you feel like you can move again, slowly picking up speed until you're practically bouncing on his cock, watching him close his eyes and groan at the feeling.
It gives you a little more confidence as you speed up, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself.
One of his hands moves to thumb at your clit and you momentarily stutter in your pace, clenching around him as he tightens his grip on your hip in response.
It's almost too much, you're too sensitive from before and the feeling of him filling you up is like nothing you've ever experienced. You can feel your legs starting to shake and will yourself not to stop.
Fernando must notice though, as without any warning he picks you up, cock still buried deep inside of you, and lays you flat on the sofa, moving your legs so that they're resting on his shoulders, practically bending you in half for him.
"You're so tight mi amor."
You can’t even form the words to reply, too focused on the feeling of him fucking into you, controlling the pace as he slips a hand down to brush over your nipples, pinching them slightly before moving down to play with your clit.
It's so overwhelming that you can’t help the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Fernando is saying something, maybe in Spanish, maybe he's calling you his good girl again, you're not quite sure, all you know is that every time he circles your clit and thrusts into you you're dangerously close to losing it again.
You don't want it to end yet, it's Fernando, you've wanted this for ages and now you finally have it and you don't want to give him up.
It's no use though, he thrusts into you a little deeper and thumbs at you a little harder and you're gone, crying out his name as you come around his cock. The way you clench down around him sets him off as well, and before you know it you can feel him coming inside of you, filling up your pussy so much that when he pulls out you can feel it start to drip out of you.
He gently sits back down laying your legs out gently over him as he rests a hand on your inner thigh and runs his fingers over you gently.
"You were so good for me y/n. Look at you laid there, perfect for me." He slips his hand between your legs and gently gathers some of the come dripping out of you and fucks it into you a little bit making you squirm.
"Fernando." You breath out. "I cannot come again. I just can't."
He huffs out a laugh.
"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, fucking his fingers in again, just the tip but enough to make you gasp. "I just cant help it. You look so pretty filled up for me."
"I can't believe we just did that." You say it mostly to yourself, but Fernando laughs again, this time a little more incredulously.
"If I get pole after this, if you're my good luck charm, we might have to do it every weekend."
You know it’s a joke but still, you can't help but fantasise about being his little good luck charm all the way up to a third world championship.
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violette-hue · 1 year
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Summary: You get stuck in an elevator with the person you possibly hate the most. . . Ushijima Wakatoshi.
Trigger Warning: unprotected sex, trapped in an elevator, language (?), arrogance, smut without a plot, not proof read, **aged up character(s)**
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: Found this bad boy from my old blog in my google drives. I hope you guys enjoy the bread *muah*
**minors. and ageless blogs do not interact**
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Things literally could not have ended up worse. There you were, trapped in an elevator with the ultimate douche bag: Ushijima Wakatoshi. Why the hell did he have to be so blunt all the time? Or so cocky? Has this man never heard of being humble? 
You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the elevator wall far from said douche bag. You huffed in annoyance for the uptenth time, earning another pointed glare from Ushijima. 
“Huffing won’t make the elevator work, Y/N,” he stated matter of factly. 
You rolled your eyes. “It seems it won’t make you disappear either,” you retorted, a bit of bite to your tone. 
Ushijima stared down at you and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the look he was giving you. It seemed to be a mixture of annoyance and something else..? His features were hard, but his eyes were soft.
You tore your eyes away from him, not wanting to see him look down at you for god knows how long you’d be in this elevator. You pulled out your phone for some company, only to find zero bars. Great, just what you needed. Tense silence with a man you hated. 
You huffed again. How the hell had you gotten into this situation? Oh. That’s right. The both of you were on your way to a dinner party with the team. You weren’t the manager or anything, but you helped out a lot since your uncle was the coach. 
When you arrived in the parking garage, you opted to take the elevator up since you weren’t too keen on walking up stairs in heels. That’s when Ushijima showed up. He passed the elevator and had done a double take. You could tell he was debating on whether or not he should join you, and, before the doors could close, he stepped inside. 
You mentally cursed yourself for not pressing the closed door button as you adjusted your champagne slip dress. True, it was only a dinner, but your uncle had chosen one of the fanciest restaurants in town and the occasion was black tie. You assumed there would be some sort of after party once the dinner was over. 
You stole a glance at Ushijima, looking him up and down. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good in that suit. He looked very good. Instead of wearing a basic white button down with his suit, he wore a black turtleneck. You subconsciously bit your lip as your eyes trailed over his toned arms that were very noticeable in his dressing. Your eyes trailed up and met his gaze and you quickly looked away, red dusting your cheeks. You saw him smirk from your peripherals and you scowled. Of course he would be a douche about catching you checking him out. 
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked after a moment of silence. 
“Yes,” you answered, not daring to look towards him. 
You heard him grunt and shuffle. “Why?” he questioned. You heard him step towards you and you tensed up. 
“You’re a douche bag. You only care about yourself and you think you’re so much better than others,” you answered. The more you spoke, the more angry you became. “You’re so cocky and rude and...and arrogant! And for what? You’d be a lot more attractive if you just were a bit more humble!” Your breathing was ragged, your chest heaving. You were fully looking at him now, your eyes boring into his olive orbs. 
You searched his face for any sort of emotion. He was frowning and his eyes were no longer soft. Instead, they were dark and roamed down your body. 
“Is that what you truly think of me?” he asked, the question coming out low and soft. 
“Yes,” you breathed, sticking out your chin. 
He shook his head. “I don't mean to be so arrogant. I know my talent and my worth, much like you, Y/N…” he trailed off. “Please forgive me if I’ve made myself unbearable.” 
You only just realized the lack of space between the two of you. Your chest was brushing against his with every breath you took and your faces were mere inches away from each other. You looked down to his lips, your mouth salivating at the thought of kissing him and having your way with him in this elevator. You snapped back to reality, shocked at your lewd thoughts. 
You pushed him away, growling softly. “Oh shut up! Don’t try and be nice now—god what the fuck is your problem?! You—you’re so—URGH!” 
You crossed your arms over your chest and shoved yourself in the corner of the elevator, breathing heavily. You were so worked up and you had no idea why. Why was he getting you so angry so easily? You dared take another glance at him and instantly regretted it. You were met with another smirk, this time wider. 
“I’m what?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer to you. 
You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, least you say something you’d regret. You instinctively backed further into the corner, looking anywhere but him. You could feel him looming over you--his eyes boring down into you. You shifted your stance, feeling suddenly small and heated. Why...why were you so heated? 
“I’m. What?” he repeated, smirking a bit. He stepped even closer to you, tracing your jaw with a finger and tipping your chin up to look at him. “Look at me,” he ordered. 
Your eyes flicked up to him, his words making your core throb. You cursed yourself for deciding not to wear underwear, feeling your wetness drip down your thigh. You examined his features, your eyes tracing over his eyes, then his lips. You wanted to kiss him so bad...to feel his warmth on you and his cock in you. Subconsciously, you puffed your chest out to show off your cleavage. You noticed his eyes trail down to your chest, then trail back up, stopping at your lips. 
“Truly, you’re such an infuriating woman,” he admitted, cupping the back of your neck and placing his lips on yours before you could respond. 
You stood there, shocked, but quickly kissed him back. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. You let out a small gasp as you felt his hardness against you, the movement of your lips allowing Ushijima to slip in his tongue. He pulled you closer, his large hands settling on your ass, the fabric of your dress barely guarding you from his warmth. Ushijima squeezed your ass, pulling you even closer. 
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” Ushijima murmured against your lips. 
Your eyes flickered up to his, your hands trailing down his chest and to his belt. He watched you fumble with the buckle and helped you pull his trousers down. His bulge seemed bigger now that he was only covered with his boxer briefs. You stroked his length through his boxers and palmed him, eliciting a soft groan from Ushijima. God, you really didn’t want to get dirty in an elevator, but at this point, your cunt was practically begging for it. 
Ushijima grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his crotch and swiftly picking you up. He gripped your thighs and pinned you up against the elevator wall, his lips attaching to your neck. He sucked on the sensitive spot on your neck, earning a small moan from you. The position you were in caused your dress to hike up your thighs, your pretty pussy on display for Ushijima. He trailed his fingers down over your folds. 
“You’re so wet already,” he mumbled, pecking your lips. “All this for my cock?”
You huffed, your chest puffing out again. “Well what if it was?” you asked, pursing your lips. 
Ushijima let out a deep chuckle, pushing past your folds and softly circling over your clit. Your hips bucked up and you moaned, throwing your head back. His lips attached to your neck once more, adding a bit more pressure to your clit. 
“U-Ushijima, please…” you whined, rolling your hips up. “The elevators can be fixed at any--HAH!” You were interrupted by a loud moan as Ushijima eased his cock inside you. 
Ushijima was a tall man, his features larger than most, but you hadn’t expected his cock to be this big. As he pushed himself deeper inside you, you felt every inch of his cock stretch you out. You gripped his biceps, your nails digging into the fabric of his white pressed shirt. He thrust into you, picking up a hard pace. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside you until your clit met his pelvis each time. He was pounding into you, the lewd noises of your sopping cunt and his balls slapping against each other filling the room. 
Your puffy walls clenched around him as your orgasm built in your abdomen. If Ushijima kept up this pace, you’d surely come undone soon. He adjusted his stance, snapping his hips into you at a different angle and hitting your g-spot. You screamed out his name, nails raking down his arms. 
“F-Fuck, I’m close,” Ushijima breathed against your neck, thrusting into you harder. 
You bit his shoulder, a scream coming out of your lips as your walls fluttered around his cock. You desperately tried to hold on a bit longer, but the pressure in your abdomen was too much, causing you to squirt on his cock. Ushijima thrust a few more times, cuming inside you. He stilled his hips as he painted your walls white and breathed heavily. 
You tilt your head back against the cold metal wall, your legs trembling and your breathing labored. “Fuck,” you let out, chuckling. “The minute you pull out and set me on this floor, your cum is gonna drip down my leg…”
Ushijima let out a chuckle and pulled out. “I have a handkerchief in my pocket,” he said, adjusting his trousers and buckling his belt once more. 
You shifted, feeling his cum start to travel down your thigh and grabbed his handkerchief. You quickly cleaned yourself up and jolted as the elevator began to move once more. You looked at Ushijima, smiling as you watched him fix his tie. 
Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought. 
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mixelation · 4 months
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i was like "i should towards finishing my fics on ao3" and then i opened google docs and wrote some other nonsense instead
anyway here's the minato-and-naruto quasi time travel thing i keep threatening to write
The problem with Hiraishin accidents was that they tended to be… strange. Most jutsu accidents ended with an explosion or a blade slipping or something like that. Hiraishin accidents ended with you standing in random places, sometimes with random pieces of clothing missing. 
Minato was a little surprised to end up in a park, but not immediately worried. He was still in Konoha, and all of his clothes were in place. The interesting part was that when he tried his experiment, it had been 2 PM at the height of summer. Now it was dark and markedly cold. 
He was in a park near the outskirts of the village. Hokage monument loomed in the distance. 
Minato blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dark. This end of the park had a playground for children. It had several street lamps, but half of them were out. He was currently standing next to a slide, which was covered in graffiti. These details seemed odd to him, as he’d been an advocate for Konoha’s park maintenance. Konoha sinking all their funding and manpower into the Third Shinobi War meant Minato had grown up playing on rusty and half-broken equipment, and he’d promised his unborn son that he’d have nicer places to play. 
Minato was never going to get to be a father, and he saw this as all the more reason to support infrastructure changes to improve the village for families that did have children. He owed it to baby Naruto. 
Ah, well. This park was pretty far out. Maybe it was somehow getting missed. Minato mentally filed the problem away to address after he’d figured out if he’d… blacked out for a while, or whatever had just happened. 
There was one other presence in the whole park. A little kid was playing in a sandbox. Minato wondered where the kids’ parents were, this late at night. 
Minato approached the kid, making sure to make enough noise to be noticed. The kid froze in the middle of making some sort of… sand pile… and looked up at Minato with suspicious eyes. 
“What?” the kid demanded. He had light colored hair sticking out from under a knit hat. He scowled at Minato very seriously, which was adorably hilarious on such a young face. “What do you want?”
He must not recognize me, Minato decided, amused. It was dark, and the kid was pretty young. 
Minato squatted at the edge of the sandbox. There were random patches of grass in the sand. The kid puffed himself up, his scowl still in place. 
“Hey, kid,” Minato said. “I need some help. Can you answer some questions for me?”
“What questions?” the kid asked. “I’m allowed to be here, you know!”
Minato felt his stomach tighten slightly at the wording. It was so close to how Kushina used to talk, and this kid was about the age Naruto would be… 
Get a grip, Namikaze, Minato thought. This type of distraction was probably why he’d screwed up the Hiraishin to begin with. He needed to focus. Lots of people probably happened to speak like Kushina. 
“Actually, the park is closed after dark,” Minato said gently, and the kid looked scandalized. It was very cute. Minato winked. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Afterall, I’m here after closing too, aren’t I?”
The kid relaxed into a pout. He eyed Minato up and down, and Minato tried to look as friendly and unthreatening as possible. 
“You’re a ninja!” the kid finally said, visibly brightening. “You have a hitai-ate!”
He pointed. Minato grinned. 
“Sure am,” he agreed. 
“Then why do you need help from me?” the kid asked, eyes wide. 
At this point, it would have indeed been faster and more efficient to just teleport back to his office and ask an adult questions. But this kid was very cute, and Minato liked talking to the youth of Konoha. 
“I had a jutsu accident,” Minato said, very seriously. The kid’s eyes basically bulged out of his head. Adorable. “I’m afraid to tell any other ninja, in case they make fun of me. But you won’t make fun of me, will you?”
The kid got so excited he actually ended up on his feet, waving his arms intensely. Sand flew everywhere. 
“No way!” the kid yelled. “Everyone makes mistakes, you know! That’s what the old man says whenever I mess up, and I mess up a lot, you know. I don’t like when people make fun of me! So I won’t make fun of you, and if the other ninja make fun of you, I’ll beat them up for you!”
“Whoa, whoa!” Minato said, putting his hands up. This kid was enthusiastic. “That’s very nice of you, but you don’t need to beat anyone up for me, promise. Why don’t you hear my questions first?”
The kid took a deep breath. 
“Okay,” he said. 
“Do you know what time it is?” Minato asked. The kid shook his head. “Well, do you know what time you left your house?”
“I dunno,” the kid said. “But I didn’t come here from my house. I came from the Academy, you know! I’m training real hard to be a ninja too!”
The kid rambled for a bit, and Minato frowned as he listened to the story. The kid had had detention after class, after some prank he’d pulled on his teacher, and then he’d come immediately over to the park. He said he liked coming at night when the park was empty, because other children often wouldn’t let him play with the “good” equipment. 
“Usually I have to wait until after dinner,” the kid was saying. “But in winter it gets dark real early, you know!”
The kid did know the date. 
“Can you tell me… the year?” Minato said slowly. 
The kid told him.
If the kid was right, Minato had gone back in time five months. So that was… a new way for the Hiraishin to be messed up. What a terrifying discovery. 
When Minato, lost in thought, didn’t ask follow up questions, the kid was unperturbed. He continued to ramble about his ninja training. 
At least, if Minato really was back in time, it was only five months. If he couldn’t figure out how to undo it, he could just lay low those five months until his past self also winked out of time, and just step right back into his life. Unless that wasn’t how time travel worked…? Tobirama had written some theories on time travel and seemed to think it didn’t work that cleanly… 
“...and then I’m going to be Hokage!” the kid cried, pumping a fist in the air. 
Minato grinned, despite the situation. This kid was a riot. How had he not noticed him before? 
“I’m sure you will be,” Minato told him, reaching forward to place a hand on the kid’s hat, like he would to ruffle hair. “Thank you for helping me.”
Minato stood. He wanted to go to his office as soon as possible to get to work verifying he had time traveled, and maybe consult Tobirama’s old writings, but he also couldn’t just leave this kid alone. He’d drop him off at his home as quickly as possible, he decided. He’d love to see this kid’s reaction to realizing who he was. Or to getting to see his famous Hiraishin. 
“Hey, kid,” Minato said. “My name is Namikaze Minato. What’s yours?”
The kid didn't seem to recognize the name at all. But he beamed up at Minato, showing all his teeth. 
“This means we’re friends now, right?” the kid said. “I’m Uzumaki Naruto!”
The kid continued to ramble about how cool it was to have a ninja for a friend, but Minato couldn’t hear him. 
He couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t breathe. 
Was this a joke? A sick prank by a villager? Or attack, even? A cruel, evil genjutsu, maybe? 
Minato suddenly wanted to flee, or maybe he wanted to fight, or to disappear forever. He had no name for this emotion, but he did push out his senses, tapping into his Hiraishin network. It lit up in his mind, scattered across the village. 
It was wrong. There were fewer markers than there should be. And… one extra one. 
Minato's gaze turned back to the kid in front of him. The kid had one of his markers in him, burning brightly at his stomach. 
“Hey, hey,” the kid said, taking Minato’s hand and tugging. “Are you alright, mister?”
Minato tried to dispel a genjutsu. Nothing happened. The kid was still staring up at him with blue eyes the exact shape of Kushina’s. 
“Na… naruto,” Minato said, the word feeling too intimate to be spoken out loud. The kid just blinked curiously up at him. “I… I need to take you home. Where are your parents?”
“Oh,” Naruto said. “Don’t worry about that! I don’t have any, so I can stay out as late as I want, you know.”
Minato stared at him. 
He sat on the edge of the sandbox. 
He stared at the kid some more. 
“Are you okay?” the kid asked, dubious. 
“Do you know who the Hokage is, Naruto?” Minato asked weakly. 
“Oh, yeah!” Naruto said. “Old man Third!”
“It’s not the Fourth?” Minato asked weakly. 
Naruto shook his head vigorously. “Nope! ‘Cause he’s dead.”
Minato did not have Tobirama’s theories on time travel memorized, but he had read through them. One theory was that true time travel wasn’t possible. Time was just infinite probabilities, constantly diverging with every decision anyone ever made, and one couldn’t go back in time because time simply wasn’t linear like that. 
But one could hop into a different probability. A different timeline, where things played out just slightly differently.
Minato also knew there was no way to fake a Hiraishin marker. His past self in this timeline made one and put it in this boy, the same way he’d wanted to do for baby Naruto when he realized the baby had to become the Kyuubi’s next container, before everything collapsed into Minato’s first and greatest failure as a father. 
Minato put his head between his knees and concentrated on breathing. 
“Whoa, mister!” Naruto cried and helpfully patted his back. “Are you sure you’re a ninja? You don’t seem very tough.”
Minato laughed weakly, staring at the dark grass from between his knees. “You said you wouldn’t make fun of me.”
“Yeah, well…” Naruto stuttered out. 
Naruto. 
Minato sat up and looked at his son. It was too dark to see every detail of Nruto’s face, but now that Minato knew to look, he looked just like Kushina. He even had the unusually chubby cheeks Kushina had hated as a kid. 
He wanted to hug him, to kiss his cheeks and beg for forgiveness. 
He also knew that would probably freak the poor kid out. 
“Sorry, Naruto,” he said finally. “I have… I have more questions. Can we go inside somewhere?”
Naruto squinted at him. 
“Are you some kind of loser ninja?” he asked. “You’re crying.”
Minato laughed. He was crying. How embarrassing.
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