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#while she so desperately was trying to reach him
ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 days
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You Could Be Mine
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: smut
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It was a hot summer evening and you found yourself on a private party on a 100 m yacht in Monaco hosted by none other than Lando Norris. Actually, you weren't initially invited, your best friend was, but when she mentioned to Lando that you were in town too, he was more than happy to send you a verbal invitation through her.
Lando and you have a history together. You met a year ago in a club when you were visiting Monaco for the first time. He was your friend's friend and from the first moment you laid eyes on each other there was an undeniable attraction between you two. You spent 3 unforgettable wild nights together back then, but there has never been anything more since then.
And here you were again, back in town, at his party. There was quite a lot of people for a private party, a lot of girls too, but his eyes were glancing at you the whole night. You could feel his gaze searching for you, but you also saw how many girls around him were practically begging for his attention and you weren't gonna be one of them.
You don't want him that much, you thought.
That's why he couldn't wait to catch you alone somewhere. Once you wandered onto the upper deck, the highest one where was no people, Lando saw his chance and took it. You two quickly got into talking. He was so obviously flirting with you, he really wasn't wasting any time, he wanted to let you know that you've been on his mind and that he didn't forget about your nights together.
"So for how long are you staying in Monaco?" He asked stepping closer to you holding his hands in the pockets of his white linen pants.
"Two more nights." You say biting your lip.
"That's such a shame.." Pulling them out of his pockets, one of his hands finds its way to your cheek and the other to your waist pulling you closer to him. "If only I'd known sooner that you were here..."
"And why is that?" You ask glancing at his lips as his thumb caresses your cheek.
He runs his tongue over his lip then gently traces with his finger over your bottom lip before mumbling "What if I told you I've been getting off to the thought of you?"
You smirk squeezing your thighs hoping he wouldn't notice it while your faces are only inches away from each other's.
"It wasn't easy to forget you either, I must admit"
"Yeah?" He asks and you nod putting your hands against his chest looking up at him. "So what are we gonna do about it then?"
"Well, you tell me"
"I'd rather show you" He murmurs before he finally presses his lips against yours. The kiss gradually changed from gentle and slow to fast, passionate and heated. He was hungry for more of whatever this was between the two of you. His tongue ran over your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you willingly granted.
"Fuck, I forgot what a good kisser you are" He pants and you blush hiding your face in his shoulder. He gently moves your hair out of your neck so he can leave sloppy kisses that send tingly feelings through your body.
His hand slowly comes between your thighs slowly working its way up under your short dress as you slightly part your legs for him. Just as his fingers were about to reach your wet lace panties, a squeaky female voice interrupts you.
"Lando!" The girl screams from downstairs making you quickly close and squeeze your thighs at the loss of his touch as he pulls back from you. "Where are you? Are you coming down?" The girl asks climbing a few stairs to see him. It was the girl who had been crawling all over him all evening desperately trying to get a minute of his attention. Her gaze stops at you raising her eyebrow and eyeing you up and down.
"Give me a minute" Lando says brushing her off to which she mumbles something rolling her eyes, clearly annoyed at his lack of interests, and leaves.
"Is that your girlfriend to be?" You provoke.
"She'd like that, but she never will be" He reassures you once again pulling your body closer to him. "But you could be" You giggle, but don't say anything to his unexpected proposal?
"I'd love to fuck you against this fence now," He whispers squeezing your hips. "But I'll do that in the morning when everyone leaves"
"What makes you think I'll be here in the morning?" You tease him.
"There's no way I'm letting you go before I show you how much I've been thinking about you." He groans as you slowly lift your leg and press your knee lightly into his crotch. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy..Come with me right now"
Lando goes down the stairs first and you follow behind him. He takes your hand leading you as you two disappear unnoticed into one of the rooms on the yacht.
As soon as the door closed he was pressing you against them forcing his tongue inside your mouth and lifting up your dress. You whimpered as he vigorously turned you around pulling your panties to the side and gently pushing your cheek against the hard surface of the door. He slipped his fingers inside you only to spread your wetness all over your slit and over his tip before teasing you with it.
"Lan" You moaned.
"What baby?" He murmurs into your ear rubbing his cock over your folds, but not pushing himself in. "Tell me what you want"
"Stop with the teasing and fuck me already"
"Fuck, you turn me on so much you don't even know. Feel how hard you make me? It's fucking aching for you" He hisses grinding against your ass.
He positions his cock at your entrance and you eagerly push your ass back on him. You were dripping wet so he slid in without the slightest trouble.
"So ready for me" He groans scraping his teeth over your bare shoulder making you shiver. "You're so tight baby, fuuuck"
He was thrusting into you deep and fast, your ass was grinding back against his pelvis as the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room. You were so into each other that you weren't even trying to be quiet. You almost forgot that anyone could walk by the room and hear your moaning.
As the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach started building, from the other side of the door, the squeaky voice of the girl who interrupted you once was heard again.
"Lando?"
"Shit" The voice snaps you back to reality as he abruptly stops moving making you whine ruining your orgasm.
"Lando, are you in there?" She asks again. He puts his hand over your mouth breathing heavily as he slowly starts moving again.
"Should I tell her how deep inside of me you are?" You ask quietly removing his hand from your mouth.
"She's fucking crazy, and I don't want anyone to touch you" He pulls out of you and turns you around to face him.
"I'm not scared of her, I know she can't have you the way I can" You didn't even mind that she was behind the door because you knew you had all his attention, you knew he was starving only your touch.
You start kissing his wide neck, running your tongue over the veins that were popping out as he throws his head back.
"Fuck, she's not even half of you"
He reaches under your ass tapping your thighs signaling you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. When you do so he leads you to the bed gently throwing you down and getting on top of you.
"I missed you" He says looking at your lips before you connect them. You were clinging to each other as he started thrusting into you again only this time slow, deep and raw. He was enjoying the feeling of your walls tightly hugging him.
"I missed you too" You were moaning into each other's mouth, gasping for air as both of you were getting closer and closer. "Faster, Lan, please"
"You gonna cum with me?" He asks. You nod and he quickens his pace. "I'm n-not pulling out, okay?" His voice cracked and legs trembled. You didn't even have time to answer as your climax penetrated your whole body. Lando's quickly followed by filling you up to the top.
"Ohh fuuck" He moaned before collapsing down on you.
When your breathing calmed down he propped himself up on his elbows looking at you and caressing your cheek before placing a soft kiss on it. "You okay, baby?" He asks.
"Yeah" You blush at the nickname he didn't call you by the last time you were together.
"Why are you blushing?" He asks smiling, but you're too shy to say why. "Tell me"
"I'm not telling you"
"Is it because I called you baby?" You giggle trying to hide your face to the side from him, but his fingers pull your chin back to face him. "I'm not letting you leave Monaco this time. You're staying here with me."
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simplyholl · 1 day
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The Newlywed Game
Summary: You’re forced to play The Newlywed Game with your ex situationship.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader
Warnings: Angst. Smuttish, but not my usual descriptive smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.
See my Masterlist here
“I can’t.” That’s all the explanation you got when Bucky ended your situationship. You were friends with benefits for almost a year. The only rule he had was don’t fall in love. He had too much baggage and he never wanted a family. He didn’t want anyone to depend on him.
You couldn’t blame him, he was traumatized by Hydra. Trapped inside his own body for decades, he was afraid it could happen again. You jumped in head first with him anyways. You were in his bed after every mission, every meeting, every day. You basically lived in his room, not that he would ever admit that. Then one rainy afternoon, you knocked on his door like always. Except this time, he didn’t pull you into his warm embrace.
He moved out of the way so you could come in, and immediately you knew something was wrong. You reached for him, ready to console him, desperate for his touch. He had just finished a mission with Sam and he’d been gone for two weeks. You missed him, and he was usually so excited to see you.
When you placed your hand on his cheek, rubbing the scruff that had grown while he was gone, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist removing it. “I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was so low you could barely understand. Your eyes narrowed at his words. “Have I done something wrong?”
“This has gone on for longer than it should have. I can’t let it anymore.” Your throat tightens, but you refuse to cry in front of him. You walked out and your relationship with him was never the same. You didn’t hang out anymore.
When you were alone, he would leave. He didn’t sit beside you during the Friday night movie. He didn’t choose you for his partner on game night. The other Avengers didn’t know for sure that you were hooking up. You hid it pretty well. They had their suspicions, but neither of you ever confirmed it.
Tony called everyone to the back yard. “What’s all this?” Steve asks, pointing to the stage he had set up. “It’s my anniversary tomorrow and Pepper said she always wanted to play the Newlywed Game. So I had this built so we could play.”
“That’s great, Tony. But who are you all going to play with? There’s four set up’s and only two couples.” Steve gestures to Wanda and Vision. “Thought about that and Cap, you and Natasha are going to play and….” He looks at the whole team, everyone looking in different directions trying not to make eye contact. Except for Sharon, who hung around a lot lately. She was getting closer to Bucky, obviously wanting Tony to choose them. You roll your eyes. “Barnes and Y/N. There now we have all our couples. I’m going to go get Pep, you guys take your spots.”
You look at Bucky,but he’s busy talking to Steve about how ridiculous it is. You hear Sharon agree that he should have chosen someone else. When Pepper comes in, she excitedly claps her hands together. She points to the other teams, “You’re going down!” She laughs, but you can’t help but protest, “This is rigged! You guys and Wanda and Vision are the only real couples!! How is anyone else supposed to win?”
Tony shoots you a death glare but answers, “Cap and Natasha have definitely bumped uglies before. And you and Barnes are close friends. I thought that would make it more fair. But, I do expect to win.” You cross your arms, but accept his answer. Bucky finally looks at you, but it’s not friendly.
Sam comes out, wearing a suit Tony made him wear to host. “I’ll explain the rules. You all have a whiteboard, marker, and eraser. I will ask a question and you will write your answer on your boards. If your answer matches your partner’s you get a point. I’ll eliminate one couple each round until the final tie breaker.”
You take a deep breath. This is hell. But, you do know Bucky better than anyone, so as long as he didn’t ask any crazy questions, you would be fine. “First question. Where is the craziest place you and your partner have had sex?” You freeze. Of course Stark had these wild questions. If you both answered the same, everyone would know that you had hooked up.
You think about lying, but decide the ball should be in Bucky’s court. You’ll answer correctly, and if he doesn’t you’ll know he doesn’t want anyone to know. You quickly scribble your answer, waiting on Sam to call on you. Tony’s answer is Steve’s room and Pepper’s matched. Everyone laughed while Steve said Tony has to pay for his room to be deep cleaned.
Wanda and Vision both answer “in the air.” Natasha and Steve said a table in the meeting room. You turn your board to reveal your answer and Bucky shows his. You look and see that he has answered correctly. “The quinjet?! Damn y’all are nasty!” Sam laughs.
You’re taken back to that moment. You, Bucky, and Bruce were on your way back from a mission. Bruce was driving the quinjet, but activated the mode Tony installed for breaks. As soon as he started snoring, Bucky led you to the bathroom. He took you against the wall, metal hand across your mouth to stifle your moans. It was one of the hottest things you’d ever done. Your suit clung to you in the worst ways after that. His cum dripping down your legs, it was nearly impossible to take off.
The others look at each other in surprise. Scott yells “I told you they were hooking up. No one believed me!” Sharon looks at Bucky so harshly that if looks could kill, he’d be dead. He just shrugs his shoulders. Of course, he would be hooking up with her. Why wouldn’t he? She was pretty and it had been three months since he ended things with you.
The next question was “Who hogs the covers more?” Everyone got it right except for Steve and Natasha. She said that wasn’t a fair question because they never actually slept when they were together. The round continued with four more questions. At the end, Steve and Natasha were eliminated because they had the least amount of points. The rest of you were tied.
“What is your partner’s pet name for you?” Sam asks. That’s easy, “doll”, you write. When you reveal your answers, Sharon looks furious. That must be what he calls her too. It stings, thinking of them together. You don’t have time to dwell on it before Sam asks the next question. “What is the highest number of orgasms your partner has given you in one night?” Your eyes widen, you know the answer, but you don’t know if he will remember.
Tony and Pepper answer three, Tony grins like the cocky asshole he is. Vision and Wanda answer two. Bucky raises his board, “Six?!” Sam shouts, “How were you guys fucking this much and nobody knew?” He laughs. The round surprisingly ends with Wanda and Vision getting eliminated.
But you’re busy thinking about that night. Bucky’s head between your thighs for hours. He barely came up for breath. You were sure he would smother, but he insisted. He didn’t stop until the sheets were soaked, your legs were shaking so hard, you’d immediately fall if you tried to stand up.
He had you screaming his name all night. When he finally started fucking you, he took his time, pulling another orgasm out of you before going back down for another taste. He finally came with you on top. He had to lift your limp body on him, using you like a sex doll. You couldn’t move if you needed too. It was the best sex you’d ever had.
“It’s time for the tie breaker question. Answers don’t have to match, the crowd will vote on the most romantic answers.” Sam states. “When did you know you were in love?” Tony and Pepper immediately begin writing. You’re certain you’re going to lose this one. Bucky was never in love with you. You write your answer, deciding to answer truthfully.
Tony and Pepper’s answers make you tear up, they are so in love. You can only hope you’ll find that one day. You and Bucky reveal your boards at the same time. You glance at his, his answer knocks the breath out of your lungs because it matches yours. The Avenger’s Barbecue. You lock eyes, his gaze softens as he reads your answer.
You’ll never forget such a pivotal moment in your life. All of the Avengers and Shield agents’ friends and family were invited to play games, eat, and have a good time. Emily, who helped coordinate your missions brought her husband and three young children. A baby girl, a two year old boy, and a five year old girl. The children were drawn to Bucky. The two older children swung from his metal arm while he held the baby with his other one.
The image made your ovaries explode. You couldn’t help imagining how he would be if you had kids. He laughed as they asked him a thousand questions, playing on him like a jungle gym. You knew without a doubt, you were in love.
Bucky took a deep breath when he read your answer. Why was it the same as his? Did you know? Was it a prank you were playing on him? Emily’s children were entranced with you from the moment they met you. He couldn’t blame them, he felt the same. They had played with him for an hour before the food was ready. When Tony told everyone to make a plate, you offered to watch the kids while she and her husband got their food.
Bucky watched as you comforted the crying infant. The two older children sat beside you while you read from a book the girl got from their bag. Bucky knew he was screwed. He could see a life like this so clearly. Your belly round with his baby, while you tended to your other children. He didn’t want to admit how badly he wanted that. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with you.
That night he made love to you, it was softer, slower than the other times he touched you. He knew you could tell the difference too. He placed one last kiss to your lips, willing himself to let you go. The next morning, he left for his two week mission with Sam. He convinced himself that it was for the best if he ended things. He didn’t want to hurt you. You might be okay with it now, but years later you would regret it.
You’d realize having the Winter Soldier for a husband wasn’t worth everything you would have to go through. Then Sharon started flirting with him after Steve rejected her. He hadn’t so much as hugged her, but she acted like she was entitled to him.
Everyone voted for Tony and Pepper to win. They were the real couple and it was their anniversary tomorrow. Tony was going to treat everyone to dinner for being such good sports. You got out of there as soon as it was over. You needed a nap before going to dinner. It was all too much for you. How the hell did you and Bucky make it so far in the game? Why did he have the same answer for the last question? You convince yourself that he knew how you felt.
That night changed everything. The sex was different. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was making love to you. He had to be messing with your head. Somehow you manage to fall asleep even with your thoughts racing.
You wake up two hours later, just enough time to get ready for dinner. You put on the little black dress Bucky loved. If he wants to play games, bring it on. You apply your perfume when a light knock sounds on your door. You would recognize the knock anywhere. “Come in” you call. Bucky walks in, his tight black t-shirt hugging him in the best ways.
“Hey doll, we need to talk.” You put your earrings in, anger surging through you. “Talk about what? How you were trying to humiliate me up there? How you’re banging Sharon now? There’s nothing to talk about. You should just go.”
“Humiliate you? What about me? How did you know the answer to the last question?” He demands, charging toward you. “I answered it truthfully, James. How did you know my answer?” You ask, hands on your hips. “I answered honestly too.” He confesses, his blue eyes sweeping over the swell of your breasts.
“Stop lying! I don’t see what the point is. We have been over for three months. Why are you doing this?” He shakes his head, “I was telling the truth. I realized I was in love with you when all those kids were sitting in your lap. I could see our life together. And I wanted it, the kids, the white picket fence, the big house, you.”
“Bucky, I wanted all that with you too. Seeing you playing with those kids made me realize it too.” You sigh, feeling relieved to finally get it off your chest. His lips crash into yours, hands moving at lightning speed to remove all of your clothing. You’re under him in seconds, panting against his lips as he rubs himself against you.
Bucky moans as he sinks into you. He’s always known deep down you were made for him, now he has no choice but to accept it. “I’m so in love with you.” He tells you between thrusts. You claw at his back, his confession almost sends you over the edge. “I am so in love with you, Buck.” You kiss him gently. “Say it again.” He smiles, as you get lost in each other.
Tags
@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @queenshu
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marvelsmylife · 3 days
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Arranged marriage
Pairing: Eris Vanserra x reader
Plot: Eris (the new high lord of the autumn court) strikes a deal with Rhysand to marry you (Rhysand’s sister-in-law) to solidify an alliance between the two courts.
A/n my first Eris fic ! ! ! I hope you guys like it. Feel free to request him.
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When Rhysand asked you if you could do him a huge favor you never imagined the favor involved you getting married to Eris, the new high lord of the autumn court. He told you that he had his eyes on you ever since he met you during your trip, the court of nightmares a few days before the winter solstice. 
That was the day Nesta was supposed to seduce Eris, but his attention was only on you while you danced with Azriel. He was so hypnotized by your dancing that he interrupted your dance with Azriel.
Azriel wanted to protest. He saw you as a younger sister and felt compelled to protect you from males like Eris. Unfortunately, Rhysand told him to walk away and let Eris have his dance with you. He knew how important this alliance was for both of the courts, and Rhysand would stop at nothing to achieve it.
By the end of the night, Eris asked for your hand in marriage. Your sisters, along with Mor, Azriel, Cassian, and even Amren protested the possibility of you being married off to Eris. Mor was the most vocal about it, seeing as she had a volatile relationship with the new high lord of the autumn court.
Rhysand ultimately let you decide if you wanted to accept Eris’ marriage proposal, and to the shock of everyone, you accepted the proposal. You knew marrying Eris was a big risk, but you felt compelled to accept, especially after everything Rhysand had done for you and your sisters.
After months of planning, your wedding day finally arrived, and it was a big spectacle. 
Since you were marrying a high lord, your wedding was supposed to be over the top. You were the polar opposite and didn’t know what you were doing, so you let Eris’ mother plan the wedding and only showed up for dress fittings. 
You honestly didn’t know how, but you managed to get through the entire day without having an anxiety attack. It helped that Eris would rest his hand on your thigh and gently squeeze it to reassure you that everything was going to be ok.
Once the celebration ended, Eris brought you to your shared bedroom in your new home in the autumn court.
That’s when you decided to start undressing yourself in front of Eris. “What are you doing?” Eris stopped you once you began removing your undergarments.
“We have to consummate the marriage,” you replied and tried to remove your undergarments again, but Eris stopped you, “What’s wrong? Don’t you want this?”
Eris’ eyes softened at your words and engulfed you in a hug, “Yes, of course, I do, but not like this. I know you still don’t trust me, and I need you to trust me completely before we do anything physical.”
“I understand,” you started while pulling away from Eris and continued your previous actions, “But we have to, for our courts.”
Eris knew he should stop you, but as soon as you were bare before to him, his self-control disappeared. His primal urge to bed you took over, and before he knew what he was doing, he had you on the bed with him buried inside you.
Soft moans and heavy breathing filled the room as you and Eris became one. “Please don’t stop doing that. It feels so good,” you begged when Eris reached down and started playing with your sensitive clit.
Eris, for his part, was desperately trying not to cum. You felt so good around his cock that he had to think of the most disturbing thoughts to prevent him from cumming.
Unfortunately, he found himself cumming when he felt you gently biting his earlobe and tugging on his hair. “Fuck,” Eris cursed as he came inside you.
That, in turn, triggered your orgasm, and you found yourself digging your nails into Eris’ back as he kept moving inside you, “Oh gods, YES ! ! !” you held onto Eris as you came. A sense of pride washed over Eris as you held onto him and repeated his name. 
He typically rolls over and ignores females after they’re finished having sex with them, but with you, it’s different. Eris found himself kissing the top of your head before pulling out and lying beside you. You were getting up to clean yourself off but found yourself being pulled into his embrace, your back to his chest. “You are not allowed to leave this bed, not yet, at least,” Eris whispered as he held you possessively.
After a moment of silence, you decided to speak out, “My family might not trust you, but I do. I know you’re putting up a front like Rhysand did to protect his people. I know deep down you are a kind male who just wants to protect your court. I will stand by your side for as long as you want me.” 
That’s all Eris needed to hear before he got on top of you again, “That’s good to know, seeing as I have no intentions of letting you go. You will be the high lady of this court and rule this court for the foreseeable future,” Eris bent down and kissed you again. This time, it was sweet and gentle, unlike the kisses you exchanged while you fucked. He was showing you a side no one has ever seen before, and at that moment, you knew you made the right decision to marry him.
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kingdomofnoah · 2 days
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mine all mine
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noah sebastian x afab! reader
a/n: ayoooo! sorry for posting like one fic and then dipping for a while. he’s a smutty lil blurb for y’all’s enjoyment, idk why i spent 20 minutes making a header for it and named it after a mitski song leave me alone ok
anyway. warnings under the cut.
──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──
warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected penetrative sex, some light choking if you squint, swearing, dirty talk. that’s it i suppose
──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──
You’re trying desperately to catch your breath, but it’s stolen with every slam of Noah’s hips hard against yours. He traces his calloused fingers down your spine, your skin a bit tacky with sweat before he lands a harsh smack to your backside. Your gasp melts into a moan that makes him laugh behind you, his fingers gripping onto both of your hips and pulling you backward to meet his own. Your back arches, lifting your ass higher and allowing him to sink even deeper with every thrust. “Fuck, baby, this pussy was made for me. She’s all mine, huh? Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” You’re still breathless, your jaw slack as Noah continues his practically punishing pace. When you don’t answer though, he lands another smack to your ass and growls out, “I asked you a question, who does this pussy belong to?”
You cry out and scrabble at the sheets with your nails, sobbing out, “Yours! Fuck, Noah, it’s yours!” You would say anything to keep him inside of you at this moment, the dizzying mixture of pleasure and pain so sweet and addictive. A groan escapes him at your declaration, an uninhibited sound that shows you he’s just as desperate to stay inside of you as you are to keep him there.
Grabbing a fistful of your hair and the nape of your neck, Noah pulls you upward onto your knees so that your back is flush with his chest. The act changes the angle again, forcing Noah to thrust his hips upward against your ass. You nearly fall forward onto the bed again, but Noah’s tattooed hand wraps loosely around your throat, keeping you pressed back against his broad chest. You reach back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots to bring his face to yours. The angle of the kiss is almost uncomfortable for both of you, but it’s so desperate and wanton that neither of you care about the twinges of pain in your necks.
His pace is becoming irregular, a sure sign that he’s reaching his end. He knows this and uses his free hand to slide it down the tacky skin of your stomach and between your legs, swirling his middle digit around your aching clit. You whine wordlessly into the kiss and he curses against your lips, mumbling out sweet little praises into your mouth. Within mere moments, you’re hurtling toward the edge and fully willing to throw yourself into bliss. Noah can tell, somehow he always can, and he keeps the steady pace of both his thrusts and the swirls of his finger. He pulls his mouth from yours, eyes fluttering at your whimper at the separation, and tightens the hand wrapped around your throat. Groaning out a curse and your name, Noah’s hips falter as he grinds out, “You gonna cum? That’s it sweet girl, cum on it. Want it so fucking bad.” The term of endearment and the command is all you need, you cry out Noah’s name and throw yourself into the pulsing waves of pleasure. Noah groans again, his hand flexing on your throat and then his thrusts falter one final time, before he pulls out and spills across your backside. “Fuck, baby.” Noah laughs breathlessly, releasing your throat but letting his hand slide down to your sternum, keeping you upright still.
You’re boneless, you would collapse into a heap on the sheets if Noah wasn’t holding onto you so tightly, and you’re still reeling with ecstasy. Noah presses kisses along your bare shoulder and up your neck, his lips warm and you hum happily. You feel soft fabric across your back as Noah wipes his spend from your skin and you venture to twist your torso slightly to face him. His eyes are bleary, sleepy already, and you peck his lips with a kiss and murmur, “I love you.” The words are a bit slurred and you both giggle at your expense.
“My girl’s a lil cock drunk is she? Mmm, god I want you again already.” Indeed, you feel him twitch against your ass and you laugh, turn to face him fully, and cup his cheeks in your palms. He presses his lips to your palm, an act so tender your heart melts.
You smile and lean your forehead against his, “My big horndog, need food first, then I’ll ride you to sleep.” You promise and he grins, pecking your mouth and sliding his hands around your hips.
“Deal.”
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venuscameron · 8 hours
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can u write something thats based off the lyrics ‘that bitch could never be me in her life, that bitch could never be me in her life, that bitch could never be me in her life,’ and ‘you texting his phone while his face in my coochie’ with rafe??
this something i’d totally do, pls! but ugh i love this so much!!
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never be me. ┆ r.cameron.
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you’re laid back on his dark blue linen sheets, hair sprawled out in a tangled mess, letting out choked out moans and heavy breaths with his face buried between your plush thighs
rafe’s arms are wrapped securely around your legs keeping you in place, while your fingers are wrapped tightly around the roots of his dirty blonde hair, tugging on them harshly
“fuck-- right there!” you squeal as his tongue runs over your sensitive clit, causing your body to jolt forward
you’ve been going at it for awhile -- so long that your skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and you were breathing so heavily that your head was begging to feel light
rafe’s hands move over your stomach, his fingers locking together as he presses your body down to keep you steady on the mattress, “mm, yes!” you whine, your back arching slightly
you thighs squeeze around his head as your nails dig into his bicep as your chest rises and falls
rafe’s phone buzzes on the nightstand next to you which pulls you from your hazy focus of your boyfriend between your thighs
he lifts his head to look at you and you just shake your head back at him and use your hand on the back of his head to continue what he was doing
rafe’s quick to get back to his rhythm he had before you guys were rudely interrupted,
“taste so good,” he groans, “don’t stop, mm, shit,” you whine, your head gets lighter and you know you’re close, and just as you’re about to cum his phone rings
“fuck,” you sigh, “m’ sorry baby -- let me,” before he has the chance to finish his sentence you’re reaching your arm up and grabbing his phone from the nightstand
your breath hitches as he kisses your skin softly, dragging his tongue over your clit, “rafe,” you breathe, eyes fluttering closed as the thought of whoever’s spamming his phone this late began to dissipate,
but your pleasure was once again short lived as yet another text was sent, then another, and another, “fuck this,” you mumble, turning on his phone quickly typing in his password, his phone unlocking and opening to his messages
you look at the top message to see a name you recognized as ‘amelia’ a girl that’s been trying desperately to get rafe to fuck her since she moved to the islands -- rolling your eyes you click on her contact and see the past twenty messages of her trying to get his attention by spamming his name
and you can’t help but cringe at how unbelievably desperate she looks, you almost feel sorry for her, but the moment the typing bubble pops up all that pity for her disappeared
and before you could stop yourself, you open up the camera icon and hold the phone to the side, angling it to where only your thigh and half of his head was visible
rafe smirks seeing as his phone flashes, signaling that you took a photo, looking over it once more you smiled and clicked send, tossing his phone to the side
“now make me cum, please,” you begged, and rafe chuckled
“anything you want baby,”
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pennyellee · 3 days
Text
𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
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pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
chapter warnings (preview only): minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, incision wound, blood, suicide attempt, strong language, mentions of God, ...
beta read by @chaoticpuff17
word count: 583
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
author's note: well, yall, life is getting in my way, it's certainly keeping me from finishing this chapter, but it shouldn't be that long before I actually do. I wanted to drop a little preview before the sacred day I was born, which is tomorrow, 1-2-3 birthday depression. Enjoy the preview and stay tuned for the chapter. I'll be also answering some asks tomorrow, yes, i see them, and i love you all so so so so much, I just have very little of free time lately. See ya soon! lots of love, p. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆。˚⋆ฺ ♡🫧
m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII
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Time seemed to slow as Yoongi lunged forward, reaching out to stop her, but it was too late. The blade sliced through her skin, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as pain seared through her, her vision swimming with darkness. She felt Yoongi’s hands on her, his panicked voice calling out to her, but it was distant as if coming from a faraway place.
“Seokjin?!!” he shouted, his voice raw with desperation.
He cradled her in his arms, his hands trembling as he pressed against the wound, trying desperately to stem the flow of blood.
The sound of loud footsteps echoed in the corridor as others rushed forward to reach the doctor, their expressions a mix of horror and disbelief. But amidst the chaos, Y/N’s empty gaze remained fixed on Yoongi, her eyes still burning with flames.
“Stay with me, baby. Don’t leave me please.” Yoongi whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. He pressed his lips to her forehead, willing her to hold on, to fight for her life.
But as he looked down at her pale, lifeless face, he knew that the road ahead would be long and fraught with challenges. For now, all he could do was pray that she would survive, that she would find the strength to forgive him and that they would someday find their way back to each other.
“Please don’t take her away from me, my Lord.”
Yoongi prayed that it was not too late to save her from the darkness that threatened to consume them both.
One thing remained clear in Yoongi’s mind: he would do whatever it took to save her, to make amends for the pain he had caused, and to prove to her that his love was worth fighting for.
Yoongi’s voice cut through the turmoil, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness. He begged for her to forgive him, to give him another chance to make things right. No more secrets, no more lies. No more pain. He was willing to rebuild their relationship from the ground up, on a foundation of honesty and trust.
The metallic scent of blood mingled with the tang of fear, thickening the air with a palpable sense of impending doom. He ripped one of his sleeves a while ago, pressing the roughly crimpled fabric to the wound, praying that Seokjin was near. Or did anyone hear him scream frantically enough to relay the message?
“You can’t leave me, baby, please. I promise we’ll work everything through.”
He kissed and caressed her hair with his free hand which was covered with her blood. Tears blurred his vision as his hand trembled at the sight. A blood he never wished to shed.
“Please, Y/N, you have to forgive me.” The weight of his actions pressed down on him like a leaden blanket, suffocating him with the weight of his mistakes.
“Fucking goddammit Yoongi!”
Y/N set the plates on the table, pouring the hot water into a kettle of green tea as he joined her at the table. They exchanged smiles, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the kitchen and the windows providing a magnificent view of the sea.
“I’ve been thinking,-” she said with a smile on her face while she set the seaweed salad down in front of him. He hummed in response, reading today’s paper.
“About opening my practice.” He nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully.
“Thought you wanted to wait until the babe arrives?”
.
.
.
.
𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧
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©pennyellee. please do not repost
Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥
keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.
PS: accounts highlighted in pink cannot be tagged, so if you want to be in the tag list, please make sure you have it allowed in your settings. 𖦹 ☼ ⋆。˚⋆ฺ ♡
tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts @seonghwaexile
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vettelsvee · 3 days
Text
YOU SCARED ME | Lando Norris
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f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram
lando norris x reader
word count: 1955
warnings: accident on a race involving two drivers due to a collision. anxiety. use of y/n y/l/n
you can send your one shots requests here! feedback is truly appreciated! <3
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Lando Norris was locked in a tight battle, alongside Checo Pérez, for P8 in the Canadian Grand Prix. With each maneuver and overtaking attempt, the tension escalated throughout the race.
However, everything changed on lap 38 of that cloudy day in Montreal. As they approached one of the trickiest sections of the circuit, precisely where Carlos Sainz, Norris's former teammate, had crashed during Free Practice 3 the day before, there was a mechanical issue that affected Pérez's car. Trying to avoid losing control due to constant wheel vibrations that prevented him from securely holding it, Pérez instantly faltered.
Meanwhile, the McLaren driver, still unaware of the situation, attempted to overtake to avoid the collision, but failed miserably in the attempt.
Unable to prevent it, the vehicles violently collided nose-to-nose, immediately crashing into the safety barriers and scattering debris everywhere, including some larger pieces.
Both drivers were trapped, and although the Mexican responded immediately to Horner's calls, the British driver's situation seemed much worse. The race was immediately halted, signaling the seriousness of the situation with numerous red flags waving along the track as a warning to the rest of the grid.
Security personnel and medical staff immediately rushed to the scene to assist both men. Concern and silence filled the air as the rescue team worked, almost like robots, to extract the drivers from the wrecked vehicles.
The broadcast replayed the crash, which in slow motion was even more shocking; all spectators, both at the circuit and those watching from their homes, gasped at the incident as if it were the first time they had seen it.
At that moment, nobody knew what would happen to the McLaren driver.
While the track marshals worked swiftly and efficiently to secure the area, the papaya team members tried to calm each other's nerves. Especially affected was Y/N, the British driver's girlfriend, who anxiously watched, from the garage, not only the replay of the accident but also checked her social media accounts for any updates on her partner's condition.
For the time being, the situation was unknown, and it would possibly remain so for some agonizing moments more.
With glassy eyes, the girl held her mobile phone with one hand and tightly gripped the seat where she had been sitting just minutes before the incident with the other. The unease of seeing her boyfriend, motionless in his heavily damaged car, heightened her concern: her hands began to tremble to the point that her smartphone landed on the floor, and she noticed a growing anxiety that caused her to start hyperventilating.
Norris's race engineer, Thomas, tried, with increasing persistence, to elicit any sign of life from the brunette, but silence was the only response he received.
"Lando," the man said again, aware of the situation. "Copy? Please, answer."
As there was barely any response from the other end, Y/N's anguish grew with each passing moment. Her thoughts were becoming increasingly negative, reaching the point where she believed Lando had died instantly as a result of the collision.
Immediately, the girl took the man's headphones, quickly putting them on and speaking into the microphone as calmly as she could:
"Please, Lando..." she announced with a trembling voice, "answer. I need to know you're okay."
Once again, silence.
"Damn it!" she shouted, furious with the situation. "Doesn't anyone here know how to do their damn job?! Please, tell me if Lando is okay! It's not that hard, for God's sake..."
With tears in her eyes, Y/N fell to the floor, desperate at the lack of knowledge about Norris's condition. At that moment, Zak Brown approached her, trying to avoid physical contact at all costs, and assured her that her boyfriend was okay. He just needed some time to "get back to his senses."
Every second without a response from Norris felt like living a thousand lives.
Finally, after the engineer's constant insistence, a trembling voice came over the radio, echoing through the speakers in the garage for everyone present to hear:
"Yes... I'm here."
Lando's speech sounded quite weak, but understandable. Finally, Y/N could breathe a sigh of relief, although the anxiety had not yet dissipated.
“Norris, are you injured?" Thomas continued to ask. "Can you speak?"
"I'm... let's say a bit sore, but I think... I think I'm okay," the driver replied with difficulty. "The impact with Pérez was pretty strong, but I can move. I don't know what that bastard was thinking."
Brown thought to himself that Checo must have been thinking the same thing at that moment.
Once the race marshals ordered the paramedic teams to attend the guy and they took him to the medical wing of the paddock, Y/N quickly left McLaren's garage to approach the place where she might not be allowed to enter.
"Lando?" she asked, peeking her head between the medics surrounding the stretcher and the guards protecting the safety of the driver. "Lando, are you okay? It's me, Y/N!"
Lando, lying on the portable bed, was already conscious, although still dazed by the impact. With great difficulty, he sat up slightly and fixed his gaze on his girlfriend, giving her a weak smile. He also directed a few words to the police officer next to him; upon hearing the British driver's communication, the officer approached the crowd and gave permission for Y/N to enter, who ran to her boyfriend to make sure he was still there, alive.
"Oh God, darling," she whispered with a sweet but shaky voice, "you have no idea how scared I was. Seriously, it may sound like a joke, but I thought the worst..."
"Don't worry, you still have Lando Norris for a long time," reassured the doctor who was conducting his thorough assessment.
Although the race had ended for Lando, the well-being of his boyfriend was what mattered most to the girl. The same went for him, who was more concerned about the girl beside him than himself. He knew that his girlfriend must have been really distressed when she didn't get a response from him; at the same time, he knew that if he had been in her place, he would have been much worse off than her.
He knew Y/N was a really strong person, but this event had confirmed it.
"I'm okay, Y/N, I promise," Lando said, offering her his hand, which Emma took and held tightly.
"Now I'll be your personal nurse," she declared, trying to calm her boyfriend, who seemed to be enjoying and mischievously interpreting the situation with the mischievous smile he gave at that moment. "And no, we're not going to roleplay. It's surreal that you're thinking about sex when, literally, you could have died!"
"If you're afraid of dying, then don't be born, Y/N Y/L/N."
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squirmhoney · 23 hours
Note
aegon finding his niece naked in his uni dorm ready to seduce him because she heard a rumor that he has a girlfriend or something and reader does not like that at all and needs to remind him who he belongs to!!!!
Warnings: Obsessed reader. Incest. Anal play. A lot of smut. Overstimulation. Slight angst 18+ A/N: I hope you like this, I have also see your other ideas and love all of them. Currently halfway through the secretary x Aegon one which is defo my favourite one, I can’t lie ❤️
-
Niece!reader who can’t help but feel like you’re being strung along as you sip from your red solo cup. Your gaze darkening as you watch him smile at some random girl that his friends had pushed on him. You can’t help but grow jealous, not even paying attention to the guy trying desperately hard to get flirt with you. All that you can do is stand and stare, eyes watering until you feel so sick that you have to look away.
Niece!reader not knowing what else to do as you go to Aegon’s dorm, knowing you couldn’t just storm and claim him in front of everyone. You decide to just strip yourself of your clothes, sitting on your bed as you wait for him.
Niece!reader who’s literally in Aegon’s favourite lace thong when he gets in but he’s too busy panicking and stopping his frat friends from walking in to notice. He’s making up an excuse as he pushes them out the door, waiting a good few minutes after the door has shut before he turns to you. But he gets from the sad pout and the way you’re scrunching your face up, that you’re desperately trying hard not to cry. He knows not to question your intentions or get mad at you, only cupping your face as he brings his soft lips to the top of your head.
Niece!reader who is quick to question Aegon, accusing him of bringing another girl back or doing more with her then just talking. But he’s insistent he wasn’t, being honest and telling you that he was just being nice out of courtesy and the only people that came home with him were a few fat friends he was going to hang out with.
Niece!reader who tells Aegon he needs to make it up to you with a wicked smile, laying back on the bed as you open your legs. He’s so eager as he climbs on top of you, sucking at the skin that he kisses, leaving sloppy wet marks all over your skin. It’s not till he reaches your nipple he decides to give it a slight nibble, chuckling at the way you whine and buck your hips into him. He’s telling you to be patient as he presses your back down.
Niece!reader who can’t help but wrap your thighs around his head when he eats you out. you enjoy playing with his curls, twirling him around your fingers as you moan lowly. Aegon enjoys it all too, groaning at the taste of you as he sucks and licks to his pleasure, making a meal out of you as he brings you to your first orgasm of the night.
Niece!reader who wants to show Aegon that he’ll never find anyone better, sliding onto his cock with a deep moan from his lips. you take control completely, bouncing up and down on him just the way you know he likes it, tits in his face as you begs for his cum.
Niece!reader who grows tired after a while and lets Aegon takeover, being flipped over on all floors as he pushes your face into the mattress. He teases you telling you that you’re being too loud as he slams into your back side, making you drool into the pillow in front of you as you desperately try to keep your noise to a minimum. But he was only just joking even if he doesn’t want to say anything, so to get you to start screaming again he starts to toy with your asshole, using your slick to press his thumb inside your tight hole.
Niece!reader who becomes a whimpering mess when Aegon has you in mating press. Both of you a sweaty mess as he fucks his messy ropes of cum into your hole, you start to whine about how you can’t take it anymore but he’s not having any of it, telling your this is what you wanted. You can’t deny how sensitive you are at this point and you’re sure you might pass out if you have another orgasm.
Niece!reader who’s breathing finally settles when Aegon cleans you up with a towel, making sure to be gentle as wipes the load of cum dripping from your cunt. You're both sure that if you hadn’t been on contraception that you would have been pregnant by now because clearly Aegon didn’t know anything about pulling out.
Niece!reader who’s ducks underneath the blankets when Aegon gets a knock on the door, making sure no one can see it’s you as his neighbour asks him to keep the noise down. Aegon is polite, giving them a curt nod before closing the door and returning to the bed with you. He teases you about it as he wraps his arms around you, telling you that you really need to learn to be quieter otherwise you’re going to get you both caught.
Niece!reader who wakes Aegon up with his dick in your mouth, making sure that he knows who he belongs to as you lick a long stripe all the way from his balls to his head. you know how to play with him to have him weak in the knees, taking his balls into your mouth and sucking as you give his cock long strokes. you even lets him fuck into your mouth when he gets overly excited, sticking your tongue out and letting him the back of your throat, leaving awful lewd noises to fill the room. He’s literally shaking as he cums in your mouth, watching you with a hazy expression as you swallow his whole load with a smile.
Uncle!Aegon who tries to explain to his frat friend who lives two doors down about what happened that night but doesn’t need to when his friend gives him a knowing smile, saying that they stopped by an hour later and could clearly hear that he was occupied. Aegon laughs it off as they walk to classes together, not thinking anything of it until another friend approaches him, asking what his niece was doing popping by so early this morning, he’s quick to shrug it off, only for Aegon’s friend to give him a strange look as if he was putting the pieces together.
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simonrillleyyysss · 3 days
Note
Hi!! Idk if you inbox is open right now, but if they are I am begging on my hands and knees for something involving soft sex with soap and an s/o who’s having period cramps.
I firmly believe that even though he’s usually a bit more rougher with you, he’d literally be the sweetest, constantly asking if your alright and praising you for taking it so well, ignoring the mess that you both were creating; your arousal and blood staining the mattress below. Also think his aftercare would def be the best, cleaning up the sheets, giving you a bath and providing you with water and anything else you need before falling asleep together (I need him so badly ugh- 😩😩😩)
love this anon thank u :3
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soap is so tired and guilty listening to your complaints throughout the week, ur tummy hurts, ur boobs hurt..your head hurts, you’re just hurt overall! goddamn eve, why did she have to eat that apple? now his poor doll has to suffer the consequences of her actions.. sigh, he hates listening to you be sore and achey >:((
not to fret, he’s quick to suggest ideas—read up on articles lately while you two were cuddling and sappy, he was meant to be finishing work while you watched your show, head on his shoulder..but he had time to write up reports later, hm?
‘lookie..’
he quickly manuovered your hand onto his chest, lifting your free-ones pointer finger and dragging it along the screen, reading it aloud for you.
‘hai tae’ ease period cramps ae’home. google says..
blah blah…
apply heat tae yer abdomen..
engage in gentle exercise. ...
reach orgasm! see, sohen’ i could do tae help.’
you’re so quick to try and steer him away, trying to convince him it’s unsanitary.. but soon enough you’re convinced, letting him carry you upstairs, tug off your panties and let you get yourself ready, prepped and spread for him on the bed.
unsanitary? more like unholy to him, the way he doesn’t even bother to look at the blood while quickly prepping you with his fingers, making sure you aren’t wincing or in pain(you certainly aren’t.) and gently kisses your tummy while you gasp out and hum, tugging at his hawk.
‘oh—oh, wow. johnny, christ it feels even better than normal.’
‘aye? more?’
‘nhmhhhhmmmm.’
‘mon nai, use yer’ biggirl words.’
‘please.’
as soon as you’re assuring him you’re ready, he’s wiping the blood off of his fingers and stroking his veiny shaft, droplets of precum dripping from his intimidating head, pink and achey, slowly sliding himself into your ready cunny; your brows knitting together. sits for a bit,before placing his hands above your head and gently thrusting into you.
listens to your weak and embarassing cries, moaning and mewling into the thick air, scent of sex and blood twirling around the room, doesn’t take you long to cum, feeling him kiss and knead at your doughy, sore breasts and his cock brushing against your hot walls has you unraveling, back arching, unaware that your expensive sheets were covered in your pleasure and pain.
‘as’it lassie..takin’ me all, tell me if yer’ sore,.’
you’re shaking your head, trying to desperately keep his cock buried inside your hole, the scot above you growling in pleasure as he came inside of you, slowly pulling himself out to look at his masterpiece, thick droplets of white cum now mixing into a pale pink colour, your chest rising and falling with heavy pants.
let’s you do his face mask after your shared bath, massages you and gets you a hot water bottle for your abdomen, makes you watch a cheesy film..
‘if yer’ still sore intha’ mornin’, im’ offering tae help.’
‘it’s fine, johnny..’
‘jest’ use mae’ mouth next time.’
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melzula · 20 hours
Note
Heyaa, when the requests are open can you maybe do a princess x Zuko where the princess is always clinging to Zuko when she's cold? Just a random thought that came into my mind since Zuko is a firebender hehe :)
pairing: zuko x princess!reader
a/n: this is technically part of the fire lilies series but can also be read as a solo piece independently
summary: princess and zuko go penguin sledding
~ part of the fire lilies series ~
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The rush of cold wind against your cheeks is exhilarating as you glide down the snow covered hills. Your delighted laughter carries through the air and brings a smile to Zuko’s face as you enjoy a day penguin sledding out in the palace courtyards.
Being kidnapped by Gilak and having your life threatened once again had been a traumatic experience for both you and your boyfriend, so Hakoda and your mother had advised you take a much needed day off for yourself. He could handle the work of drafting plans for an eco friendly oil rig and the foreign embassies while Pakku and Katara took on the school for the time being. Though you were hesitant to take a day off knowing there was so much to be done, Zuko had been the one to finally convince you that you desperately needed a break.
Today would be his last day in the South before he had to return home, and so you figured the best way to spend your time together would be with a trip through memory lane. You hadn’t been penguin sledding together since you were kids, so it seemed like a good idea to both of you to revisit your favorite pastime from when you were children.
You slow to a stop as you reach the end of the hill and land onto the plush snow below you with a laugh. The chill of the ice sends shivers down your spine but you choose to ignore it. All the back and forth traveling you’ve been doing hasn’t allowed your body the chance to acclimate to the weather of your home yet, but you try not to let it bother you.
“Having fun?” Zuko asks with a laugh as he helps you up off the snow. You immediately cling to his figure in an attempt to steal some of his heat, prompting the Fire Lord to raise a brow as he wraps his arms around your frame. “You’re not getting cold, are you?”
“Of course not,” you scoff indignantly, though your subtle trembling says otherwise.
“Maybe we should head inside-“
“No!” You immediately cry out in protest before he can finish his sentence. “We’ve hardly just begun the day. Don’t you want to keep penguin sledding?”
“Of course I do,” he assures you with a comforting kunik, “but I worry the cold might be too much for you.
“Too much?! I’m Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, I don’t get cold.”
“Alright,” Zuko relents with a chuckle at your adamant rebuttal. For a water bender you’re surprisingly stubborn, but he loves your headstrong nature more than anything. “Let’s keep sledding.”
Your face lights up with glee when he finally relents and allows you to carefully pick up your penguin and carry him back up the hill while showering the creature with praises and pets. He’d forgotten just how much you enjoyed the activity, and it was nice to see that same smile from your childhood again. It had been years since you both went sledding, since you both were just two kids unaware of what the future held in store for you, since you both were free of fear and responsibility and hurt. The war had taken a lot from you, forced you both to grow up too fast, so he was grateful for the fact that you both could just be kids again, even if only for a day.
“Y/n,” Zuko calls as the sun begins to set and the day begins to end, “I think it’s time we head inside for dinner. Your mother said she was making five-flavor soup for us.”
“Just one more time down the hill?” You plead with your best pout, though you know it doesn’t take much to convince Zuko to give in to your requests.
“Alright, but that’s it,” he tells you with a chuckle before following you up the hill. The courtyard lanterns begin to glow beautifully below as the moon starts to overtake the sky, and you exchange playful smiles with one another before beginning your decent down the snow.
Zuko’s hair blows wildly away from his face, his grin the biggest you’ve ever seen it, and you’re so caught up in admiring him that you don’t even notice the large pile of snow you’re about to crash into.
“Princess, look out!” Zuko tries to warn you, but it’s too late. You can do nothing but pull the penguin to your chest and shield it from the impact as you collide into the snowy mound. The Fire Lord winces on your behalf before quickly rushing to your aid. The otter penguin emerges after a moment and shakes the snow off its body before waddling away, but you fail to do the same. Zuko has to dig through the slush to pull you out, and as he lifts you up and into his arms he’s able to feel just how cold to the touch you are.
“Th-Thhere’s s-snow e-every-wh-where,” you complain through chattering teeth as you wrap your arms as tightly around his neck as possible in a desperate attempt to feel his warmth.
“Let’s get you inside before you freeze to death,” he comforts while carrying your trembling figure back inside the palace. If not for Zuko’s body heat, you’d surely already be feeling the effects of hypothermia taking place.
Thankfully, your boyfriend is able to swiftly make it back inside the palace and carry you through the halls towards your room. The heat of Zuko’s embrace melts the ice inside your clothes, but the dampness only seems to worsen the feeling of cold. You shiver incessantly, and he can only look on guiltily as he tries his best to ease your discomfort.
Finally, he swings the door to your bedroom open and carefully sets you back on your feet before helping you remove your heavy coat. He sets the wet material aside to dry before coming up to your trembling figure and rubbing his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to spread heat across your limbs.
“I’ll go find your mother and tell her what happened. You stay here and get out of those clothes before you catch a cold,” he advises you with a meek smile, a red blush tinting his cheeks when he realizes he probably should have phrased his sentence more delicately. Zuko presses a tender kiss to your forehead before leaving to give you your privacy and shutting the door behind him.
Your skin feels like ice as you peel off the rest of your ensemble as quickly as you can. You were so used to beach days at Ember Island and swims in the lakes with your friends that you’d forgotten just how cold the water could be. Considering you grew up in the South, you’re a tad embarrassed to know how easily it gets to you now. You’d been away for so long, and even when you returned home you still found yourself venturing out often, so a part of you wondered if maybe you’d never fully readjust to the climate.
“Y/n?” A voice calls from the other side of the door followed by a gentle knock. “Zuko sent me to check on you. I have the warmest blanket I could find. May I come in?”
“Just a second, Mom,” you reply as you scramble to throw on a fresh set out of clothes and make yourself decent for visitors. After slipping into the warmest dress you can find, you open the door and allow her into your room.
“Someone got a little carried away penguin sledding, I hear,” she says with a teasing smile before draping the blanket around your shoulders. “You’re like ice! Thank spirits Zuko has that natural fire bending warmth to him or you might have frozen out there!”
“Yeah,” you murmur in agreement with a dejected frown, one that your mother notices right away.
“My little koala otter, what’s the matter?”
“I’m just a little embarrassed, I guess,” you admit with a sheepish laugh. “I thought I’d gotten over my aversion to the cold.”
“I think anyone who managed to get snow in their clothes would be cold,” she notes with a faint smile before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m just happy to see you having fun again. You had to grow up very fast, something your father and I should have worked harder to prevent, so it’s nice to hear your laugh again and see you sledding like you did as a little girl.”
You smile at her words before pulling her into a tight hug, hoping the action conveys all your appreciation for her. Zuko walks in then with a tray of steaming five-flavor soup and tea in the hopes it will return some of your warmth to you.
“I’ll let you both enjoy your dinner alone,” she says after removing herself from your embrace. Exiting the room, she pauses to give Zuko’s arm a light squeeze. “Make sure she stays warm.”
“Yes, Kira,” he replies with a nod before returning his attention to you. “Let’s get you settled in.”
Setting the tray aside, Zuko escorts you back to bed and tucks the blanket around your figure as best as he can with you sitting up. Once you’re comfortable, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead before handing you the cup of tea. It’s the same cup from the set Iroh had gifted you some time ago, and the sight of it brings a faint smile to your face as you take in the smell of jasmine.
“You’re already starting to feel warmer,” Zuko notes pleasantly before trading your cup for the bowl of soup. “I should have warned you about that pile of snow sooner.”
“It’s okay, I don’t regret a thing. I had so much fun today, the most I’ve had in a while. I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry,” Zuko assures you as he uses his bending to reheat your tea before it can grow cold, “the day will come where we’ll never have to be apart ever again.”
“I can’t wait,” you confess with a smile only for it to fall at the sudden sneeze that leaves you.
“I think you might be catching a cold, my love,” Zuko notes with a frown.
“Will you stay and keep me warm?” You ask with a pleading look, one that makes it impossible for him to deny your request. How could he say no to your sweet face?
Climbing into bed with you, Zuko envelops himself around your figure and allows you to steal his warmth. He’ll never get tired of being your personal heater, and he’d be happy to spend the rest of his days like this.
You’ll never reacclimatize to the cold, because no matter where you go, Zuko will always be there to bring warmth to your life.
| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @aerikim246 @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em
| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch @rinalsword @cipheress-to-k-pop @potato87123
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starryhutcherson · 2 days
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hii, hru?
i have an idea for another clapton davis one shot:)
what if the reader is an spanish girl and she help clapton with his spanish homework but one thing led to another and yk it ends in smut
- 🫧
━━ NO HABLO ESPAÑOL
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'୧ ‧₊ pairing: clapton davis x spanish-speaking!reader warnings: 18+ sexual content! oral sex (m!recieving), come swallowing, mentions of p in v, swearing, google translated spanish word count: 3300+ ⋆ ✩‧₊
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Clapton’s bedroom is drowned in the drowsiness of a late-afternoon heat; the sunshine bleeds against his scattered memorabilia, stretching beams across the floor and illuminating the entire space in a picturesque light. It’s hot, too hot — sweat settles on your starfished body as you lie sprawled atop his carpet, surrounded by stationery and permanently tainted with a subtle flush of rose. 
Initially, he’d intended for this to be no more than a harmless study session — he was god awful at spanish, and you were a fluent speaker. You just happened to be unfathomably drop-dead gorgeous. It was pure coincidence, of course it was. 
He’d erupted in an animated grin when you’d agreed to help him, teeth gleaming in a wide display of genuine gratitude – he wasn’t entirely sure of the appeal of helping your friendly-but-not-a-friend classmate with their spanish homework, especially due to his apparent lack of intelligence — but you agreed all the same. You had your reasons, even if he didn’t know them. 
What he does know is that he’s struggling. With the Spanish, sure, though that wasn’t much of a surprise — he’s also struggling not to seize hold of you, hands splayed against your skin, taking you right here on this fucking carpet. The eye contact you’re maintaining is dangerous; that damn cloying smile, those saccharine sentences – the impact it has on Clapton is enough to shatter bullet proof glass and he’s not sure he'll be able to rope his caveman brain out of the gutter. Your voice is so sweet he swears it’ll give him cavities. 
“Alright, translate this one. Tomé al autobús.”
His forehead creases with concentration, trying to focus on the meaning of your words, and not the simmering spike of dry heat that spirals in his throat and his crotch. He narrows his eyes, inhaling a breath as if about to answer, but after a delayed moment all that escapes is a dejected huff.
“I got nothing.”
You tut at him disappointedly. “C’mon. We just did this one.”
He tries to think back, but it’s hard to cast his mind to one single moment with you, because every minute seems to blur hopelessly into the next one. Concentration is impossible when you’re this close to him, when he can hear every breath of yours like they’re his own, when his head is full of filthy fabrications in which your velveteen voice screeches while he slams into your g-spot with lethal precision. 
Get a grip. He swallows around the presence of nothing and tries to hold the crumbling pieces of his facade together. 
It isn’t working. 
“Uh, no we didn’t,” he teases slyly, attempting to reach for your own sheet, which is already full with all the answers. You snatch it away from his desperate hand, swatting his palm for emphasis. The desultory touch shouldn’t mean as much as it does. 
“Yes. We did. C’mon. I’ll give you a hint— bus.”
He does light up with a fraction of recognition. “Oh, shit, yeah. I got it, it’s uh— I’m gonna take the bus?”
You let out another dissatisfied hum. “Not quite. It’s I took the bus. Past tense.”
He rolls over onto his back with a tediously drawn out groan. “That’s like, the exact same thing, c’mon.”
“Uh, no it isn't. If someone asked you how you got home, you’d say “I took the bus,” not, “I’m taking the bus.” You taunt, a mocking twinkle in your eye that renders his body weak with desire. 
“Uh, actually I wouldn’t say either, because I get home by car.”
With mild amusement you roll your eyes, and Clapton’s head wanders yet again, to venereal visions where that eye roll is taken far out of context — right now, spanish isn’t the only thing that’s hard.
“These entire sentences are too hard to translate. Just gimme some words.” 
You scoff at his swift abandon, but you do oblige, reaching across yourself to grab the standard textbook for the grade, idly flipping through a few pages before finding something you deem to be his level. 
It’s a basic configuration of nouns, English situated on one side of the page and Spanish on the other; the lists are out of order and the goal is to match up each pair with the correct translation. You figure with a bit of your help, it’ll be easy enough. 
“Here,” you say, handing him the textbook. He hauls himself back to his prior position on his stomach, snatching a pen, examining the page, and then staring back up at you blankly. 
“C’mon, what am I, a kindergartener?”
You snort, shuffling marginally closer to him so that your shoulders just barely collide. The contact is faint, sure, but it’s enough to make his mind warp. Maybe his desire for you isn’t so one-dimensional. 
“I know it looks easy, but it’s about the words, Clapton, not the activity.” 
“Well it’s dumb. I liked the other stuff better.”
“You asked for this. Start matching.” 
He glares at you through narrow eyes, a semblance of their hazel hue present through the gap in his lowered eyelids — the irritation doesn’t last long. Not when his gaze meets yours and he can feel the gentle wash of your breath against his lips, dainty and dangerous simultaneously. He’d swallow it if he could; preserve the very flavor of your exhales straight from your lips to his. 
An obvious spill of crimson fragments blossoms against the dermis of his cheeks, every moment he spends around you is like being bathed in incandescence, like being roasted from the inside out. He’s a moth and you are a painfully hot flame. 
His eyes stray downwards in a weak attempt to hide his blush, grumbling to himself before beginning the work. He makes it through one and a half questions before he inevitably gives up for the second time. 
“This is too hard,” he admits. 
"Thought it was for kindergartners." You chuckle, to which he mumbles a low, "Shut up."
A measly moment passes before he's hit with an idea. "Let me test you."
"Seriously? You know I'm fluent. That'd be like me testing you on English."
He chuckles to himself, the smug sound leeches to the atmosphere and sends a fresh swarm of butterflies to thrash amidst your stomach lining. He’s too tantalizing for his own good, he’s your forbidden fruit. You’d love a taste. 
“Pretty confident then, huh?” 
The delicate development of his smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you; it’s hot, the way his bottom teeth are just partially visible by the action, the way his eyes glitter with the promise of a challenge and his demeanor is altered from defeated to determined in one brief snapshot of a moment. 
“Seeing as I’ve grown up speaking Spanish, uh, yeah. I’d say I’ve probably got this in the bag.” 
His grin flourishes exponentially. “We’ll see about that.”
✩‧₊˚
Four minutes later, Clapton’s master plan at veering the pair of you away from doing the work is proven to be pointless — his assumption in which he could find some big word to stump you was dismissed after witnessing your effortless answers. 
“Sun?” “Are you kidding? Sol.”
He glances up from the textbook, where all of the answers are, huffing a little and searching for something more difficult. 
“Gimme something harder.” He can think of something harder. 
“Okay, okay. Uh… dance?” 
“Bailar,” you say, rolling the ‘r’ with a tantalizing flick of your tongue and he’s sure that by now the tightness in his jeans is obnoxiously prominent. “Seriously, these are so easy.”
“Okay, full sentence: “I’m gonna buy a coffee.”
“Hmmm… let me think,” you say mockingly, and he almost believes he’s got you until you answer with a mirthless chuckle: “Voy a comprar un cafe.”
A dull ache burns in his pants, even the most mundane sentences sound sultry when you use that tone. That fucking tone. He’s still minutely annoyed that you answered his questions with ease, but what did he expect, really? This was your language. 
“These are the simplest questions ever. You really underestimate me.” 
He snorts at this. It was impossible to underestimate somebody like you. He knows that much. 
“I don’t. Trust me.”
A sideways glance, a furrowed brow. You seem to dismiss the comment – it looks that way to him, at least. He’s unaware of the internal screams that loop in your head, cacophonous to the drill of your pounding heartbeat. He really knows how to throw you off your game, after all. 
He clears his throat at the lack of response, endearing albeit the awkwardness. “What even are these words anyway? They don’t even sound anything like the Engish version. I mean— Patio-day-jaygoes?” He flicks his eyes over some of the words in the textbook; his over emphasized, americanized interpretation of the syllables makes you chuckle. 
“Patio de juegos. It means playground— and I already told you that ‘j’ in spanish is pronounced like ‘h’ in english. Y’know. Heart. Hat. Hole.” 
“Doesn’t make any fucking sense. Like, look at this– Zapaytoes?”
“Zapatos. Shoes.”
“Days-fil-e?”
“Desfile. Parade. You really do suck at this.” He scoffs, but you can see the humor buried beneath his irritated disposition. “I told you that like a thousand times. Bay-so?”
“Beso. Kiss.”
Shit. He can feel the color prick his cheeks before your words even truly compute with him. There shouldn’t be any meaning behind them; just a simple definition. No hidden feeling lurking beneath your shallow translation. 
Right? 
Wrong. 
He has an idea. He wants to be cocky. Every single splintered thought is you, you, you, and he feels like if an opportunity presents itself he’d be an idiot not to take it. He wasn’t going to be an idiot. Not today. Not with you. 
“Oh. So… just out of, y’know, curiosity… how would you say, ‘I want a kiss?’”
His ulterior motives soar above your head – you’re so ingrained in helping him that you fail to recognise his confident grin. 
“Puedo tener un beso.” You reply, eyes combing through the familiar words etched against the textbook pages, completely oblivious. A beat of silence falls, a second of hesitation, before he goes in for it.
“Si, si. Uh… si puedes. ” Yes you can. He grins, clearly a little proud of himself.
If you’re being honest, it’s pretty cheesy, what with his eager eyes and butchered pronunciation. At least he’s trying — scraping together his kindergarten-level dialogue to form a simple sentence, and it’s sort of sweet, you think. 
“Was that a sincere offer?”
No harm in asking, right?
“Was it a sincere question?” He fires back instantaneously. 
And oh, he knows it wasn’t. You were merely answering a question, following the sound of his voice and the way it rose and fell like pebbled leather – but his taunting is tantalizing. Your desire is hungry and he offers to feed it – and why would you refuse?
He tastes sweet. Barely a moment of brevity was able to pass before your lips cradled his, sucking and soaking the flavor of lingering soda straight off his teeth. His tongue is his weapon of choice, breathlessly exploring the cave of your mouth, trying to mold himself right into your gums. 
His hands roam, up and down your figure, eventually settling on either side of your waist and thumbing circles into your hip bones, it’s sexy. Just as he is. 
You crook your head to alter the angle and he moans, completely unabashed, the sound passes through his mouth and into yours, and you know his mind is following the same dirty pathway as yours.
You tear away from him, reveling in the way he pants like a wounded dog, the way he struggles to leave your lips as if he’s magnetized to them. 
“I think I know how to help your spanish…”
“Mmm?” He tries to sound like he’s in control but it’s a vain and vacuous attempt. It’s cute. 
You don’t offer a response, but your fingers traipse lower, beyond the region of his shirt’s hem and dipping beneath his waistband. You glance at him, eyes seeking consent. He nods, words failing him as your fingers find his buttons and begin to tug. 
When his denim restrictions pool around his ankles, you guide him to sit on the edge of his bed – his thighs are quivering in anticipation and a saturated spill has soaked his boxers, where the defined shape of his dick has begun to show. 
You grab the spanish textbook from beside you before spreading his legs with your hands. Your pace is agonizing. 
“C’mon, you’re killing me,” he croaks, eyes struggling to stay on you with the weight of this moment heavy on his shoulders. 
You have a spark in your eyes, one that’s ignited and waiting to devour – your thumb encircles his clothed tip and a shudder licks at the base of his spine. His twitching hands come to rest in your hair, interlacing with a grip that stings like rope burn – you’re not opposed to the pain. It’s proof of his lack of control over himself, and the thought itself is enough to make you, in turn, shudder as well. 
“You— fuck. You’re totally evil.” 
A few painful moments of you tracing him through the fabric and he’s getting a little bit frenzied – his jaw is uncomfortably taunt and his hold on your hair is only growing tighter. You decide to indulge his whispered pleas. 
Your hands shift from their position splayed on his thighs and delve into his boxers, making a show of drawing them down his legs until they join his jeans at his feet. His cock’s hard, weeping as he writhes with want. He thinks if you don’t do something, he’ll actually die. Just something. 
“Can you— ah– just do something?” His voice sounds scratchy, punctured by his longing. 
“Ask me in spanish.”
“What?” He’s maybe a little delirious, what with all the blood leaving his head. 
“I’m here to teach you, Clapton.” Your devious grin sends him reeling— his cock shivers with him as he scrambles to open the textbook, trying to find some stupid page that’ll give you what you want. 
He thinks it’s cruel, dangling yourself in front of him like this, mocking him every minute that those decadent lips aren’t wrapped around him. He wonders what Spanish would sound like when it’s muffled by his cock. 
Your hands, callous-free and creamy with the vestige of vanilla lotion, inch gradually upwards along his thighs, enjoying the way their feather-light touches cause tension to erupt across his nerves. He’s trembling in the mid-may heat. 
“Uh— fuck— por– por fay– por-far-vor pay-paydo tenarlo?” You can barely understand the massacred words, and when you do— por favor puedo tenerlo— you deem it to be a little vague. But at least he’s trying. He just needed some motivation. 
When you finally allow him solace in the comfort of your mouth, he goes a little dumb. His jaw slackens with an audible sound as his tongue falls from the roof of his mouth — he was previously rolling it around to try and find any remaining taste of you. He was unsuccessful, of course, but it didn’t matter anymore. 
Not when his cock was buried in the narrow channel of your throat, not when you’re groaning against him as his weight settles against your lapping tongue, not when your teeth graze along his shaft and his hips wildly buck off his bed. It’s so filthy, but it’s everything he needs. 
“Shit— shit, that’s good, yeah, just like that. Fuck that’s— ah!” 
His English is nearly as bad as his Spanish right now, and can you blame him? With every trembling buck forwards he’s thrown deeper into your mouth, your trachea, all accompanied by that greedy glint of lust in your eyes that’s damn near tangible. 
His eyes are rolling backwards, up into the depths of his skull so all you can see are the alabaster parts of his sclera. Your own eyes are misty; soaked with spills of tears that taste like a reward, a reminder of your efforts. He’s breaking and it’s all because of you. 
“Holy fuck,” he rasps, his hands still settled in the roots of your hair. This might not be his first blowjob, but it’s certainly his best one. 
His length prods deeper, bruising at the palate of your mouth, drooling pre-cum around your gums, sousing them in his salty scent. You fall into a rhythm and he falls into you, teetering on the brink of bliss with every prolonged suck that you give him. 
By the time his edge is impending, his cheeks are kissed with stains of vivid cherry red, hair is tousled and slick with sweat, and he’s managed to regain control of his rolling eyes, keeping them trained on your figure with a bout of concentration. Good. 
Your lips leave him, just for a moment, matching your previous pace with your hand and ignoring the desperate whine he emits from the action. 
“You gonna come?”
He looks almost ashamed, as if the prospect of it occurring so early is anything but what you wanted. 
“Well – yeah. Yeah– fuck— if you, if you keep going like that, then yeah.”
His voice cracks like distant thunder and his body bites back another pitchy whimper. 
“You gotta ask nicely.”
The words sound a little foreign as you spit them from your mouth, but you’re too stuck into the experience to care. Your hand chafes against him with the dry friction, and he yearns for your lips once more. In this sticky-sweet moment, he thinks he’d do anything for them back. 
“Please. Please– please, I gotta, you gotta just–”
You interrupt him with a tut. “In spanish.”
En español. 
He fumbles for the book, his hands sliding from your hair with a begrudging expression – he can’t stay infuriated for long though, not when you're subtly slinking your head back to nuzzle his tip. Fuck. 
“Por— por favor.” 
His docility is almost pathetic. 
“Por f– fuck, do I really gotta– ah– do this?”
When your hand threatens to leave his cock completely, the panic he exudes is nearly comical. He’s been wanting this for so long, he’s not losing it now.
“Okay, okay! Por favor, por— shit– por favor. P– yeah, that’s it, you’re so good, so hot, shit—”
His endeavor is ultimately scrambled when your mouth makes its return around him, and you know the moment his eyes begin to lose their focus that he’s gone. You let his consciousness leave, with every desperate thrust into your throat, with every dulcet whimper – your hands extend to fondle his balls and ultimately he’s nudged off into the void of blissful oblivion, by you and you alone. 
His wail is weak but encouraging as he comes, polluting your throat with opalescent ribbons, he tastes like seaside salt and everything you’ve been missing. Indulgent. His shattered voice is the most gratifying sound, incomprehensible praises clotting between his lips and washing over you, and you bask in it. 
You're battered and probably bruised, your jaw aches and your knees are raw, but it was all for a good cause. Seeing him like this, quaking with the pleasure that you carved into him— maybe it’s the orgasmic haze but Clapton swears you’re glistening in the afternoon sun. An angel on Earth. 
Un ángel en la tierra. 
You don’t end up leaving his house that night — instead you lie against the quiet ebb of his heartbeat, tangled in his sheets and woven into his arms where you rightfully belong. His homework still isn’t done, his room carries the scent of sex and sweat and all things filthy, but neither of you have the cognitive ability to worry about it. 
So, you sleep; rocked into exhaustion and sharing a pillow. Your flesh sears as his gentle hands stroke it, he can feel your smile as it forms against his chest. 
Aquí es donde usted pertenece.
reminder, my requests are always open
✩‧₊˚
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pandorasfavorite · 2 days
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His Little Girl
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AN: First post of the day, definitely not the last. ^Him blowing a kiss to you and his little girl.
“Are you gonna win Papi?”, his daughter blubbers while looking up at him from her spot on the side of his hip. “I’m gonna try for you mija”, Dominik says before kissing the top of her head and passing her back to you. Your daughter clings to you and lays her head on your shoulder with a sleepy smile. It was past her bedtime but Dominik wanted her to watch. He had been waiting many years for his daughter to finally be old enough to understand that her daddy was not actually getting injured at work. She knew that it was just going to look like it. Or at least that’s what Dominik and you told her.
So when it’s time for Dominik’s match, and his music blasts all he can think of is where you guys are standing. Turns out (by the sounds of his baby girl's squeals of joy at seeing him), you were both on the right side of the ring. Dominik got in the ring with a scowl but subconsciously his eyes softened at the sight of you both, he was sure everyone could tell. So he turned his head away from you both as quickly as he could manage, though it did take a while. Your daughter was practically trying to lunge over the barricade to her dad and would whine when he would walk to the other side of the ring.
You loved that she was a daddy’s girl because you loved your husband just as much as her. Dominik hastily blew you both a kiss and went back to waiting for his opponent and entertaining the crowd until then. Through the opponent's intro, her eyes only flickered to Andrade for a second before she was back to staring at Dominik. But when the match starts she is instantly angry when Dominik takes his first hit to the chest. She whips her head up to look at you with a pout and a wobbling lip. You shush and bounce her on your hip; whispering to her that it's okay; that it isn't real. No matter how well you convinced her, Dominik was selling so well that it was nearly impossible for it to seem true. The next move was a kick straight to Dominik's stomach and with that, he doubled over and fell to the floor clutching his stomach.
Your daughter busts into tears so loudly, the camera surely picked up on it. Nearly everyone was turning to see what the commotion was while you were trying to console her the best you could. But at this moment, only her Papi would be able to make her feel better truly. Andrade takes advantage of the distraction and plummets into Dominik again; his wispy hair flies back with his head and Dominik rolls to the side and groans. While he was in just mild pain; his eyes were pinned onto his sobbing baby who was desperately reaching out for him. And there was you with a worried look trying to calm her down and get all the eyes away from your daughter. His baby had waterfalls flowing down her cheeks with a trembling lip.
Dominik couldn't take her tears any longer, he hated it when his little girl cried. In fact when she first got her ears pierced; and he held his baby girl in his lap when they pierced a hole into her little ears; she screamed and sobbed like no other. Dominik was so pissed he was glaring daggers at the piercer and you for even insisting on getting done in the first place. He held his baby tight and gritted his teeth through every sniffle and sob. So of course right now it was driving him to the brink of his mental bridge to not go and get her.
Dominik stood up with all his strength, backhanded Andrade, and slammed him on the ground. All just before he slid out of the rings and walked towards you both with his usually confident stride. He stood in front of the barricade that was separating you guys and he let his little girl hold onto his pinky finger. "I'm right here mi hija, I'm okay baby", he spoke to her in the softest voice he could muster in the moment. Though everyone watching cooed at the sweet moment from the biggest heel in the industry. When he heard their coo Dominik was forced to turn and glare at them rudely (he was still at work after all). Dominik saw Andare from the corner of his eye; it was instinct to keep an eye out after all.
Dominik kissed her on the head and moved his pinky out of her grasp, he told you to take her backstage. He had to deal with Andrade before it was possible to be with you both. Dominik knew he had to make this match quick.
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fortisfilia · 3 days
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Promised Part 14 - Tom Riddle x reader
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Info: This is a rewrite of a story I've posted on my old account years ago. If it sounds familiar, that might be why :)
Summary: In this story, Tom didn't grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader's sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.
Warnings: Arranged marriage
Word count: 3.6k
Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 13 | Part 15
Part 14 - Gaunt Manor
The weeks after Nagini had shed and you had added her skin into the antidote got more and more exhausting. The potion needed tending up to twelve times a day now and unfortunately, you didn’t own a time turner. Both Tom and you had not gotten a full night’s sleep in a while and it started to show. Every day that went by seemed to last for an eternity while the circles under your eyes carved deeper and deeper by the minute.
The curriculum had gotten more challenging, as the teachers were preparing their students for the N.E.W.T.s. Homework was harder and more time-consuming than in the years before and you had to study for hours afterwards as well. These things alone were enough to wear out most students from year seven. Because of that, thankfully no one got suspicious of how drained you looked. Except for Camille. She had started to ask a lot of uncomfortable questions whenever you had left to take care of the potion. She knew you too well. Sneaking out every two hours to go to the Come and Go Room on top of your studies and school work had drained you to the point where you must have looked like a walking corpse.
One day, when Professor Leveret dismissed you after an exceptionally long Astronomy lesson in the late evening, you had reached your breaking point and were on the brink of tears, pondering about failing every single subject at the end of the term. There was little to no energy left inside of you. So little, you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry, but merely stared into space with reddened eyes and parted lips. Tom brought you to his room that night and went to the Come and Go Room alone. And when you were in bed, you were too tired to fall asleep. You never knew that was even possible. But once you weren’t distracted anymore, your mind started to wander. It was impossible to keep up with everything at once. You would either fail your N.E.W.T.s or spoil the potion. The latter would be worse of course and for no price would you let your sister down, so you mentally prepared yourself to leave Hogwarts without graduating. Oh, there were the tears. Finally. They ran and flowed along with hollow sobs and wouldn’t stop now that they were coming. 
What if the Gaunts were so appalled by your failure that they would call the wedding off before you could cure Elsie? They could easily paint you as a disgrace for not completing school and make your sister pay for it. No matter how it would turn out, they would take it out on her. The plan had worked so well until now and yet you were still desperately trapped inside Marvolo’s web. 
Half an hour must have passed when Tom came back. The cushion beneath you was damp from the tears that had rolled down your cheeks and you held your breath to prevent another whimper from escaping your mouth. You hastily wiped your face and turned your back on him, trying to breathe slowly and act as if you were asleep. But he noticed, of course. And even his well-chosen words of comfort couldn’t ease your mind. You couldn’t let yourself fall into his touch and allow yourself to drift off to sleep because you knew that in two hours, the circle would start once again.
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The next day, when you sat on Tom’s sofa together to study for Transfiguration, and you had just started reading the same paragraph for the third time since you just couldn’t concentrate, it just rolled off your tongue.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Tom looked up from his book. “What, the twentieth chapter? I just-”
“No, not this,” you sighed and threw your book on the coffee table. “I mean everything. This whole situation. It’s too much.”
“Well,” he said and laid his book aside too. “It certainly is a challenging time. The N.E.W.T.s, the schoolwork and the antidote.”
Challenging was an understatement. “I just need a full night’s sleep, or two. And you do too. We need help, it’s inevitable.”
“Help?” he asked, brows raised. “What do you have in mind? Ask Hilt to look after the potion?” His expression changed once he had seen how you shifted. “No. Don’t tell me that’s what you were thinking.”
“I thought about asking Camille for help. She wouldn’t tell anyone and she’s always been great at Potions,” you explained. “And then I thought, Ben would ask her where she’s going all the time. He wouldn’t leave her alone anyway. So I considered telling them both.”
Tom looked like he had been petrified for a second, not moving a muscle. “But you’d have to tell him about the pact.”
“I know.”
“That’s what he was after since the beginning.”
“Yes. But I think we can trust him.”
“You think?” he asked. “Why, because he’s stopped Freda’s quill? That’s enough to gain your trust?”
“It’s not like we have a lot of options, Tom,” you replied, slowly but surely getting annoyed by his constant suspicions. “Camille wouldn’t be with him if he was a snitch.”
“We will just plan better. It won’t be easy, but we-”
“No. This is too much work for two people. Just look at us. We’re both barely keeping up. It won’t be long until we’re completely worn out. We need help.”
Tom’s brows were furrowed, still not convinced even if he understood. You stretched out your hand towards him and waited for him to hold it. “If we don’t ask for help we’re going to mess up. I’ll either fail my N.E.W.T.s or the antidote won’t be finished. No matter what happens, Elsie will pay for it. Please.”
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Camille and Ben looked at Tom and you like you had both lost your minds when you took them to the seventh floor. They had asked so many questions on the way there, but you were far too tired to answer them all. Besides, they would just be able to see for themselves in a bit.
When you arrived, you said to them once more, “I’m going to show you something now. And it is unbelievably important that you understand this needs to stay between us. No one else must know.”
Camille and Ben nodded, both with serious and still confused looks o n their faces.
“And might I add,” Tom said as he looked directly at Ben. “That my memory charm is very powerful. If you can’t keep your mouth shut I’ll obliviate you and I might even make you forget that you have magic running through your veins.”
Ben nodded again. “Alright mate, I got it.”
The door to the Come and Go Room appeared and the two wore the same expression that you must have had when you had first seen it. 
“Come in,” you said as you opened the door.
The room was a bit tight with the four of you in there. You stirred the liquid inside the cauldron like you did each time while Ben and Camille looked around curiously. 
“A potions room?” Camille asked once the door had been closed. “Now, can you please tell us what’s going on?”
You looked at Tom, who stared back at you, lips pressed together and still unsure if what you were about to do was a good idea. But still, he nodded. He had every right to be suspicious, you had to admit now that you had brought them there. But Camille was to be trusted and frankly, you were far too tired to think of any consequences.
So you began to tell them everything from where it all had started, a day before the school year, at your house. Camille knew half of the story already, but once you told them about the Gaunts and that they were the ones who had cursed Elsie, she stood there wide-eyed, just like Ben.
“And this is why I wanted to ask you both for your help with the potion,” you said once you had told them every detail. “If you don’t mind of course. If you’re willing to help, everyone would just have to come here three times a day. That would make our lives a lot easier.”
They didn’t even need to look at each other and nodded right away.
“Of course,” Camille said. “It all makes sense now. Oh, you must be exhausted. Twelve times a day?”
“I can come more often if you want,” Ben chimed in. “I don’t have as much to do as you, my N.E.W.T.s are still a year away and I wouldn’t have bothered studying much this year anyway.”
“What a surprise,” Tom muttered, even though there was a hint of a smirk on his face.
“One more question,” Ben said. “What about the last ingredient? Banshee tears you said, right? Where are you going to get those?”
“Well. That’ll be the final obstacle.”
“My uncle owns a flask,” Tom explained. “He and my Grandfather will be out next week and we’ll go and try to get them. Our house-elves will be on high alert however, so it’s going to be risky.”
“So,” Ben said. “When are we going?” 
“We?” Camille and you asked simultaneously.
“You can’t sneak your way in anyway with the elves around, right?” he said. “Four people are a better distraction than two. I’m in.”
“You weren’t even invited in,” Tom said.
“I don’t care,” Ben shrugged. “I’m still in if you need me.”
Tom sighed as he walked in circles around the cauldron, his hand covering his mouth while he considered Ben’s offer. “As much as I hate to admit it,” he then said. “I think you might be right. A distraction could be of benefit.”
“See?” Ben chuckled. “The muggleborn isn’t that dumb after all.”
“Oh brush off the arrogance, Hilt. We don’t have the flask yet.”
“Boys, please. Let’s discuss that another time and let me show you how to tend to the potion.”
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You spent the following week planning for Saturday, when the Gaunts would leave their manor to attend the honouring of the Order of Merlin. You had also gotten some most needed hours of sleep. Not only that but just knowing that Camille and Ben were taking some weight off your shoulders made it much easier to concentrate on school and homework as well. 
On Saturday evening, when you met at the school‘s fireplace connected to the Floo-Network, you went over your plan again.
“And don’t forget,” Tom said. “There are two house-elves. They’re loud, but not very bright. Much like some Gryffindors.”
Camille stifled a laugh and looked over to Ben.
“Mate,” Ben replied. “Can you stop bullying me? I’m helping you out here.”
“Sorry,” Tom answered and bit the inside of his cheek. “I was just joking.”
“Oh yes. Riddle’s first joke in eighteen years and of course I take the fall.”
“Guys,” you scolded. “Get it together. Do you remember everything?”
“Yes,” Camille replied. “We are Theresa Carrow and Connor Prewett, your new and very pureblooded friends. We’ll be distracting the house-elves while Tom and you look for the flask. Once you got it, Tom will obliviate them and we'll come right back here.”
“Alright then,” you said as you watched Tom disappearing inside the fireplace. “See you there.”
The green flames consumed you whole once you let the Floo Powder fall and transported you swiftly to Gaunt Manor, where you found yourself in a dark hallway, the reception hall, perhaps. 
Tom was there already and offered his hand for you to step out of the fireplace. Camille came next, followed right by Ben. Before you could say anything, you heard two raspy, high-pitched voices coming your way.
“Who is it?” one voice asked. “Master? Is it you?”
“Show yourselves,” the other voice croaked and the elf snapped her fingers, making all the candles around the room light up. It still was dim, but you could see them a bit better now. Both of them were wrinkly and old, their faces scrunched up in suspicion. They didn’t look like the elves at your home but were hunching and worn out, completely different to Tummy. The male elf, Scrook, missed a large piece of his left ear and the female one, Hokey, walked with a severe limp.
“Master Riddle,” Scrook said once he had detected him and bowed tediously. “What do we owe the honour? Master Gaunt didn’t tell us you would visit today.”
“He didn’t?” Tom asked. “He must have forgotten. I told him that I’d come by today. Isn’t he here?”
“No Master,” Hokey answered. “They just left thirty minutes ago. Should we inform them for you?”
“Not necessary. I just wanted to treat my friends to dinner, you see. May I introduce you to Miss Carrow, Mister Prewett, and my fiancée.”
“Oh, networking, yes,” Scrook said and bowed once again. “Welcome to Gaunt Manor.”
“Shall we prepare some food for you, Master?” Hokey asked.
“Certainly. Bring my guests to the sitting room, will you? I’ll join in a bit.”
“Of course, Master. Of course.”
The two elves escorted Camille and Ben to the back, bickering and wrangling like an old couple.
“Quick now,” Tom whispered to you and walked the opposite way, towards the basement. The whole mansion was cold and dark, mahogany bleakly spread across the floors and even on some walls. The marble staircase in the entrance hall might have looked impressive, but only added to the frigid aesthetic of the house.
“Allow me to ask, Mister Prewett,” Scrook said while Ben and Camille took a seat. “What magical family do you belong to? I’ve never heard your last name before.”
“I, uh. I’m related to the Black family,” Ben said.
“The noble and most ancient house of Black,” Hokey crowed. “What an honour.”
The corridor to Morfin’s chamber was long, you had walked there for at least a minute, and it got even colder with every step you took. When you finally reached the door at the far end, Tom halted and you took a deep breath. He turned the doorknob, but the entry remained closed. 
“Locked,” he said. “Alohomora.”
The door stayed shut. Tom frowned. That would have been too easy.
“A different spell?” you asked. “Or is there a key somewhere?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s a charm.”
Merlin’s beard. What could it be? What could Morfin have done to lock the door? Something that only he or Marvolo would be able to use.
“What about Parseltongue?” you asked. “Does Morfin know it too?”
“Yes,” Tom answered and proceeded to speak unfamiliar words in the language. The doorknob clicked and sprung open by itself. “There we go.”
Meanwhile, in the sitting room, one of the elves got more and more interested in Ben and Camille’s backstory. “Can Scrook offer you a drink Miss? Sir?” he asked, while Hokey was busy in the kitchen. “Please, if you don’t mind, Mister Prewett. Would you tell me how exactly you’re related to Arcturus Black? Master Morfin is on good terms with him and I wonder why I’ve never heard of you before.”
When you entered Morfin’s chamber you were surprised by its size. It was almost as large as the entire Potions classroom in Hogwarts. Dead bats and shrunken heads were hanging down from the low ceiling here and there, along with strange feathers and strings that must have been some creature’s strands of hair. Despite its size, the room was crammed with bottles, finished potions and ingredients of all sorts. It wasn’t messy, not at all, but very chaotic for anyone unfamiliar. 
“Morfin arranges everything by type,” Tom said. “Liquids from living creatures must be in this corner then.”
You both started opening one drawer after another and looked for anything that could possibly be Banshee tears.
Ben and Camille still got cross-examined by Scrook. “Interesting, interesting. Mister Black is your great-uncle, you say. Have you met him lately?“
In the chamber, you had searched for over ten minutes already, and gone through hundreds of little flasks. The number of different liquids in this room must have been in the thousands. Slughorn’s stock was absurdly small compared to this. 
“Can’t we just use a summoning charm?” you sighed, going through your fifteenth drawer of vials filled with animal blood.
“No,” Tom said while closing a drawer. “The elves would notice it immediately.”
You shoved yet another drawer shut. “Bloody hell. What if it’s hidden?”
“That’s possible,” he mumbled, still scanning over all the flasks inside the cupboard.
“Wait,” you said. “What if we’re looking in the wrong place?”
“All liquids are here, as I said.”
“Yes, but I just remembered. Slughorn said this years ago. Banshee tears when stored, turn into tiny, pearly white crystals.”
Tom lifted his head to look at you.
“Where are the solids stored?” 
He pointed at the opposite corner of the room. “Over there.”
At the same time, Hokey brought appetisers into the sitting room. “Enjoy,” she grumbled, her tone not fitting her kind words.
“Thank you,” Ben said after he and Camille had taken some canapés from the tray.
Both elves froze, deeply offended. “Sir, you have not just thanked Hokey, have you?” Scrook asked.
“Of course not,” Camille answered, holding her head high. “What are you thinking? He thanked me for handing him a canapé.”
“I see,” Scrook said, eyes narrowed. “I’ll go and look for Master Riddle now. He’s taking awfully long, whatever he’s doing.”
“No!” Camille and Ben shouted which led the elf to turn back around.
“No,” Camille repeated, her voice a lot calmer. “I’d like to know more about this house. Can you tell us how long you have worked for the Gaunts?”
In the chamber, you went through the flasks and glass containers on the other side of the room, where the solid ingredients were stored, while Tom still roamed the liquids. And finally, between fairy wings and unicorn liver, lay a tiny flask of Banshee tears.
“Got it,” you called. “There it is.” 
Tom walked right over and checked out the flask too. “Very smart thinking.”
“Let’s go.”
Scrook had gotten disturbingly close to Ben. “I’ll gladly tell you all about this house, Miss,” he said, not taking his eyes off the boy. “When Mister Prewett reveals his real name.”
“My real name?” Ben asked. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not a pureblood, are you?” the elf hissed. “I can smell it.”
“Excuse you, elf! I must have misheard you,” Camille bellowed. She was a much better actress than Ben. “You surely didn’t mean to insult Mister Prewett in that way. Now apologise.”
Before they knew it, Scrook had gripped Ben’s hand and pulled it towards himself, sniffing at the inside of Ben’s underarm. “I knew it!” the elf yelled. “Mudblood! Hokey quick, alarm the Masters!”
Hokey came running in from the kitchen at the same time as Tom and you arrived in the sitting room. All three of you stood there in the archway and looked at Camille, Ben and Scrook in disbelief.
“Traitors!” Scrook screamed and accidentally knocked the tray of canapés off the table. “What have you done, Master Riddle? Bringing a mudblood into these halls.”
Ben had finally wrenched his arm away from the elf, holding on to it tightly while standing up straight, his chest heaving.
“The Masters must know,” Scrook whined and turned around. “We have to tell them immediately, Hokey.”
“Enough,” Camille said as she rose from her seat. “Stupefy!”
In an instant, Scrook fell to the floor without another word, completely unconscious. Hokey let out a yelp at the sight, turned around and ran toward the kitchen. 
“Quick, before she apparates,” you shouted.
“Stupefy,” Tom called with his wand pointed at Hokey. “We don’t have much time. The charm wears off on elves much quicker than on humans.”
Ben and Tom dragged the two elves to the entrance hall and dropped them next to the fireplace, while Camille cleaned up the mess on the floor, where the canapés had landed.
When you had gathered by the fireplace again, Scrook already opened his eyes, blinking slowly.
“Leave,” Tom urged and pointed his wand at the elves. “Obliviate.”
Camille went first and disappeared into the flames, followed by Ben and you.
Back in Hogwarts, when Tom stepped out of the fireplace, you finally felt like you were able to breathe again.
“We did it,” you said and fell into his arms. “I can’t believe we really did it.”
Tom held you for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, then moved his head and looked at Ben when he let go. “What happened?”
Ben still hadn’t calmed down. He rubbed his hands on his trousers and shook his head. “I don’t know. They were shocked when I thanked them for serving us food. Then the elf said he could smell that I’m not a pureblood.”
“You thanked them?” Tom asked. “Elves don’t accept that.”
“How am I supposed to know that? I’ve never seen a house-elf before.”
“Forget about that now,” Camille interrupted. “Did you get them? The Banshee tears.”
“Yes,” you said and pulled them out of your pocket. “We got them.”
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Masterpost | Masterlist | Part 15
Tags: @ariachaos @daardyrnitta
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You ever think about Lup and Taako’s dynamic and just like ... cry
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’
☀︎|tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!
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satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.
ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.
though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.
“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”
you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.
“mama, go! mama go papa.”
satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.
your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.
you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.
however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.
“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”
even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.
“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.
satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.
“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”
your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.
you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.
it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.
your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.
“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.
“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”
you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.
“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.
your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.
he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.
“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”
the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.
“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”
you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.
it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.
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delicioushottubpeanut · 6 months
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♡ babysitter
oneshot - inspired by that one edit
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fandom: five nights at freddys (movie)
paring: mike schmidt x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw 18+, dry humping, sexual tension, kissing, friends to lovers, cumming in pants, submissive mike, foul language, teasing, smut, riding, dom reader, consensual sex, age gap, minors dni..
You've heard a lot about him from Abby, mainly bits and pieces that she's told you, but nothing really about him and the only thing he really says to you is that he's eventually going to pay you back. But you always refuse.
The old couch squeaks softly as he sits beside you, a gentle hand goes to reach your face but hesitates.
He’s been very busy for a while now that he has started his new job at a security guard that was shut down ages ago. When he comes home he's always so tired, like he's a different person. As if he cannot relax. You hear the door open and slam back as it he closes it.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you come back.." You whisper, groaning whilst you move out of the position you had been in for a while. Yawning as you gently wipe your eyes.
Mike looks at you, half-smiling as he leans against the cushions. He's tired, you can tell. "Sorry if I woke you, you looked exhausted, so I just wanted to cover you," he whispers back, stretching his arms. "Did Abby go okay for you?" he asks.
"I told her it's bedtime an hour ago, but you know how it is with little ones." You joke.
"Abby was great, she missed you, though.." You smile sheepishly, shifting on the coach to face him. "How was work?" You ask, seeing the slight bags under his eyes.
Mike chuckles softly, leaning his head back and letting out a deep sigh as he stares up at the ceiling.
"It was long," he sighs. "I mean, I've gotten used to it, of course, but god, it's draining..." He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking off to the side and fiddling with his fingers, trying to find the right words to explain what just happened at work. He seems hesitant to say.
"You okay? You can talk to me if something is bothering you." Hesitantly placing your hand on his shoulder, slowly forcing him to look at you. You've known him for years due to babysitting Abby, but he's never opened up.
"Well... it's just..." Mike sighs again, still not meeting your eyes. "...Abby asked me some questions about stuff today."
He rubs the back of his neck, shifting in his seat as if he's about to say something and then thinks better of it. He leans back against the coach, letting out a frustrated grunt as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. "I... I just can't tell her."
"Is there anything I can do to help?" You whisper, staring at him, waiting for a response.
Mike's face softens a little, looking over at you before he sighs, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Abby asked about the job, and... well, it got me thinking..." He shrugs his shoulders again, still looking off to the side.
"Look, I'll tell Abby about it myself, I don't... I shouldn't put it on you..." He sighs one again, staring at the floor.
"If you need me, don't hesitate." You place your hand on his thigh, squeezing it for reassurance. Gaining confidence, you slowly move your body off the couch and sit on his lap.
"Oh..." Mike says quietly, his face turning bright red as you place your hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, his expression of uncertainty on his face changing as his eyebrows rise.
He's speechless, frozen in shock at your touch, and his entire face is practically bright pink. He's suddenly a lot warmer, his chest heaving as his heartbeat picks up speed. "... Y- you're..." he says with the last of his breath, his brain having trouble finding the right words to say.
"Is this okay..?" You grind against his lap, whispering against his ear.
"Shit..." He stammers, his brain desperately trying to process what you're doing. He looks confused, his eyes drifting down to you as his mind races.
"What... what are you... n- no, it's... we can't..." Mike stutters, trying to find a way to reject you. But the longer you're in his lap, the harder it is for him to say no.
"Just relax, Abby is fast asleep in her room.." You grind harder against him, using your index finger to tilt his chin up, making eye contact when you suddenly hear him whimper.
"T- this isn't the time..." he mumbles in response, his eyes closing at the sensation and his whimpers becoming more noticeable.
"W- we shouldn't be doing this..." he whispers, his arms hesitating in the air for a moment before they eventually wrap around your waist. He's still torn between going along with it or saying no, his heart racing as he gazes at you.
"Beg for me to continue." You stop moving your hips, feeling his arousal throb against your ass. Wanting to see how he would react.
"P- please... God.." he whispers, the breath catching in his throat and his voice turning raspy.
He looks at you, his eyes pleading, his body quivering under your control. His heart is pounding out of his chest. He swallows, looking up at you as his entire body screams for you to keep going while his mind fights back.
"You can do better than that.." You tease, breathing against his neck, gently creating bruises as you feel his slightly breath hitch.
Mike whimpers loudly when he feels your bites, his muscles tensing as he tries to relax.
"H- I- please, don't stop..." he murmurs hoarsely, sounding completely different than you've ever heard before. He whimpers again, his head tilted back as he tries to hide the pleasure in his face. He can't believe what he's doing, but he can't turn away.
"Good boy.." Slowly reaching to take off your top, revealing your covered breasts as you start to grind against him, pushing your panties to the side, creating a wet spot on his jeans.
Mike looks down at you, taking in the view as your top is removed, his face getting even pinker as his heart races.
He swallows nervously in response to your wetness, his eyes trailing down your body before they eventually turn back to your face. His cheeks are bright red, his breathing heavy as he glances back down at you, looking into your eyes as you look into his. He takes a long, drawn-out breath, his entire body quivering with anticipation.
"Just take what you want, Mike, no one is stopping you.." You tease, eagerly watching his reaction.
"I- it's..." Mike starts to say, but he can't say no to you, not right now. He leans back, pushing himself deeper into you like he can't help himself, the breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sensation. His eyes are closed as he tries to ignore his own morals.
His eyes snap open, his lips parted as he whispers, "More.."
"You close?" Whispering seductively, moving harder as you feel your climax coming fast.
"Oh, god..." Mike breathes out, his face red, and his eyes roll back into his head. He moans, bucking his hips up against you, feeling himself come close to release as he cums in his pants, feeling you come down from your high.
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