#yes i spent the last 10 hours on this what about it
Text
i can see you (miguel o'hara's version)
pairing: professor/mentor!miguel o’hara x graduate assistant!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 4.5k
summary:
As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man.
But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?
author's note:
my first (but probably not my last) miguel o'hara fic based on taylor swift's song "i can see you" from speak now tv. if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or commenting and letting me know your thoughts!
content warnings/tags:
explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), explicit language, no use of y/n, alternate universe - no powers, age gap (undefined), presence of power dynamics (teacher/student), author took scientific liberties (forgive her, its been 10 years since bio II lab), pineapple on pizza, potentially bad spanish translations, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), miguel picking reader up, unprotected p in v, size kink, choking, pet names, praise kink, competency kink, dirty talk. let me know if i've missed anything!
Translations you may need:
Universidad Estatal de Nueva York - State University of New York
Sí - Yes
Dios mío - My god
El Origen de la Genética Mutante - The Origen of Mutant Genetics
Mierda - Shit
Te lo prometo - I promise you
Lo juro por Dios - I swear to god
Arañita - little spider
Cállate - be quiet
Mirame - look at me
te sientes tan bien - you feel so good
Perfecto - perfect
________
You’re sitting in the front row, in the seat you’ve claimed as your spot, watching Dr. O’Hara pace in front of the projector screen that displays today’s lesson notes.
“And what is the hallmark of this mutant gene that demonstrates its incompatibility for transmutation?” He asks the silent room of undergraduates that have found themselves on the roster for his Mutation Genomics III course at Universidad Estatal de Nueva York.
A few hands go up around the room and Dr. O’Hara points to a student in the back who says, “Uh, it’s got a spiked protein arrangement that can’t be modified?”
“Is that a question or an answer?” Dr. O’Hara asks. There’s a sprinkle of laughter in the room and a smirk tilts his lips briefly.
“An answer,” the student says more confidently. Dr. O’Hara nods.
“Correct, but that’s not the whole picture,” he says. His eyes catch yours and he gestures for you to join him. Your eyes go wide as you stand and walk to his side at the front of the class. “I’m sure some of you that actually use your available resources to pass my class recognize my teaching assistant. And if you don’t, I recommend visiting her office hours during this section because this is her area of research.”
Your cheeks feel warm as everyone’s attention falls to you. Dr. O’Hara hands you the data pad and steps back, giving you an encouraging nod. You tap the screen, bringing the diagram up on the holo projector and making it larger.
“You’re correct that the spiked protein arrangement can’t be modified, but there’s something more limiting in this particular model. If you look at it from this angle—,” you spin the DNA diagram, “you’ll see something else hindering the modification process. What do you see?”
Hands go up. Dr. O’Hara points to another student who says, “There’s a gap jump. The spike protein would continue to travel across the gap jump and avoid any inserts.”
“Exactly. So, what’s the potential alternative?”
“Fill the gap. Target the spike protein in your modification cycle,” Dr. O’Hara finishes. “That’s all for today. Your exam next Wednesday will include this presentation, so don’t act surprised when you see the questions.”
A few students stop to speak with Dr. O’Hara as you gather your bag from your desk. His low voice calls your name, the timbre of it sending a shiver down your spine as you step up to his desk.
“You’re running a sequence right now, sí?” He asks, shuffling a stack of papers into order.
“Yes, it should finish around seven tonight. Sorry, I know that it's late for a Friday,” you reply. He waves a hand dismissively.
“I’ll see you in the lab.” His brown eyes flick to yours and your stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat, same as it always does when he looks at you.
Dr. Miguel O’Hara makes you nervous. Not only because he’s one of the most notable researchers in the field of mutant genomics, but also because he’s so handsome he leaves you breathless. He’s tall, towering over most men you’ve met, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist that are always covered by a suit and tie in the classroom or a lab coat in the research lab. His tan skin is complemented by dark hair and brown eyes that make you lose your train of thought when you stare into them for too long.
Which…is exactly what you’re doing now.
You clear your throat, stepping back from his desk. Had you been leaning closer? Christ, you hope not. You give him a brief smile before responding, “Yeah, see you tonight. Thank you, Dr. O’Hara!”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Miguel?” He calls after you.
“Maybe when I’ve cracked the sequence!”
________
Miguel watches your hips sway in the jeans you wore to class today, the denim hugging your curves so well he has to bite back a groan. The door to the lecture hall slams shut behind you and he sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw in frustration.
You drive him crazy. Every class period you’re sitting in the front row, watching him as you tap your pen to your lips or leaning over your desk just enough to give him a glimpse down your blouse or dress. Or you’re in the lab, delicately handling samples and extractions with a level of competency beyond your years, your lip caught between your teeth as you analyze a sequencing output.
He looks forward to and dreads your impending graduation in equal measure, being free from the constant temptation but losing the greatest researcher he’s met in years.
Miguel finishes gathering his belongings as the door opens and the next lecturer comes in, nodding at him in greeting. As he steps out into the warm Nueva York air, he has a weird sense that something big is coming.
He just doesn’t know what.
________
Miguel is waiting for you outside of his double locked research lab that evening, suit jacket hung over his arm and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to reveal tan forearms dusted with dark hair. Your brain nearly short circuits at the sight, conjuring up images of those arms wrapped around your—
No, you think. He’s your mentor. Your handsome, intelligent, and very serious mentor.
He looks up as you approach, corners of his lips tilting the slightest bit. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, you can’t be sure, but he presses his palm to the biometric lock and the heavy metal doors slide open. He steps inside ahead of you, putting his face in the frame of the security camera. A red laser scans his face and a light above the second locked door goes from red to green, the click of the lock disengaging echoing in the anteroom.
You follow him through the door and into his research lab. The fluorescent lights glimmer off the chrome equipment and pristine bench surfaces. A machine whirs, running the sequence analysis you’ve been waiting on.
“LYLA, what’s the status?” Dr. O’Hara says as he sets his belongings on the desk in the corner.
“Sequence will complete on schedule. Also, your specimen delivery is available in the ultra low freezer,” Dr. O’Hara’s AI assistant, LYLA, announces, feminine voice carrying through the room.
“I have a surprise for you,” Dr. O’Hara says, tugging on his lab coat as he walks towards the ultra low freezer.
“A surprise?” You ask, setting your stuff down at the assistant’s work space.
There’s the beep of a passcode being entered and the heavy freezer door being opened and shut. He’s holding a tray of cryovials, the contents varying in color. He sets the tray on a bench top near your desk and pulls one out, holding it up to the light.
“Isolated arachnoid mutagen,” he says. Your mouth drops open in shock. You rush forward, pressing in close to stare up at the vial with him.
“You’re kidding,” you whisper. He hands the vial to you, fingers brushing yours. You hold it between your thumb and index finger to inspect the suspension, red in color with tiny flecks of black. “Dr. O’Hara, this is insane. How did you even get this?”
“A guy owed me a favor,” he says. You glance up at his face and you’re suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. One deep breath and your chest would probably graze his, and did you just imagine his eyes dropping to your lips?
“That’s one hell of a favor,” you murmur, stepping back. “You want me to work on the extraction?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“You say that like I’m not your research assistant. You can tell me to do anything.” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes go wide and you cough. “I mean, you know, lab related. Research stuff. Yeah. I’ll get started on this. LYLA? Power up the centrifuge and thermocycler, please.”
“Centrifuge is online. Thermocycler will reach optimal processing temperature in t-minus five minutes,” LYLA replies.
You set up all the necessary supplies and prepare the sample for the thermocycler, going through the motions that are now part of your muscle memory - extract, vortex, centrifuge, extract, wash, set in ice. You set your tray of samples into the thermocycler and remove your gloves to hit the start button.
________
Miguel watches you run the PCR test, fixated on the confidence with which you complete each step and your words from earlier continue to echo in his head.
“You can tell me to do anything.”
Dios mío, he thinks. He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to will away the possibilities that anything could entail.
“Sequence results are available. Would you like to review now?” LYLA asks.
“Display,” Miguel says. You spin on your stool to view the hologram of the spliced DNA you prepared. He notices an issue immediately.
“Fuck,” you hiss, stepping up to the control screen and spinning the model. “There’s a deletion.”
“You knew there was a risk of that.”
You zoom in on the model DNA strand, a broken gap shown in the mutation. “I know there was a risk, but it should have worked.”
Miguel crosses his arms and watches as you bring up the transillumination image of the DNA you had attempted to merge with a human sample. “You wanted it to work. Science is finite. There is no room for should.”
You glance at him. You look like you’re about to say something when the thermocycler beeps and he’s left to wonder what you would have said as you busy yourself with removing your tray of DNA samples. He leans against the bench as you assemble the agarose gel for electrophoresis.
“Tell me, why do you think there was a deletion?” He asks.
“The mutagen was incompatible with the human strand,” you murmur, adding dye to your vials. “Just the same as it has been the last dozen times.”
You’ve loaded the wells of the gel with your sample and set it in the tank, closing the lid and turning on the power supply. Miguel takes the remaining tray of arachnid samples to the freezer while your procedure runs. He understands your frustration, he’s run his fair share of failed experiments after all.
After about an hour, the hum of the electrical current from the electrophoresis tank shuts off. Miguel, who had been reviewing a journal submission for El Origen de la Genética Mutante, joins you at the bench as you remove your gel and set it on the UV transilluminator.
“LYLA, scan and project,” you ask the AI assistant. Miguel stands behind you, looking at the DNA bands you’ve generated. He’s momentarily distracted by the fact that he’s so close he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, something citrusy that reminds him of summer.
You jump suddenly, back colliding with his chest. His hands come up to grip your waist, steadying you as you turn to face him, face lit up in the brightest grin.
“Miguel, look. This arachnid mutagen. It’s a potential match for insertion!” You say excitedly. “It has the same length as the deletion seen with the scorpion mutagen.”
“LYLA, show the current projection against the scorpion scan,” he says. The two images appear side by side and it’s clear that the band of arachnid mutagen fits definitively in a space that appears void in the scorpion samples. “Mierda.”
“You see it, right?” You ask. It’s then that Miguel realizes he’s still got his hands on your waist. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching as your eyes go the slightest bit darker at the pressure.
“I can see it,” he murmurs. He wants so desperately to lean in closer, to back your body up until you’re pressed between the wall and his body, nowhere to go as his lips explore yours.
But he doesn’t. He drops his hands and puts much needed space between your bodies. He clears his throat.
“Prepare a combined sample,” Miguel says. You blink, checking your watch.
“It’s almost nine. Running a new combined sample would mean we’re here until close to midnight.”
“I’m familiar with how time passes, sí.”
“Are you sure you want—“
Miguel sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re on the verge of one of the greatest scientific discoveries in the last decade. Do you think I give a shit about having to stay late? What kind of mentor would I be if I told you, ‘Oh just wait until Monday to change the scientific world’?”
“One with a work-life balance, probably,” you reply with a giggle. Miguel raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, okay, combined sample. I’m on it.”
As you rush around the lab, it hits him that you called him Miguel. Not Dr. O’Hara. He’s not sure what that means but he’s certain he wants to hear his name from your lips again.
_______
Dr. O’Hara orders food while your new combined sequence runs, begrudgingly agreeing to a half pineapple and half sausage pizza to split. You’re sitting outside of the lab in the empty hallway, pizza box between you as you eat the slices over grease stained napkins.
“What are your plans for after graduation?” Dr. O’Hara asks. You shrug.
“Probably get my doctorate. No one takes you seriously in this field without one.”
He frowns. “You’re on the cusp of a major breakthrough, one that could change our understanding of genetic modifications and mutants as we know it.”
“Yeah, and it’s coming from your lab. You’ll get listed as the first author, that’s how this goes.” You pick at your pizza crust, tearing the bread into tiny pieces that you sweep back into the box.
“I won’t let that happen. If this works, you’ll be the first name on that paper,” Dr. O’Hara says vehemently. “Te lo prometo.”
You smile, caught in his gaze for a brief moment before an alarm rings from his watch. LYLA announces, “Sequencing complete.”
Dr. O’Hara stands, holding a hand out to you. You grasp his broad palm and he pulls you up with ease, the force of it making you stumble slightly. You press a hand to his chest to steady yourself, marveling at how solid he feels beneath your palm.
“Sorry. Slipped,” you murmur.
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a crease between his brow and storms in his eyes. His watch beeps again and he releases your hand to silence it, the spell broken between you.
He unlocks the lab doors and you join him at the holoprojector, taking a deep breath. Dr. O’Hara brings up the sequence analysis, the hologram coming to life in the space between you. Your eyes scan the model, checking for gaps, deletions, frayed nucleotides, anything that could mean your procedure didn’t work.
You turn the projection this way and that, looking at it from every angle. You scan the result output reading, eyes jumping to the green SEQUENCING SUCCESSFUL text at the bottom.
You turn to face Dr. O’Hara, eyes wide with surprise. “It worked.”
“It did,” he replies.
“It worked,” you say again. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, your grin so wide it hurts your cheeks as you rush forward shouting, “It worked!”
Dr. O’Hara’s arms open to catch you, wrapping around your waist as he lifts you from the ground and spins you. He’s smiling, a rare sight for such a serious man, and it makes your heart pound in your chest as you stare up into his face.
“Dr. O’Hara?” You ask as he sets you down, his arms still wrapped tight around your back. “What—“
His lips collide with yours, stealing your breath from your lungs and your words from your brain as you melt against his broad body. The kiss is anything but gentle, with Miguel acting like a man starved as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.
“Dr. O’Hara—“
“Lo juro por Dios, if you call me that one more time,” he growls, lips trailing down your neck with wet kisses, “Miguel. Say it.”
“M-Miguel,” you whimper. He smiles against your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, making you gasp.
“That’s right,” he says, lifting his head. His brown eyes have gone dark and he’s smirking as his hands find the hem of your blouse, fingertips ghosting across the skin of your abdomen and dipping beneath the waist of your jeans. “Tell me what you want, arañita.”
Rather than trust your voice, you bring your own hands to his shirt collar, working at the buttons of his dress shirt as he opens the fly of your pants. He slips his hand lower just as you reach the last button of his shirt, revealing the tight white t-shirt that outlines his impressive chest.
His fingers rub you over your panties and you feel your knees buckle at the delicious friction. Miguel chuckles, removing his hand to grip the backs of your thighs and lift you against him, your legs wrapping around his trim waist and your hands holding onto his shoulders. He sets you down by his desk, reaching around you to sweep the surface clean, pens and paper falling to the floor.
“In a rush are we?” You say with a laugh. Miguel raises an eyebrow at you.
“Cállate.” He kneels before you, lifting each foot to remove your shoes before turning you to face the desk with his hands on your hips. He grasps the waist of your jeans and shimmies the material down over your hips. When they’re pooled around your ankles, his warm palms grip each ass cheek roughly, spreading you open. “This pussy is even prettier than I imagined,” he groans.
“You think about my pussy a lot, Dr. O’Hara?” You ask innocently. A palm lands a smack to your ass cheek, heat blooming across your skin as you gasp.
“Don’t play dumb, baby, I know you’ve thought about this just as much. You think I can’t see it. Trust me, I can see you watching me in class with those pretty little lips wrapped around your pen, wishing it was something else. Isn’t that right?”
You gasp as he runs his thick fingers through your soaked folds, reaching forward only enough to graze your clit without giving it the attention you desperately want. He leans himself over you, his chest pressed to your back and his lips grazing your ear as he says, “Answer me.”
“Yes, yes,” you pant, the confession earning you that delicious friction, his fingers drawing messy circles around the sensitive nub. He withdraws too soon for your liking, a whine falling from your lips that he shushes, his warm breath on your pussy. You turn your head to look over your shoulder, surprised to find him on his knees.
As you watch, he spreads your cheeks once more before leaning in, licking from your clit to your entrance with a rough groan. Your head drops down, hitting the surface of the desk with a thump as he eats you out like a man who’s found water in a desert. The sounds echoing in the lab are downright indecent, deep groans of appreciation against your cunt and desperate whines from your lips.
“Miguel,” you moan, unable to keep your hips still as his tongue drives you closer to the cliff’s edge of release. “Miguel, I’m gonna cum!”
The man only grips your hips harder, fingers digging deep as he holds you still and doubles his efforts. The thread you’re hanging on by snaps, sending you falling into ecstasy as your muscles go tight and your breath leaves you in a shout of his name as you unravel.
He pulls away only long enough to stand and turn you to face him, lifting you so that you’re sitting on the edge of the desk, legs spread by his body. He wastes no time slipping two thick fingers inside of your still fluttering cunt, his grin sharp as he sets a pace that has you trying to wiggle away to escape the overstimulation.
“Ah, Miguel!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs. His free hand shoves one thigh wide, pressing it to the desk. “What–”
“Cum for me again, I need to see your face this time,” he demands. He curls his fingers, pressing against your front wall with each drag of his hand from your body.
“I can’t!”
“What was it you said to me earlier? I can tell you to do anything?” He curls his fingers harder, focusing his efforts on a spot that has you squirming, desperate to get away and to cum in equal measure. “I’m telling you to cum again, arañita, so be a good girl and do as I say.”
Your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, the tightness in your abdomen unraveling as you clench around his fingers. His movements slow as you try to catch your breath until he’s withdrawing, leaving you feeling disparagingly empty.
“Mirame,” Miguel says. You lift your head, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching as he unbuckles his belt. “You made a mess, baby.”
You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you notice the wet stains on the front of his gray slacks. The feeling is short lived, however, as Miguel unbuttons his pants and pushes them down his thighs along with his boxers, kicking them to the side as he reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt off. You’re blown away by how stunning he is, broad shoulders and chest that lead to sculpted abs and a defined adonis belt that draws your eyes to his thick and intimidatingly long cock.
“There’s no way that’s going to fit,” you tell him nervously.
“Why don’t we test that hypothesis?” He asks, taking himself in hand. You blink at him.
“Did…did you just make a joke?” Laughter bubbles up your chest until it’s spilling into the room, your shoulders shaking with the force of it. Miguel takes himself in hand, notching the broad head of his length to your dripping entrance and sliding inside the barest amount, just the tip, but it has your laughter morphing into gasps.
“Mierda,” he murmurs, gaze fixed where your bodies connect. “So fucking tight, arañita.”
You feel like he’s splitting you apart, the stretch deep and all consuming as he fits himself inside of you, drawing back after each inch and slowly thrusting back in and giving you more of his cock in the process.
“You’re so close,” he tells you. “You’re doing so good for me. Tell me how it feels.”
“It feels so fucking good, Miguel,” you answer honestly. “I’m so full.”
“Fucking right you are,” he growls. His hands shove your blouse up, bunching the fabric under your armpits to expose your breasts. He tugs the cups of your bra down before leaning forward, the last bit of his length slipping inside of you as his lips wrap around a pert nipple and his hand gropes the opposite breast.
Your back arches at all the sensation - the fullness and stretch of him inside of you, the warmth of his mouth and the pinch of his fingers. He moves his mouth to your other breast and looks up at you through dark lashes with darker eyes as he licks the taut peak while holding your gaze.
His hips draw back, the drag of each inch from your body exquisite torture until he slams into you, the force of it sliding you up the desk. You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders and your fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents as you cling to him.
Miguel stands, his arms looping beneath your thighs so that the backs of your knees rest across his forearms, spreading you open as he picks up his pace. He looks down at your body like it’s his greatest discovery.
“Fuck, fuck, te sientes tan bien,” he growls.
“Miguel,” you moan, “please, please, please!”
“What are you begging for, arañita? Tell me.”
“Wanna cum, please, Miguel,” you beg. He drops your legs, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of your neck, urging you to sit up. You keep one hand planted on the desk behind you, the other diving into his thick, dark hair, pulling at the strands.
He drags his strong nose along your jaw as he murmurs, “Greedy girl, but I’ll give you what you need. Won’t I?”
“Uh huh,” you moan in response. His other hand settles at the base of your throat and his eyes hold a question that has your pussy clenching around him in anticipation.
His palm creeps up, strong fingers wrapping around your delicate throat, squeezing the sides the slightest bit. Your eyes roll back at the pressure.
“Look at me,” Miguel demands, “look at me while I make you cum again with my hand around your pretty throat.”
You gasp for air as he pounds into you, your release sparkling at the edges of your vision. It explodes like a supernova across your nerves, your muscles tightening around him and making him moan, a deep rumble that you echo as his movements grow erratic.
He slams deep inside of you, cock pulsing and filling you with warmth as he groans your name, head dropped to your shoulder. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the sweat on your skin cools and you run your fingers through his hair.
“That was—“
“Perfecto,” he finishes, lifting his head and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, one that has your heart pounding even harder than the lust filled ones from earlier. “It’s late. Let’s get this cleaned up and get you home. I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you argue. He scowls at you as you continue to say, “No, seriously, you don’t need to go out of your way—“
“Will you shut up for a minute?” Miguel asks. He holds your face in his hands as he says, “Get dressed. I’m driving you home.”
He steps back, the absence of him making you feel empty as you carefully stand from the desk on shaky legs. He hands you your jeans and you look around in confusion.
“Have you seen my underwear?” You ask.
“Hm? No, I don’t see them,” he hums, buttoning his slacks. The stain from earlier has blessedly faded.
You shrug, pulling your jeans on and fixing your blouse. Miguel cleans up the stuff he’d knocked from the desk, putting it all back in haphazard piles and grabbing his bag. He holds his hand out to you.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says. He must sense the hesitation you’re feeling when you don’t immediately grab his hand because he steps close, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “No one will see us. It’ll be our secret.”
You nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “Just this once?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it, arañita.”
The most fantastic fanart by narutoss.ramen on insta that fits the vibe of professor! miguel:
#miguel x reader#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x female reader#miguel x y/n#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara fanfiction#atsv fic#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderman#alternate universe#no use of y/n
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
heyyy!!!
could i request lando x reader angst with some fluff? where the reader is stressed with exams (exam season just started for me😰) and lando just helps her get through it and comforts her during the sleepless nights.
i absolutely love your work, especially the secrets series!🧡
exam szn is invading my personal space rn too i cannot think about it without wanting to cry hehe. hope this meets ur expectations and sorry it took so long to respond <3
warnings: none, just fluff :)
masterlist
TAKE A BREAK - LN
y/n was always going to be the most beautiful woman that lando had ever seen, even now, as she sat slumped over her laptop, pen tucked into her bun and dark circles under her eyes, highlighted by the dull orange of her desk lamp in an otherwise dark room.
this was not a new situation for lando to find his girlfriend in - he’d seen her at her worst when she had been revising for her final exams years ago, whilst he was busy with his driving career. but this past week, he’d barely spent time with her, besides seeing her setting up her desk before he left in the morning, and eating a rushed dinner before she went straight back to studying. y/n was bound to crash soon, her body and mind overworked and over tired, but her resistance was strong. lando missed his girlfriend. yes, she was physically in the same apartment as him, but mentally she was so far away, completely unreachable to the outside world.
“hey,” he announced, leaning against the door frame. she mumbled a quick hello in response, not even looking away from the glowing screen in front of her.
“y/n?” he tried to get her attention again, still with a mumbled response. he pushed his body from where he was leaning, walking slowly over to rest on the back of her desk chair, his head lowering to press a kiss to the top of her head, “come to bed, angel.”
“i will in a minute,” she said, finally breaking her stare at her computer, leaning back to look at him. he finally got a good look at her face. she was still beautiful, but she was tired. she was pale, her eyes red from the strain and constant fight against exhaustion.
“no baby, you said that last night and crawled into bed 3 hours later.”
“i said i was sorry for waking you up,” she said sadly, her shoulders tensing, the shift to her posture causing her muscles to move for the first time in hours.
“i don’t care about you waking me up, i care about you clearly struggling. you need to take a break, angel,” he said, his tone harsh even when he tried to be as nice as possible.
“im fine, lan, i promise. ill come to bed in 10 minutes.”
“y/n,” he warned, no longer caring about his tone, “when was the last time you showered?” he added, out of genuine concern, however she did not take it in that way.
“what? why? do i smell?” she asked, raising her arm to sniff herself, lando physically restrained himself from laughing. she didn’t smell, but her hair was slightly greasy, purely from the amount of times she ran her hands through her hair out of frustration, or kept her head propped up, using her arm as support.
“y/n,” he says, using her full name, “you are going to shut your computer down, have a shower, and then go to bed. you can keep studying tomorrow but tonight, i want to spend time with my girlfriend before i have to leave the country again.”
she was reluctant to oblige, but she knew she’d been neglecting him in favour of studying. she did this every time she had an important essay due, or upcoming exams - her brain became laser focused to the extent of forgetting to look after herself and those around her, the deadline approaching only adding to the pressure. she closed her laptop, and stood, stretching her legs out in the process, not realising they had gone numb from sitting down for hours.
lando took to standing behind her, hands on her waist as he guided her into their bathroom. as he switched on the light, her eyes squeezed shut and a groan fell from her lips at the shock of the brightness.
“has that light always been so fucking bright?” she groaned, as lando laughed quietly, moving around her to set the shower up.
“that’s what happens when you sit in a dark hole for hours angel. when was the last time you left that room,” he asked, his hand under the water testing the temperature.
“erm, when we had dinner?”
“babe that was 6 hours ago,” he replied with a sigh, checking the time on his watch, “the showers warm enough now. get in. i’ll be in the other room.”
“you’re not showering with me?” she asked sadly. his eyes perked up at the thought of spending intimate time with her.
5 minutes later, they were both stood under the water, his hands massaging shampoo on her scalp. the warm water has loosened her muscles, and the feeling of lando’s hands on her bringing her back to a full sense of reality. she turned to face him, looking in his eyes as the water cleared the shampoo from her hair.
“im sorry,” she told him.
“you don’t need to be, angel. i just wish you’d take better care of yourself. i hate seeing you like this.”
“i know i just..” she said, before taking a deep breath, “i just need to pass this exam and then i’ll be back to normal, i promise.”
“y/n, you are the most intelligent person i know. there is no way you need to destroy yourself for the sake of an exam,” he replied, his hands moving to cup her jaw. she hoped the shower would mask the tears welling in her eyes. she couldn’t tell if the tears were from the kind hearted words or from the sheer stress she’d been bottling up. either way, lando could read her like a book.
he lowered his head, pulling her face closer to his, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and each cheek, and then moving to press a short but sweet his to her lips.
“i just don’t want to mess this up,” she said through tears, “ive worked so hard to get to where i am right now, i can’t afford a set back. i can’t mess this up, and i can’t think about correlation coefficients any longer without wanting to rip my hair out.”
“and you won’t mess it up,” he replies, choosing to ignore the words he doesn’t understand, marvelling at her ignorance to her own intelligence, “taking a break every now and again, looking after yourself, is not going to set you back or destroy your progress. you can’t keep going like this - the stress and the way you overwork yourself is going to set you back further than taking the evening off will, angel.”
“i just need to pas-”
“no, you need to take a step back. give yourself a break.”
“i know, i jus-”
“stop arguing with me or i’ll throw that damn laptop out of the window,” he said, interrupting her and crossing his arms over his chest.
“please don’t, i can’t afford a new one,” she joked, and lando smiled at hearing her laughing for the first time in weeks.
“i’ll buy you a new one,” he replied, pressing another kiss to her lips, “right, turn around i need to do the conditioner now.”
lando didn’t let y/n move another finger all night. he had wrapped her in a towel and sat her down on the toilet lid whilst he brought her in a cup of tea. he helped her climb into her pyjamas, and then sat her down between his legs as he dried her hair. they had crawled into bed afterwards, his arms reaching out to pull her to lay on his chest.
“thank you,” she mumbled against his neck, her eyes already closed out of exhaustion.
“don’t thank me,” he replied, tilting his head to kiss her forehead, “just promise me you’ll start taking care of yourself.”
“i promise,” she said, raising her pinky finger to interlock with his.
“tomorrow, you start taking an hour break for every two hours of work you do. and please, go outside, get some fresh air,” he said, pleading with her.
“half an hour,” she debated with him.
“an hour. end of,” he said, his decision final, “or, that laptop really is going.”
“you would never,” she replied, jokingly gasping at him.
“you wanna bet?”
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked
415 notes
·
View notes
Text
the affair || matt sturniolo
summary: you sneak around behind his brothers back
warnings: suggestive
word count: 1,1k
a/n: Thank you for almost 300 followers and 300 notes under last post! Some of my favorite writers on here liked it and I was freaking out. Hope you like this one ily
🍒
"So you think he is acting different? Is that what you are saying?" I asked Nick while putting jar or peanut butter in the shopping cart.
We were grocery shopping for our movie night. Nick was one of my really good friends here in LA. I was a content creator as well. l mainly made music on TikTok, mostly singing and playing covers on the guitar.
"Yes... He is weirdly happy and not that tough as always...like man fine if he is getting laid but why the fuck he is so secret about it? Like we literally know that there is someone " He said and threw more stuff. Cookies and chocolate.
"I don't know Nick...Did you ask him?" I said looking at the labels of products.
I did not want to look him in the eye. If he only knew.
"No.. Chris only made one stupid joke about it and he got mad so we are not asking anymore" He answered.
We spent like an hour in Target before I drove us back to his house.
It was kinda late. Already past 10 pm, so we quickly took turns with a shower and settle to watch movies in his bed. We started Twilight because I made him. And because I knew by the time we start the second movie he is going to be asleep.
So when that happened, I left the tv on because I knew that's how he liked to sleep. I sneaked out of his room and went down the stairs.
I knocked on Matt's doors and within two seconds he opened it.
"Finally..." He said and pulled me into the room.
He closed the doors gently and smiled looking at me.
"Hi..." He said and gently pulled my chin to connect our lips.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. I did not see him for two days due to his busy schedule.
He slipped his cold hands under my hoodie giving me a goosebump allover my body.
Did I ever planned to sneak behind Nicks back to hook up with his brother? No. It just happened. From the beginning me and Matt had a special connection. We could talk for hours even if both of us were not the biggest talkers in the world. We were similar but yet completely different.
"I missed you too" I said quietly after he pulled back to take a deep breath.
He sat on his bed and made me seat on his lap. I straddle him and smiled.
"Your brothers knows that you are getting some..." I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
"Believe me, I know..." He said and rubbed my cheek.
"I wonder why? Am I making you less mean?" I pushed on his chest so he was under me completely.
"Honestly I do not want to talk about my brothers right now" He said and turned us so now I was under him.
He started to kiss my neck and I moved my head a little to give him more access. I sight a little. I missed his touch so much. It was on my mind for a whole day.
This is going to be a long night...
"Stay with me.... It's like 4 in the morning anyways...He is not going to know..." He said after he helped me to clean up in the bathroom and waited for me to pee.
"I don't know Matt... I was usually back to his bed" I said and yawned.
I hugged him and close my eyes. I was so tired.
"You literally sleeping while standing" He kissed my head and hugged me back.
"To be honest I can't really stand..." I blushed and he laughed a little.
"You sleeping in my bed kid... thats it" He said and picked me up and took me to his bed.
"I am not sleeping naked tho..."I said and he just helped me to put one of his t-shirt on and my pajama pants back on.
I instantly did fall asleep in his arms.
I woke up with pure panic. Because clock on the nightstand said 11 am. That means Nick is up for sure. And that means there is no way to sneak out without him knowing.
"Matt..." I started to wiggled from his arms.
"Mhm?" He moved away and stretched.
"It's almost noon... they are probably up already" I said and covered my face with my hands.
"Baby... thats okay.. it's going for long enough. I wanna finally take you out and spent time together without pretending that you are my bro and that I'm having a fucking secret affair with some random girl that I am not telling my brothers about. Because you are far from that. I do understand that you are friends with Nick and it's like bros code or whatever you think it is. But I think is time..." He looked at me.
Like chilled out weren't you asleep 3 seconds ago? It is too early for this.
"I know..." I breathed out heavily.
"So? Let's go.. if they are up they are probably in the kitchen." He got up and pulled a shirt on because he was sleeping only in his pj pants.
I also got up and pulled my hoodie on and fixed my hair.
"Oh... good morning... so I am waking up, right? Looking next to me...my best friend? Gone. I though... maybe something happened...I texted her phone... still on my nightstand by the way. I looked through the window, her car is still here. So I came down stairs... Chris was already here. I asked him... Did you see y/n by any chance? Chris said no.. but unfortunately he wanted some water at 3 am.. he didn't see her just heard her... FUCKING MY OTHER BROTHER" Nick was looking at us from the kitchen table.
"Do not be dramatic Nick..."Matt started.
"Oh I am not being dramatic I lost 50 bucks to him. Because we had a bet if you tell us first or we will find out this way..." He pointed at us.
"So you knew?" I asked looking at him.
"Of course I knew... I always know. Free pass only this one time both of you. No more secrets. Like what the fuck? I am happy you're happy and I wouldn't be mad" He said.
"Im sorry... I love you" I came up to him and gave him a hug. He only patted my back.
"Alright, alright you should only be sorry for Chris. He is traumatized" He laughed.
Matt laughed as well but I felt embarrassed.
"I am kidding, you are fine" He said.
"Also I must say... I always knew you guys will end up together" He said and I smiled at Matt.
"No more secret affair..." Matt laughed.
"No more" I said.
"So should we go out for breakfast?" Nick asked.
"Yes, please, I am starving..." I said.
"Too many burned calories, huh?" Nick asked.
"Oh my god now it will never end.... let's go back to the secret affair actually" I covered my face with my hands.
#sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x reader
449 notes
·
View notes
Text
Laws Of Attraction (Part 10) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader
Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers
Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo
Warnings (18+): sickening amount of fluff, language, angst, *SMUT*: oral (m + f receiving), fingering, hand job, p in v, overstimulation if you blink
Word Count: 6,892
A/N: If you’re here, congratulations! You made it to the end. A big thank you to everyone that has commented, shared, liked, etc. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since my first post. I had a vision when I started writing this in the middle of the 2022 season, not quite sure where it would lead, but I’m happy with where it landed and I hope you are too. I hope you like wine with your cheese, because this is ~cheesy~. Also, this is my first time writing smut so (1) if you are a minor please do not proceed; (2) if you do like/read smut, I would appreciate any kind of feedback. A big thank you to @cutelittlefakejourneys and @burningcupcakefire for beta-ing. Thank you @paddockbunny, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz for the insights and words of encouragement. As always, thank you for reading.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1
Daniel paced the hallway. He wasn’t accustomed to not getting what he wanted. Sure, in the last few months he had had his fair share of disappointments, but this was different. He was tempted to knock on your door until you answered, but thought the better of it.
He played through the moment in his head again, no different than analyzing a post-race debrief. What went wrong and how could he improve? He was professional during the signing. He knew you loved Geri, you only casually brought up Ginger Spice in conversation no less than a dozen times over the last few months. He knew you’d love to actually meet her – who knows, if everything went well it certainly wouldn’t be the last time for you. He didn’t force himself on you – at this point he knew you were like a cat and he needed to wait for you to come to him or else he’d scare you off. It seemed like the only thing keeping you from ripping each other’s clothes off was your job. Or so he thought.
Now he was confused. It was clear you hadn’t meant to say what you said – but you said it. I could kiss you. Can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. Four words that looped in his brain. He had spent so much time dissecting the meaning of the word “could,” he felt like he could be a lawyer too. But he had taken his time closing the space between you in the hallway. When he leaned in, you leaned in too. You had ample time to tell him off if he had misconstrued the whole thing, and he would never think less of you if you did, but you didn’t.
No, what just happened was not a rejection. You were just skittish. Like a cat hiding under a bed, you just needed to be coaxed out – slowly. You were food motivated, he’d learned that about you during your first outing in Belgium when you put down more bon bons than he thought was humanly possible. Yes, all you needed was to be approached with patience and understanding - and maybe the promise of a full belly.
-
You leaned against the door and squeezed your eyes shut, embarrassment already crashing over you like a tidal wave. You knew you were being ridiculous and immature. What was it that you were still afraid of?
You stripped off your suit immediately, it felt stuffy and heavy as you overheated, the reminder of your attorney-client relationship falling to the floor. You threw on the first thing you grabbed out of your bag - why did it have to be that pesky yellow dress again?
You paced your room for what felt like hours. Your professional activities with Daniel had officially come to its natural conclusion and yet you were still hesitant to move forward. It didn’t help that you were in a country that banned the cohabitation of unmarried couples, so really, what were you even going to do?
Despite the confessions exchanged back in Mexico and the kiss in Brazil, it was never guaranteed that anything would actually happen once Daniel’s legal affairs were settled. Frankly, you still weren’t fully convinced the conversations ever actually happened. You refused to believe the lingering stares and little touches that lasted a little too long were anything more than pure coincidence.
In spite of all of it, you remained unconvinced about how Daniel actually felt about you. Over the years of failed relationships and first dates that ranged from awkward to bad, you had grown wary and skeptical of romantic pursuits. For all you knew, all his lip-service was simply an elaborate ruse to get in your pants. You thought on this worst case scenario, which really wasn’t so bad. God forbid you have one night stand with a Formula 1 driver and live to tell the tale. It would be a lie to say you wouldn’t be hurt at first if you were correct, but you would eventually be fine. You had been happily single and independent for years, it would simply be a return to your de facto state.
And even if you could take him at his word, you couldn’t help but wonder what that relationship would look like when you had to resume work for other clients and the luxury of constant travel and proximity ceased. How would you continue to keep in touch? How often would you actually be able to see each other in person? Your first relationship was with The Firm, and you knew you weren’t ready to give up your livelihood for him. Then there was the other issue of paparazzi and tabloids - the forced spotlight that would fall on you, resulting in the lack of privacy and anonymity. You had no desire for fame, yet he seemed to be designed for it. You could go toe-to-toe with opposing counsel any day, but you weren’t sure you had his mental fortitude to withstand the cruel and unsolicited opinions of strangers on the internet.
You weighed the pros and cons over and over again in your head. For someone with such a demanding job, it made no sense that it all felt so overwhelming and complicated. But it was telling that the Australian was the first person you wanted to confide in. He was the only one who could ever quiet the constant hurricane in your mind that caused you to spiral if left unchecked. In this moment, you needed him to ground you.
You had been raised to leave hotel room minibars alone unless you wanted to bankrupt you and your entire family for two generations. Going against everything you believed, you took a nip from the stock. Hoping the small amount of liquid courage would do the trick, you checked your reflection in the mirror one last time before venturing to the room next door. You would simply have to assume the risk of the unknown aftermath.
With shaking hands, you opened the door only to be met with Daniel’s presence before you. He jumped slightly at the sudden movement. You did a poor job hiding your astonishment that left you frozen in place.
“Oh… hi?” Your eyes remained wide. He looked around and scratched the back of his head, appearing to be as surprised and confused as you were.
“Hi – I uh,” he took a moment to give you a once over. “I’m sorry are you about to go somewhere? You look nice.” You felt your face turn red immediately, the bravery you built up moments ago dissipating in an instance. He shifted his weight, quickly correcting himself. “Not that you don’t always look nice! I just – you look nicer than usual. I mean-” He seemed uncharacteristically nervous and was digging himself a hole. You looked around the hall to ensure it was empty and took a deep breath to save him from digging any deeper.
“Yes actually. I was going to see you.” He seemed surprised and relieved at the answer.
“No way, I was about to see you!” He shook his head when he saw you bite back a smile. “Obviously, I’ve been standing outside your door,” he laughed nervously, his confidence shrinking by the second. “Not for very long though! You didn’t need to know that. But I wanted to come to say I’m sorry about before, I was too forward back there. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just figured, you know, since we went pencils down and everything, maybe we could-”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Did I stutter?” You walked backwards as you took his hand, leading him through the doorway. He didn’t fight your lead.
“-you don’t know what I was going to ask.” You leaned back, allowing the door to click behind you under your weight.
“It doesn’t matter. The answer is yes.” You gave him a reassuring smile and gently squeezed his hand bringing him closer. “With you it will always be yes.” It seemed both of you were at a loss for words, but they were unnecessary as he took a step towards you closing the small gap that remained. His eyes were enchantingly curious as they gazed into yours. You only looked away for a millisecond, distracted by the tongue that broke free from his mouth to moisten his plump lips. You took a deep inhale in anticipation, your heartbeat bordering on palpitations as his lips closed in.
The moment they met yours, immediately you knew you never wanted boundaries with this man ever again. One hand cupped the side of your face while the other grabbed your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck in an effort to eliminate any remaining iota of space between the two of you. Your lips danced and moved together in unison, neither of you wanting to come up for air. His firm calloused hands roamed your body, unsure of where to rest. There were so many parts of you he had never touched before and he wanted desperately to become acquainted with them as quickly as possible. He squeezed your shoulders, ran them down the lengths of your arms, moved to the small of your back up towards your neck, in your hair.
The feverishness of it all began to slow, as he tried to memorize every peak and valley. He reverently moved his hands from your waist, dragging them up the length of your spine, one hand finding its way to your hair as though he wanted to remember every hair follicle, the other keeping your body firmly pressed against his. The leisurely pace only teased you, and each spot he touched left your body buzzing. He slowly brought his other hand to find yours again, repositioning so your fingers interlocked. The sweet gesture felt suddenly sinful when he pinned them to the wall, dragging them up the door until they were next to your head. The motion made your head spin, warmth spreading between your thighs, and you inadvertently let out a soft moan.
Ravenous for more, he firmly pressed your bodies together against the door, almost knocking the wind out of you. He pulled away only for a moment, his eyes pleading.
Can I?
You nodded your head frantically, capturing his mouth once more while guiding his hands to the parts you desperately needed touched. One gently cupped your breast while the other roughly grabbed your ass, kneading the muscles underneath. You both groaned in unison at the new sensation.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you,” he mouthed breathlessly before finding your neck, hoping the feeling was mutual. You didn’t say anything back, but he could tell from the pant of your breath and the pulse under his lips that it was. You threw your head back as he sucked, licked, and nipped at the sweet spot as he gently grazed his thumb over your bra, immediately feeling your nipple form into a stiff peak underneath. Being mindful of your noise level, you bit back a moan that ended up coming out as a pathetic whimper. You shamelessly pushed your hips against his and squeezed his hand on your breast, encouraging him to explore and desperate for more contact.
You instinctively widened your stance for him to perch himself between your legs. His hand played with the waistband of your underwear through your dress, trailing down to your inner upper thigh.
“Stop teasing,” you hissed. He only smiled into the kiss in response, his tongue pushing into your mouth to shut you up.
Your hands followed their own curious whims. Those pecs that you had gotten an eyeful of several times felt warm and firm under your touch. Your palm dragged down the ripples of his abs, gently landing over the front of his pants. You gasped feeling him harden under your touch for the first time, eliciting a low growl from him in return. His hips pushed forward in frustration, eager for more. You allowed him some relief, undoing his belt and pants, cautiously reaching inside. Your eyes widened.
“Holy shit,” you muttered as you grabbed around his length, your hand suddenly feeling quite small. He looked you dead in the eye, that familiar cocky smirk and twinkle returning to his face.
“Come on,” he flashed you a wicked grin. “You knew it had to be big.” You laughed at his boldness, which only inspired him to double down. “I know how to use it too.”
“That’s some awfully big talk.” You already had goosebumps from your head to your toes, but you weren’t going to let him know that just yet. You would make sure he worked for it. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“It’s not the only thing I know how to use.”
He captured your mouth in a gentle, chaste kiss as he used one hand to pull up the hem of your dress. His other hand snuck under the skirt, slowly dragging it across your skin. Rough and calloused from racing, they felt tantalizingly delicate.
“I was going to prove it, but it looks like I already convinced you.” He drew little spirals around your clit over your panties, barely applying any pressure. You bit your lip and looked up to the ceiling, praying for relief from the building tension. To your chagrin, his hand began to pull away.
“No. Please,” was all you could muster, your brain searching for more eloquent words that escaped you.
“Please what?” You reached for his crotch, hoping the action would suffice as an answer, but he grabbed your wrist to pin it to the door. “You have to use your words.” You felt the words on his breath that seeped through your skin.
“Please touch me.” Frustrated, you used your free hand to try to get him to fully take your dress off which was only getting in the way. He obliged, releasing your other hand to get a hold of the fabric. You put your arms up as he gathered the material over your head. Throwing the garment aside, he pulled away slightly to observe you for a moment. His eyes widening as they moved down your frame, trying and failing to hide his growing smirk.
“Do you always wear pretty underwear when you close a deal? Or are these for me?” He played with the pink lacy textile between his fingers, admiring how they accentuated the contour of your waist and hips.
“Both,” you gasped as he dragged a finger down your front. It passed over your clit, down to the fabric covering your entrance, smiling feeling how embarrassingly soaked you already were through the thin material.
With a chaste kiss on the cheek, he proceeded to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, chest, stomach, until he reached the hem of fabric. He continued over the garment, bypassing the spot he knew you needed him to your inner thigh. The gentle touches and the scruff of his beard almost tickled, panting as he moved down your body.
He looped his thumbs around the sides of your thong, pausing to look up hopefully for permission. You nodded with lidded, lustful eyes. He couldn’t hide his dimples and he continued to tease, dragging your panties slowly down your legs, taking care to pick up each foot to get you out of them. Your heart swelled as you observed him treating you so delicately, like a fragile porcelain doll. His trail of kisses started again from the bottom, beginning at your ankle, to the inside of your knee and again to your upper thigh until he reached an apex.
“Hold on.” You weren’t sure what he meant at first. Then without warning, he grabbed your hip and threw your opposite leg over his shoulder, finally diving into your center. Your hands instinctively found their way to his head to stabilize yourself, accidentally letting out a yelp in the process which soon after turned into a low moan as his tongue swirled slow circles around your clit. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled into your skin.
The vision of him on his knees fully clothed, contrasted with your nakedness enhanced his touch and sent you spiraling. Your hands raked through his gorgeous curls as he lapped you up. The pressure he applied gradually increased, culminating to him inserting a finger in you, then two. You slapped a hand over your mouth as the pressure pooled and he found his rhythm with his tongue and fingers. He knew you were close when your legs started to shake and squeezed around him. The waves came crashing over you as you bucked your hips erratically. He removed his fingers so that he could stabilize you, but his mouth never stopped.
He finally put your other leg back on the ground when your hips slowed and stood up. Your legs almost buckled from underneath you but he caught you before you could fall, lifting you to walk to the bed.
You watched him carry you wordlessly, your brain still short circuiting from your orgasm only knowing enough to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Not because you thought he’d drop you, but because you wanted to be as close to him as possible. It still wasn’t close enough.
He sat himself down on the bed with you landing in his lap, legs still wrapped tightly. There had never been a time where the two of you have been in the same room and exchanged so few words. You continued to stare at each other, simply amazed to be in the same space and sharing skin after three long anguished months of resisting forbidden fruit.
Your gaze fell to his swollen lips that you desperately wanted to taste again, still shiny with your essence. His hand pressed up your back until he grabbed a fistful of hair, bringing you in fervently for another kiss. It was the kind of kiss that enveloped you, that turned your legs to water and caused currents in you to flow creating bountiful energy that begged for release. Your hands roamed from his shoulders, down his chest and abs to the hem of his shirt. The two of you pried it off together and he threw it somewhere on the floor. Your mouths met again gluing your torsos together, your currents crashing in a tidal wave of electricity and emotion.
You unwrapped your legs to straddle him, lightly pushing him backwards. He pulled you with him as you both fell into the bed, smiling into each other and little giggles filling the air. You rolled your hips over him, annoyed with the layers that still separated you from the waist down. You reached down, sloppily pushing at his pants to demonstrate your displeasure. He understood your message, weaving his arms past you to finish the job and shimmying his legs until they were off. You reached down the waistband of his boxer briefs, teasing your fingertips just underneath but not going further. It thrilled you to feel his muscles tense underneath your touch. He nipped your bottom lip when your hand moved further south, and you could feel his jaw clench.
He pulled away suddenly, and you couldn’t place the look on his face which made you nervous.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! It’s just…” his hand cupped the side of your face, caressing your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
Your heart swelled at how delicate he was with you, at how much he cared. But you didn’t want to be treated delicately. And now you almost felt bad about how much you’d teased him up to this point. Almost.
“Do you know,” you said sitting up, your hand ghosting over the outline of him through his boxer briefs, “I had a sex dream about you. Right before the Japanese Grand Prix.”
“No,” he ground out.
“You had my legs spread on a desk in some McLaren office.” You felt his whole body clench again as you slid the last piece of clothing down his legs. As though the thought hadn’t crossed his mind every time you admonished him for not paying attention or not taking things seriously in those early days. The frequency of course increased, to every time you bent over, smiled, or played with your hair, to simply existing. For once, he was the one blushing and you found it entirely endearing. “I’ve literally dreamt of fucking you for three months. I want you and I need you. Now.”
His pupils dilated at your words, and his hands moved possessively from your face down to your ass where his fingers sank into your skin hoping to mark and keep you. He tried to find the words to communicate how badly he wanted and needed you too, but blood was no longer flowing to his brain and no words seemed perfect enough for you. His shaft twitched against his toned stomach, eager for your touch. You relieved him, wrapping your full hand around his impressive length pumping up and down a few times, your gentle grip slowly firming with each stroke.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. His hand found your waist and you felt his grip tighten as you continued. You slithered down his body until your mouth aligned with him, spitting over his tip. He felt voyeuristic watching the saliva drip from your tongue. You looked up to see him gripping the sheets for dear life.
“Is that alright?” He nodded fervently.
“Only if you want to,” he croaked out. Bless this man, who just wanted to make sure you were comfortable even though it looked like his eyes were going to roll back into his head.
“I do. Very much,” you insisted. You dragged your tongue slowly from the base of his shaft to his tip. “You made me feel good.” Lick. “Now I want to make you feel good.” His shallow breath hitched when you finally took him in your mouth. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, you looked up to make sure he was still breathing. You found him slack jawed, but eyes full of lust. He brought a hand to your head. You prepared your gag reflex expecting him to force your rhythm, but instead simply pushed your hair out of your face.
“Fuck, you look so good.” You felt the slickness spread between your thighs at his praise, adding a hand to his base where your mouth couldn’t quite reach. You increased your speed, moaning into him. He happily absorbed the vibrations, reflexively bucking his hips into you. You tasted salty precum at his tip and could tell he was close.
“W-wait,” you slowed your pace but didn’t remove him as you looked up again. “I don’t want to finish yet. Not like this.” You slowly pried yourself off him, finishing with a satisfying *pop* as you released him. You saw his chest rise and fall at an alarming rate. He helped pull you up, interlocking your fingers in the process.
“What do you want?” you asked, knowing you would do whatever came out of his mouth without hesitation.
“Grab my jeans?” You couldn't hide your skepticism, but nonetheless begrudgingly left the nicest seat you’ve ever known to find his pants somewhere on the floor. You resumed your spot on his lap as he frantically searched his pockets, finally locating his wallet and fished out a condom. Everything else found its way back to the ground. Eyes wide, he maintained a death grip on the condom. “You’re sure?”
You smiled. You thumbed his jawline as you brought your foreheads together. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” It took him about four seconds to process what you said, but when he did closed the gap between your lips in a messy and desperate kiss that sucked the air out of you. It dizzied him too and only pulled away when he remembered he had to open the condom. You leaned back to give him some space as he struggled with the wrapper. His brow furrowed in frustration as he tried to steady his shaky hands.
“I swear I’m usually a lot smoother than this,” he muttered. You bit back a laugh.
“I believe you.”
“You just make me nervous,” he admitted, uncharacteristically bashful. “In case you couldn’t tell.”
“Hardly noticed,” you said sarcastically, but reassured him with a giggle. “It’s very endearing, if it makes you feel any better.” You calmly grabbed it from him.
“It does,” he confessed as he let you take it from his hands. Without breaking eye contact, you ripped the wrapper easily with your teeth. You felt him twitch under you as you wriggled yourself against him in content, allowing him to feel your arousal. He swallowed thickly. “Where did you learn that?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” you smirked. You moved off him for a moment, and he took the chance to stroke himself a few times, watching you absentmindedly. How your hair, now perfectly tousled, fell around your shoulders. How gravity worked miracles on the swell of your breasts. How your waist sloped into your hips and thighs. You patiently presented the condom back to him and he used all his concentration to take it from you to roll it down his length. He looked at you hopefully when he was done and you rewarded him with another kiss, your hair cascading around the two of you creating a protective curtain around your new little intimate universe.
You both watched as you eased yourself onto his cock, voyeurs of your own lust. Your moans harmonized as he bottomed out. You felt deliciously stretched and full. Complete. You began slow to adjust to his size, teasing him in the process with your agonizing pace, rising up to the point of almost dismount before sinking back down again engulfing his full length.
“Does this feel good?” you cooed, already knowing the answer as you swirled your hips with him bottomed out inside you, tormentingly slow.
“Yes. Fuck yes,” he groaned as he palmed your ass. “You’re so fucking tight.” You dragged a hand from his chest, down the ripples of his abs, towards where the two of you intercepted. With his jaw clenched, he sank his fingers in your hips, trying unsuccessfully to steady them as you continued to rock. “You look so good with me inside you.”
He lifted his hips to meet yours as proof of his enjoyment, the new angle jolting you forward slightly. A moan escaped as you found a rhythm as you rolled your hips back and forth, itching for the friction of his skin against your already swollen clit. Your pace quickened as his length hit that sacred spot deep in your core over and over. The bounce of your tits mesmerized him. Unable to resist, his mouth found a nipple, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive peak that had you seeing stars.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you whimpered. You felt the pressure pool and coil in your lower abdomen. Your eyes closed when he grabbed the back of your head, gently pulling your hair.
“Look at me. I want you to look at me when you come.” All you could do was nod in response, worried that any sound you might let out at that point would alert the whole building. It was impossible to look away from his gaze even if you wanted to. You bit your lip as the pressure continued to build, hypnotized by the repetition and sensory overload. You rocked back onto him a final time before reaching your release, collapsing on forward onto his chest and his name falling off your tongue like a prayer as your hips slowed and stuttered.
Yes
Daniel
He’d never heard a more beautiful sound before. His mouth caught yours again, absorbing the moans that continued as you rode out your orgasm. He wrapped an arm around your lower back to pull you flush to his chest and began to upthrust, building to an excruciating pace. You held onto his shoulders for dear life.
“W-what are you doing?” You knew you sounded pathetic, barely able to form the sentence. He smirked.
“Getting you to Number Three.”
“I can’t,” you whined. He pulled you close and rolled the two of you over, taking care to remain buried inside of you. You gasped at the sudden movement, eyes wide when you landed on your back.
“Three’s my lucky number.” He gave a few slow pumps before pushing himself up to spread your legs. He admired the change in your face at each new angle, each expression more perfect than the next. He brought his thumb down to your clit and watched you whither under his touch. With the new view he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “Don’t worry, I’ll do the work this time.”
You couldn’t argue with his logic. The only response you could give were incantations of profanities as he fucked you into the mattress and his gentle finger rubbing the sensitive nub just above where your bodies joined. He glistened as beads of sweat formed over his body, enhancing the contours of his muscles with each thrust. It was all too much. You felt your walls begin to clench again, your body eagerly anticipating its reward.
Daniel saw your mouth mold into an “o”, the slight twitch of your muscles, and felt the pressure that was building inside you. He prayed you were close knowing that his stamina would soon run out.
“That’s it. Come for me.” Daniel counted his blessings that he should be so lucky to have a front row seat, not once, not twice, but three times to your orgasms. You were so beautiful. Too beautiful. He couldn’t stop himself from chasing his own high as he watched you twist and contort under him. His thrusts became more frantic and erratic as your moans filled the room until he spilled into you, lurching forward but catching himself before fully collapsing on top of you.
Finally the motions stopped, except for the quickened rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch your breath. You blinked at each other a few times, still unable to move or think. Daniel broke the silence.
“Holy shit.” You couldn’t help the stupid grin that formed. You pressed a hand to his cheek just to make sure he was still real.
“That good, huh?” He begrudgingly began to move and pulled out of you, rolling over to your side. He propped himself on his elbow and looked down on you, absentmindedly drawing patterns on your soft belly.
“I was just going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner. But that was way better.” You both laughed as you nuzzled into each other, still peppering the other with butterfly kisses and holding onto the belief that the world was the size of a queen-size bed.
Eventually he got up to go to the bathroom. As soon as he left your side, the intrusive thoughts returned and you began mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable goodbye. You watched silently as he searched the floor for his underwear, blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil. This was fun you repeated in your head. It will be a good story to tell you tried convincing yourself.
He came back to bed and snuggled up against you.
“Now what?” he asked innocently. You squinted back at him, laughing slightly.
“That’s an awfully loaded question, don’t you think?” He seemed confounded for a moment.
“I mean, I was just thinking we could get food now? What were you thinking?” You forgot that men could be such simple creatures. Maybe it was the audacity that allowed them to go about life blissfully unaware or unconcerned about hypothetical what if’s and unintended consequences of their actions. But for now, maybe you needed to think like a man too. You didn’t need to solve all the world’s problems in one night. Maybe all you needed was to just enjoy whatever this was for whatever time was left before you got on a flight tomorrow to return to reality.
“Yeah, I guess I worked up an appetite.” He broke into a wide grin. He grabbed your face to bless you with a kiss on the forehead before fetching the menu.
“Great. I’ll order us room service.”
-
Your eyes fluttered open the next morning. Scenes from the night before played on a loop in your head. Sweaty bodies entangled in a sea of limbs. In your experience, men who were that charismatic and that good looking rarely knew what to do with the bodies they had been blessed with. And yet…
You were afraid to open your eyes, not ready to let go of the memory that brought a smile to your face so you kept them closed a bit longer. Instead, you extended a hesitant hand to the other side of the bed expecting to feel the warm body of your evening companion, but you felt nothing. You reluctantly opened your eyes.
“Dan?” Your voice was soft and hoarse from sleep. Nothing. Maybe he hadn’t heard you.
“Daniel?” You tried again, a bit louder this time. Still no response.
You slowly got out of bed half asleep, the line between your dreams and the real world still not quite defined. You zombie-walked to the window, delicately drawing back the blackout curtains of the hotel room. You winced as your eyes adjusted to the natural light. Your clothes were still on the floor where they had been unceremoniously discarded, but the other outfit that had kept them company had disappeared. Your heart fell.
“Daniel?” you tried one last time, voice cracking slightly. Maybe he was in the bathroom. Maybe he had eaten something bad yesterday. You knocked on the door before cautiously opening it. You stood in the doorway a beat too long, unable to move from the empty space. He had been so convincing, so charming, and you fell for it. You had been so guarded and careful, you thought you had sniffed out any unsavory motives and you still were left feeling used and abandoned.
You blinked back tears before they could fall, hiding your defeat from no one in particular in the privacy of your hotel room. You wiped your eyes, chugged a glass of water, for some masochist reason put on your Enchante sweatshirt and got back into bed. It was still early, maybe you could sleep another few hours before you had to get ready to go to the airport. Maybe that sleep would help you forget and ease the overwhelming humiliation and melancholy that fell over you.
As you began to drift off, a noise at the door startled you awake. You realized it was the sound of the door key and grabbed sheets to cover yourself quickly, unsure what else to do.
“I’m not ready for housecleaning!” you yelled uncertainly, praying it was in fact hotel staff and not a burglar.
“Hey hey hey, it’s just me. Good morning to you too.” You slowly peaked your head from under the covers, shocked at the sound of the reassuring, achingly familiar Australian accent. The driver stood in the foyer, his hands overflowing with bags and precariously balancing two coffee cups. You sat up a bit more as you processed the sight in front of you.
“What-?” you trailed off. He seemed nervous, but a smile never left his face.
“I, uh, wanted to surprise you with breakfast. There’s a little place down the street. But you looked so peaceful sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you, so I grabbed your room key. But I realized when I got there I didn’t know what you liked, and my phone died, so I kind of got one of everything…I hope that’s ok. I didn’t mean to scare you –“
As he rambled, you had silently gotten out of bed to grab the cups from his hands, placing them on the table along with the insane amount of bags, one by one. With all obstacles removed, you enveloped your arms around his neck and stamped his lips with a kiss. He was surprised by the sudden gesture but returned it eagerly, his hands still familiarizing themselves with you. He blinked a few times when you pulled away.
“I promise I will get breakfast for you every day if you like it that much.” You laughed with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, and you looked away.
“I thought you left,” your small voice shrank in embarrassment that you had jumped to conclusions so quickly. You couldn’t bring yourself to explain further.
But you didn’t have to. He wrapped you in a bear hug crushing you into his chest, his lips nuzzled into the crown of your head, his body heat invigorating you.
“I’m sorry, I should have texted or let you know where I was.”
“No, it’s silly. I was being overdramatic.”
“It’s not silly. And I’m not going anywhere.”
“But what does that mean?” you asked in exasperation. He pulled away and looked at you in disbelief that you would even ask such a question.
“What do you want it to mean?” You bit your lip in frustration.
“Daniel, don’t be obtuse. In a couple of hours we’re getting on different planes to go to opposite sides of the world.”
“And?”
“We’re not going to see each other.”
“Well then it’s a good thing I know people with private jets.”
“I still have to work.”
“I’ll come to you.”
“My apartment is small.”
“I can pack light.”
“What if you meet someone else when we’re not together?” He let out an irritated sigh.
“I don’t want to meet anyone else.”
You were stumped. He could read the confused look on your face and gently grabbed the sides of your shoulders. “You know, for someone so smart you can be really dumb sometimes.” You crossed your arms.
“Hey!”
“I know it’s hard for you to believe for some reason, but I want to give this a real shot. I want to take you on a proper date. See what things look like when I’m not paying you to spend time with me.”
You looked down, feeling a little guilty about how much you doubted him. You couldn’t help that you were risk averse by nature.
“Did you just… Socratic method me to get me to understand that you like me?”
“Did it work?”
“Let’s just say you have a bright future as a law school professor if this whole driving thing doesn’t work out.” You paused for a moment, still trying to wrap your head around everything. “So… you really want to give this a go?” He rolled his eyes.
“Is it really that hard to believe?”
“I mean – yeah, a little. The world that you operate in is just so much different than mine. Your world consists of beautiful people.”
“You’re beautiful,” he retorted. You blushed but didn’t let the comment throw you off your stride.
“You know what I mean. Your world is glamorous and luxurious. My world is average. It’s a lot of take-out, it’s late nights on the phone with Joe, it’s boring suits, it’s work - without the recognition and without the spotlight. You could have any actress or model or singer in the world and you pick me. Can you blame me for being skeptical?” His face fell slightly as he realized that you didn’t think your shine was bright enough for him. But it was quickly replaced with something mischievous.
“What are you talking about? You’re a singer,” he said matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes.
“You’ve unfortunately seen me do karaoke, we both know that’s a lie.”
“Your morning shower performances beg to differ.” He laughed at the terror that flashed before your eyes as you threw your hands over your mouth, but quickly reassured you. “I’ve listened to you every morning since we got here. It’s the best part of my day, until I see you.” He pried your hands from your face, holding them in his. “And the last thing you are, is average. Can we please just try?”
You bit your lip, unable to contain the blush spurred by his words of affirmation. The squeeze of his hands on yours caused the dormant butterflies in your stomach to flutter their delicate wings and rise to your chest. A comforting warmth enveloped you, it rose to your cheeks and the answer was there plain as day on your face for him and the world to see. No, it couldn’t hurt to try.
“Only if… you’ll do a duet with me.” After holding his breath for what seemed like eternity, his joy and happiness hanging in the balance waiting for your response, he broke into a toothy grin that used every dimple and laugh line on his face. Without skipping a beat, he threw you over his shoulder and made his way to the bathroom leaving a trail of your giggles in his wake.
“I’m ready for my audition.”
#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo#f1#laws of attraction#formula 1 smut#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo imagine#dr3#danny ric#daniel ricciardo x reader#f1 x reader#reader x f1#reader x dr3#danny ric fanfic#danny ric x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 x you#formula 1 imagine#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one imagine#f1 fandom#f1 2023#suits#lawyered#wine and cheese
432 notes
·
View notes
Text
“coming back for more”
summary: in which you and Jude can’t stay away from each other
warnings: 18+ SMUT!, friends with benefits, dom!jude, innocence kink, blowjob, fingering, slapping, degrading, praising, pet name, a bit toxic relationship, changes of pov, unprotected sex (don’t do it guys!!!).. that’s all i think
10 days, 240 hours without seeing him.
240 hours since the last time he touched me.
240 hours without a fucking message or a call.
I would love to say that I wasn’t used to this, but I was. Used to be treated like this. I could say him no. I could say him that I didn’t want to keep doing this, like everyone told me. Even Jobe, his brother, told me that Jude wasn’t good in this type of things, that I should tell him to go to hell.
When Jude was away from me, when he didn’t text me, I convinced myself to end this, that it was the best thing to do. But his touch. God. His touch was like a drug to me. It felt like he had poison in his fingers. No man, ever, ever, made me felt like this. Not that I’ve been with many men, and I thought this is why Jude liked me so much.
The innocence that I had when I first met him, made his cock twisted only at the thought. The insecureness of my touch made his mouth groan and the though that he was the only man capable of making me felt the way he did, made his ego boost in a way that wasn’t explainable.
In those ten days that I didn’t saw him, was because he was in England, 2 hours and 30 minutes away from me. He didn’t texted, and even if I knew that he wouldn’t, the spark of the hope was always alive in me.
The din of my phone took me away from my thoughts. I took a quickly look at it, wondering who was. “J.”, that was the way that I saved him on my phone. Only two of my friends knew about him, in first place because he asked me to not tell everyone, and in second place because I didn’t want people to know that I let a guy treating me like a toy.
Another din. Again him. I unlocked my phone and read the message.
J.
hey
I’m back home
Me
Cool.
I just said, wanting to be stronger than my need for him. Another din.
J.
Same place, in one hour?
I rolled my eyes at the message. Me and Jude used to met in a hotel, since we lived in two different place of the city, and not to arouse the suspicions of the paparazzi. This time if he really wanted to see me, he should come at my place.
Me
If you really want to see me, then come at my place.
I knew that he wouldn’t come. Another din.
J.
Such a brat
I read the message without replying, knowing that probably he would text me the next day, or in the worse case, find another toy to pleasure himself.
-Jude pov’s-
I asked my mother to take me to her place, since she decided to act like a child, but I was craving her taste so bad.
We arrived in front of the place, and my mother stopped the car. I made my way to open the door, but her voice stopped me.
“Your girlfriend lives here?” she asked, hoping that I would say yes, I could say by the spark in her eyes.
“What make you think that I’m here for a girl?” I answered her questions with another question smiling innocently.
“Jude you spent an hour getting ready in the bathroom, I don’t think you’re here for your mates” she said smiling sweetly “You asked me five times if you looked good” she continued “And you do this thing at least three times at week when you’re here”
I kissed my teeth, thinking something to said my mother “She is.. I mean, kind of.. is difficult” I scratched my neck “Can I go now?”. She continued smiling “Jude you aren’t just a soccer player, don’t forget that” I nodded and after thank her for the ride and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek I left the car.
I made my way to her apartment, I’ve only been here once, but luckily I have good memory. I knocked the door, more than one time just to annoy her. I could hear her scoffing behind the door, probably rolling her eyes.
-Y/N pov’s-
I opened the door, wondering who is the prick who’s bothering me at 10 pm, but when I did, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
“Jude..” I said quietly, he was already scanning my body. I was wearing one of his shirts, and black socks that reached my knee “What are you doing here?” I asked him.
“You told me to come here, darling” he said tiling his head to the side with a smirk “Do you want to let me in or you want to go out and have fun on the stairs? It could be interesting” I rolled my eyes after let him in, and he closed the door behind him with a kick.
“Missed me?” he asked following me like a lost puppy towards the house, I turned myself to look at him “Why you didn’t text me?” I asked looking up at him. He put his hands on my waist, for hold me still, and getting closer to me, our nose almost touching “I didn’t know you liked sex chat babe, i’m going to remember the next time”
I kissed my teeth and shook my head “Is not that” I told him “So you don’t like sex chat? I would love to see you begging me from the phone” he continued holding my waist tighter “I’m not saying that..” he hands on me didn’t let me think correctly “So you’d like it?” he said continuing his play
I broke the eye contact with him, and his hands made their way to my hips “You asked to come here and I did” he whispered to my ear, and the his hot breath on my neck made me sigh. He started making his way to the couch, still holding me. He sat on the couch and made me sat on his lap. He squeezed my thighs “Have you’ve been with someone while I wasn’t around?” he asked
That was the strange thing about our relationship. Jude wanted me only for him. He wanted an exclusive relationship with me. And it drove my mind crazy every time, because it always made me hoping for more.
“Did you?” he hated when I would answer a question with another question, but I wanted to know. One of his hands trail to my ass cheek, without squeezed it “Answer.” he just told me, clenching his jaw at the though. I decided to tease him a bit, and I started rolling my hips on his lap “Maybe” I said, it wasn’t true, I barely left the house because I had too work to do.
He slapped my ass “Get on your knees, I think you need to remember who you belong to”, he said and slapped my ass again, making me gulp. I got on my knees and started to took off his belt, then I lowered his pants to his ankles. I smirked when I saw how hard he got, I took his cock in my hand and I started pumping up and down.
“Already so hard, babe?” I said mocking his pet name. He didn’t answer, he was just staring at me, waiting for me to do the next move. I caressed his tip with my thumb, while I started sucking his ball, looking at him through my lashes. He put one hand on my cheek, and the other took my hair in his hand, squeezing it “You aren’t in the position for teasing, darling,so put that pretty mouth around my cock before i loose my patience” he warned me with a smile.
I listened to him, but in the moment that i took his tip into my mouth, he pushed my head all the way down his cock, forcing me to take all of it. I put my hand on his thigh for balance, and the second after Jude started thrusting my head up and down, while his other hand was still on my cheek. I hollowed my cheek, to gave him more pleasure, while I was massaging his balls with my free hand.
I choke every time his tip touched the back of my throat, and my nose continued bouncing into his pelvis. Tears was falling down my eyes, while I kept looking at Jude. “Don’t look at me like that, whores like you need to be put in place” he explained while I choked another time around him “I bet you’re getting so wet by sucking my cock off”. And it was true, that sight of him made my cunt clench around nothing several times. I took my hand off his balls, and leaned it between my legs, trying to get some relief by touching my clothed clit.
When Jude noticed, he took my head off his cock, and slapped me “You’re getting pleasure only by me, and only when I decide” he grabbed my jaw “Understood?” I nodded, while I was breathing heavily. The leaded my head again on his cock, thrusting my head all the way down him.
I sucked the more that I could “Fuck, I’m close” he said between his groan “You’re so good babe”. It was a matter of seconds until I felt Jude’s cock twisted in my mouth, and his hand hold me still to be sure that I took all his cum. I felt his hot cum invading my mouth, his low groans surrounding my ears, I slowly took him out, making him sigh. I licked his tip, taking all his cum, and then swallow, staring at him for the whole process, making him smirk.
He made me sat on his lap again, and touched softly my lips, indicating to open. I open my mouth, and showed him my tongue, clear. “So good for me” he said under his breath before kissing me, and taste his own cum “You taste so good Jude” I told him and then start kissing his neck, craving for more. He stood up, making my legs lock around his waist.
He made his way to my bedroom, and for the whole time I kissed and bite his neck, like it was a drug, making him groan more than one time. We got in the bedroom and he pushed softly on the bed before hardly kissing me. His tongue entered my mouth with arrogance, and his hands traveled my body with possessiveness, without touching me where I needed him the most. “Jude.. please” I begged him on his lips. Without answering me, he took my shirt off, and made it fall on the ground, and he smirked when he noticed I wasn’t wearing a bra. He started kissing and biting my breast, and his hands squeezed my thighs, putting them on his shoulders.
His fingers, finally, made his way to my starved core “God you’re so fucking wet” he said, putting my panties to the side, and slipping his fingers towards my folds “Only whores like you gets this wet by sucking my cock”
He slides two fingers inside of me, and I moaned thrusting my hips up, he continued using his fingers inside of me. Without warning he removed them from me and I whined for the loss. “You really thought I would make you come this easy after what you told me earlier?” he scoffed “Not only a whore, even stupid” he said going to kiss my neck again, and I felt his hardness on my thigh.
He made his cock running towards my wet fold and I moaned when it came in contact with my clit “Jude.. I need you” I whined, almost crying “I don’t even need to ask you to beg” he cockly said before slowly entering me. I whined again, craving for more “Shh baby” he said putting his forehead on mine “It’s been a while baby, we need to take it slow” he explained, with a sweet tone. When he was fully in me, he waited a bit and then stared moving, putting his head in the crook of my neck, making me hear all his groans.
I looked at him, his shirt still on, I tapped his shoulder unsure “Jude..” I called him, he just took his head off the crock of my neck to look at me, with a preoccupied look on his face “Can you take your shirt off.. please?” I asked between my loud moans. Jude groaned, standing up, still thrusting into me “God, you’re going to be the death of me” he took his shirt off, and instinctively I closed my legs at the sight. He put his hands on my knee “Nah ah, I need them open baby” he told me, and opened them more than before.
He was now standing at the end of the bed, and from there, he looked like a god. He took my legs and put the on his shoulders, caressing my black sock that I had still on. From this position he was deeper than ever, I could feel him in my stomach “Jude, fuck” I moaned “You’re so deep, I can feel you in my stomach” I whispered not being able to talk louder because of the moaning. Jude smirked “I want you, to feel me everywhere darling” he said and started thrusting harden into me, making the the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall with every thrust.
I felt a knot in my stomach, and locked my ankles behind the neck of Jude felling so close “Don’t stop Jude” I spoke again “I’m so close”. I was a moaning mess “God you look so good” he groaned leaning to kiss me “So drunk of my cock” he squeezed my thighs, and I knew he was close too “Can I come into you?” he asked and I just nodded. It was a matter of second until I released moaning his name. Jude followed me right after, giving me his cum for the second time today.
He took himself off me, making me whine. He lead one finger between my hole, taking a bit of our cum on it. He took it to my lips, and without saying nothing, i took it in my mouth, sucking it “How is it?” he asked so cockly, “Good” I just told him out of my breath. He lay next to me caressing my thighs
“What was his name?” he asked out of nowhere. I looked at him confused “Whose name Jude?” I kept caressing his bare chest “The name of the guy you’ve been with, while I was in London” he explained with a mix of annoyance and angriness, and I just laughed “I haven’t been with anyone Jude, it was just to tease you”, the look on his face changed to an happy one “Oh.. don’t do it ever again then” he warned kissing my forehead.
“What about you?” I asked, a little scared of the answer “I haven’t been with anyone since I started this.. thing with you”. I didn’t say a thing, I just kissed him, innocently, but the caress that Jude gave to my ass cheek made me understand that it wasn’t over yet this night. “Jude I have to wake up early tomorrow” I said in the kiss “Mhh” he protested grabbing my ass “It’ll be quick”
in the end, we will always come back to the other for more..
note: hi!! hope you guys liked it, sorry that y/n is a little bit innocent but i liked it for this story. if you have any request lmk
kisses, Carla 💋
#jude bellingham#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham x you#smut#football smut#image#real madrid#yn#football#viral#aesthetic#fanfic#fandom
764 notes
·
View notes
Text
Snow in Indiana
Eddie Munson x Reader
5.7k words
Eddie has spent the past decade thinking about the pen pal he lost touch with, but fate has a funny way of bringing people back together when they need it most
Warnings: family death (unedited bc it is 3am and I have been working on this for hours)
“Dear Eddie,
Does it Snow in Indiana?”
He had read the beginning of the note hundreds of times by now. He had memorized how each individual letter had been written and slightly smudged. He knew the entire contents of the letter by heart, but that never stopped him from coming back to it from time to time.
“My grandma hasn’t told me much about Hawkins, just that it’s just like home. Except it’s on the other side of the country. Grandma likes the snow, so I hope you say yes.”
Something about the innocent nature of your writing calmed him down when things got rough. He had received the note in the middle of August at the beginning of 6th grade. Your grandmother had just moved across the country, and she just so happened to be the Librarian at Eddie’s new middle school. She had told both of you that the other could use a friend, even if you were thousands of miles apart. She also insisted that being pen pals would improve both of your lackluster reading and writing skills. She meant well.
“Can I tell you the truth? I didn’t want to write you a letter when grandma called and told me I should. My teachers say I’m not good at writing anyway. But Grandma also said maybe you and I could be friends. And I think I would like that.”
Some of your words had been crossed out with pen, either from misspellings or second thoughts on phrasing. Eddie had stared at the paper for so long that he even knew what was underneath those scribbles.
When the snow started coming down each winter, it was hard for him to not want to keep the letter on him at all times. The opening line of your first letter to him always floated into his head with the first snowflakes.
He had written you back to assure you that it does snow in Indiana, that he too had troubles with pleasing his teachers with his school work, and of course, that he too would like to be friends.
That was over 10 years ago now. He had never met you, never heard your voice, never learned what you looked like (besides the poorly drawn picture you had included for him one time) but you had been a part of him for his middle school years.
The letters started slowing down in the 8th grade. You had told him you were nervous for high school, that you’d heard that kids were meaner there. The last letter he had sent you was in the summer before both of your freshman years. He hated that he couldn’t remember what he had said, what his last words to you were. All he knew was that he wished you luck for your first day.
Then the letters stopped completely. After months of checking mailboxes impatiently, he got the hint and gave up.
At the age of 24, he wishes he sent another letter. He wishes he got some closure on why you stopped writing. He had always wondered if it had been something he had said, or maybe you had just found new friends in high school and decided you didn’t need him anymore.
He was embarrassed to admit that it was his first heartbreak. So he refused to admit it even happened to anyone he knew now.
He tucked the old letter in his pocket as another patron entered the diner. He had picked up a second job as the night cook in hopes of saving up enough to to move out of the trailer with Wayne. It had been months of helping Wayne with bills now, and he was just barely starting to see the hard work pay off in his savings account.
He peeked out the pass through window to get a glimpse of the first customer they’d had in the last hour and a half. The snow had been coming down hard, and it was preventing the already few people who would be coming in to the diner at this hour from showing up. He wasn’t surprised to see the young woman, somewhere around his age, follow the waitress quickly to the booth in the corner and sit down. He was, however, surprised to see no new car in the small lot outside. He hadn’t seen headlights arrive or depart to drop her off. The snow that has accumulated on her hair, even thought it has been covered with a hood, was making him think she had walked a distance to get here. If the counter hadn’t been blocking his view, he would have seen the bottom of her pants completely soaked through from the snow piled outside to confirm his suspicion.
“Can you start on a stack of pancakes, Ed?”
He nodded at the waitress, Judy, who wasn’t usually one to whisper like she was now. She rushed off to the phone in the back office, which did nothing but pique the interest in Eddie’s under stimulated brain.
Curiosity got the best of him, so he made his way out of the kitchen quickly, grabbed a mug from the counter and the full coffee pot, and made his way over the girl in the corner.
You had been staring out the window, and Eddie recognized the look as he approached. You were doing your best to hold yourself together. He was used to this kind of customer at this time of night. People who really needed the company, who had nowhere else to go, often found their way here after midnight. But there was something different about you, and it wasn’t just that he had never seen you around town. No matter how hurt he could tell you were inside, you did your best to keep up a facade when you saw him approaching.
“Coffee?” he offered, less poised than he had intended.
“Please,” you smiled up at him as he set down the mug and poured. He allowed himself to take you in, and that’s when he saw the snow still caked on to your sneakers, and the damp cloth stretching from the hem above your ankle nearly up to your knees. There was snow yet to melt from head to toe, and you were trying your best not to shake from the cold.
“You walk here?” He tried to make light conversation as he chuckled, but you weren’t as chipper.
“My car broke down about a mile up the road. Walking was my only option,” You tried to keep the smile on your face, but Eddie saw the look, almost like a shunned child. As if you were embarrassed by what you had done, preparing for the lecture or consequence coming your way.
Before he could say anything, Judy returned from the back office.
“Tow truck won’t be running ’til morning, darlin’. But I left a message telling them you’d call first thing,” Judy gave you a halfhearted smile, before turning to Eddie, “Where’s that stack I told you to start on?”
“Right, sorry,” he quickly excused himself back to the kitchen, but did his best to listen for the conversation you were having on the other side of the room.
“Where are you staying tonight? I can try to get you a ride there.”
“My grandma’s house, well it used to be I guess. I think it’s just a few more miles into town, I’m not a hundred percent sure though, I’ve never been out here.”
“Used to be your grandma’s house?”
“Yeah, she, uhm… passed away not long ago. Hard to own something six feet under,” you tried to joke, but failed to make either of you laugh, “Funeral service is next week, I came early to pack up her things. Guess I chose the wrong day to drive in though.”
“I’d say. Well let me see what I can do, do you have the address?”
“Yeah, it’s right…” you trailed off as you checked your pocket, slowly coming to realize that you had left the torn piece of paper with the address written on it on your passenger seat, right on top of the map you were struggling to follow in the heavy snow. “Guess I left it in the car.”
Just as the realization was threatening to break you, Eddie came and set a fresh stack of 3 pancakes in front of you.
“You eat up, it’s on the house. And let me know if you remember any of that address,” Judy smiled at you and walked into the back before you could refuse the free pancakes.
Eddie watched you for the next hour through the pass through window. No other customers came in, so he didn’t exactly have anything better to do. It was nearing 4 am, the end of Eddie’s shift. He had cleaned his station in the kitchen faster than he ever had and made his way out to your table to check on your before he left.
“Any luck with that address?”
“Don’t think I’d remember it with a gun to my head. I might as well walk back and grab it.”
“Not a chance. My shift is over in a few minutes. Why don’t I drive you back to your car, you can grab it, and I can get you there.”
“I couldn’t possibly-“
“No need to be polite. You’ve had a rough enough night, let’s just get you home.”
You didn’t correct his phrasing. This was the furthest you had ever been from home, and you were sure as hell feeling that in this strange diner with barely a concept of where you were. The snow falling outside only exacerbated your feeling of being out of place.
Eddie rushed to the back to grab his belongings and wish Judy a good night, letting her know he was going to get you out of there, before he made his way back out to you. You had brought the hood of your sweatshirt back up, and were staring out at the snow silently. He approached cautiously and gently spoke, “Let’s get out of here,” before guiding you through the door.
“I’m Eddie, by the way. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier.”
You paused at his name, but he was too busy trying to find his van through the wall of snow to notice.
“I’m y/n, thanks again for helping. You and Judy are both angels.”
He smiled at your name for a moment, but kicked the idea from his mind.
Both of you thought of the letters you had sent all those years ago, unaware that the person climbing into the same car as you was in fact the person you were reminiscing on.
Eddie shook the snow out of his hair like a wet dog before starting the van.
“Left out of the lot?”
“Yeah,” you smiled.
“You know, I’ve helped fix up a few cars in my day. I could take a look under the hood for you when we get there if you’d like.”
“You’re already helping enough, thank you though.”
“I really don’t mind. Can’t hurt just to take a look.”
The glance and smile he shot you made your stomach do flips. In the low light of the passing, sparse streetlights, he looked incredibly handsome. Your mind wandered back to what you thought your Eddie looked like back in middle school. You had sent him a drawing of yourself, mostly as a joke since your drawing skills as a 12 year old weren’t amazing, but you were also trying to send him the message that you desperately wanted to know him better. Of course, when your grandmother had insisted you become pen pals with a strange boy, you weren’t too happy about the idea, but as time went on, the sound of a friend sounded too nice. You hadn’t had many of them in elementary school, and it concerned your family. But as your friendship with Eddie grew with each letter, you found yourself hoping for something, anything, more. Now, as an adult, you blame your adolescent brain for the silly crush. But that didn’t stop you from thinking about him from time to time, still wondering what he might be doing in that moment, or if he is happy. But most of all, you wondered if he missed you as much as you missed him.
“You doing alright over there?” he asked you over the quiet metal playing over the speakers. He was playing it at about 1% of the volume he usually listened at, in an attempt to not scare you off just yet.
“Yeah, just a long night,” you smiled back at him. He nearly assured you that you could be real with him, that he could tell that something more was bothering you, but he worried that would be coming on too strong. And before he could find a way to say it without sounding creepy, you pointed out your car on the side of the road with a sigh.
It had only been a couple hours since you had left it, but it was nearly buried in the snow.
“That’s a little more difficult to check out,” He chuckled as he pulled to the side of the road, lighting up your car with his headlights.
“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab the address and we can get going,” you tried not to sigh as you opened the passenger door.
“Wait a second,” Eddie reached for your hand before you could make it out of the car, “I’m fine with taking a look, and I can grab the address too. No need for you to get cold again.”
“I already walked a mile in the snow earlier, I don't think a minute out there will kill me.”
“All the more reason for you to stay in here if you ask me.”
“Fine, but skip looking under the hood. I can call the tow truck when I wake up, it should be fine until then. Even if you could fix it with nothing, I don’t think I should be driving any more today.”
“Long trip?”
“Since 8 am. I really just want to get to sleep.”
“Deal,” he smiled again before stretching his hand out to you, “Keys?”
You reluctantly let him have the keys to go grab the paper, but not before trying to assure him you were capable of grabbing it yourself. You watched him as he rushed as fast as he could through the near foot of snow, grabbed the address, and rushed back to the van.
“You didn’t lock it,” you stated, nervous to not to sound nagging.
“I know, do you have a bag or something I can grab for you?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, where is it?”
“It’s in the back seat on the passenger side. It’s a small black suitcase.”
“You got it, here, take this,” he handed you the torn paper with your grandmother’s previous address written on it in a handwriting that would have been familiar to him, had he glanced down at it.
He ran back to grab your suitcase, and made sure to double check that the doors had locked after he shut them before he rushed back to the van. He threw your suitcase in the backseat before jumping back into the drivers seat.
“I don’t know how you lasted a mile in that, I’m already freezing,” he complained, but his smile still refused to leave his face.
“I’m sorry,” you tried yet again to apologize.
“Don’t be,” he paused to look you in the eye to assure you that he wasn’t upset in the slightest, “Now let’s see that address. Hopefully I actually know where it is.”
You handed him the paper, and even in the low light, you couldn’t miss the way his face fell, even for a millisecond. He hadn’t seemed to stop smiling all night, but the second he saw the paper, it faltered for just a moment.
“Everything ok?”
He looked up at you, and you could tell he wanted to say something, but thought better of it.
“Yeah, uhm, this is on the other side of town though. It’s a bit of a drive, is that ok?”
“I’d rather drive a little further than stay in my car tonight. So yeah, it’s fine,” you giggled, relieved that he didn’t seem angry or annoyed with you like you thought.
But he had seen the handwriting. He would know it anywhere, yet he still wouldn’t let himself get caught up in the coincidences. You were just a girl with similar handwriting, and the same name. You weren’t his y/n. He could never be so lucky.
“So, what brings you to town?” he asked after a moment of driving.
“It isn’t the happiest story, and I don’t want to be a bummer.”
“I’m nosey, and that does nothing to curb my interest,” he joked. He just needed to prod, he needed to know if he was being crazy.
“My grandma passed… about a week ago now. Her funeral is next week, but someone needed to clean up her house for the service, and no one else wanted to make the drive out.”
“Do you have any other family in the area to help out?”
“No, she only had 2 sons. My dad and my uncle, and they’re both back west. She moved here, like, 12 years ago now I think. Maybe 13.”
Just another coincidence. He’s not this lucky.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
You looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t heard that yet. Just stressed adults complaining about how traveling in the winter was too much of a hassle. Hearing those words, from a near stranger no less, was enough to make you tear up. And Eddie could hear that in your voice when you thanked him, but he chose not to comment on it.
“So,” you began after a moment of awkward silence, “How long have you lived in Hawkins?”
“My whole life.”
“Do you like it here?”
“Uh… It has its moments,” he tried his best to hide his discontent with the town. If it weren’t for his uncle, his band, and his small group of friends, he would have ran for the hills by now. He was too attached to them to run… and also lacking the funds to do so.
“That good huh?” you laughed.
“Hate to sound like an ass, but there are definitely plenty of cons that outweigh the pros for me half the time. But that’s not everyone’s experience.”
“Grandma seemed to like it, but she also liked it back home, and it’s no cake walk back there.”
You almost spat the end of your sentence, and although it wasn’t spoken explicitly, Eddie understood.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep bringing the conversation down. It’s just been a really long week.”
“I believe it,” He paused, “So how long are you going to be staying in town then?”
“I have no idea. Rumor is Grandma left me the house. And even if she did…. I’m sorry, I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours now, and driving for over 15 of them. I know you really don’t need to hear any of this.”
You started to make your body as small as possible, hyper aware of how loudly you had been speaking, and how riled up you were getting. Your father would have hated to see it. But not Eddie.
“No, keep going. Like I said, I’m nosey, and it sounds like you could use someone to talk to about this.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he agreed nonchalantly, unaware how much it meant to you.
“My grandma and I were really close before she moved. She didn’t get along with either of her sons, but she was the world to me as a kid. And my dad put up no effort to even reach out to her in the past decade, but he expects all of her stuff to be left to him, and my uncle wants the same. But my mom told me that one of them had reason to believe that she left it all to me. I don’t even know where they heard it, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not ungrateful, I promise. I just don’t know what to do about the two grown men that she apparently left out of the will if that’s true, and how mad they’re going to be at me.”
“They wouldn’t be mad at you.”
“You don’t know my dad,” you scoffed. You knew damn well that the man wasn’t afraid of throwing a tantrum, especially if it came to money. And he wouldn’t care if you were the one getting hurt in the process.
“What would they have to be mad at you for though? For your Grandma loving you enough to leave you something to start your life on? How is that your fault?”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault, they just care that they get their share. If it’s left to me, I might as well just divvy it up before they say anything.”
“But that’s not what you want, is it?”
“I just don’t want to have any issue with them.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not fair to you.”
“You really need to stop being so nice, you’re going to make me cry,” you chuckled, genuinely fighting back the tears as you spoke.
“Sorry,” he chuckled back. He took a subject before continuing. “Have you seen the house? Like have you ever visited?”
“No, actually. Who knows, maybe it’s a real fixer upper and I’d be better off passing it on to my uncle,” you giggled, and that put the smile back on Eddie’s face.
“If I didn’t mess up the address, it should just be in this next neighborhood.”
You kept saying that all you wanted was to get some rest after your long day, but now that you were talking to Eddie, you didn’t want the drive to end. The disappointment hit you like a rock as he pulled into the driveway of your grandmothers old house, but the feeling quickly turned to something else as you looked out the window to see the beautiful 2 story house with large trees on either side.
“So much for the fixer upper theory,” Eddie said with a whistle, but you were speechless. This was much more than you had been anticipating, much nicer than you had spent your younger years picturing every time you missed your grandma.
“You ok?” he asked after a moment of silence.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was just taking it in,” you chuckled nervously, still staring at the house.
“Why don’t we get you inside?” He said, reaching in the back for your suitcase. You put a hand gently on his arm to stop him, and he looked up to see your nearly empty stare, still on the building in front of you.
“Can you give me just a minute? I’m sorry, I know it’s late.”
“No, it’s fine… Are you ok?”
“Yeah…Yeah, It just,” you trailed off for a moment, “I hadn’t seen her in years. Had no idea what her house looked like, or what she looked like anymore. I got letters, I got calls, but… Part of all this didn’t feel as real. Going in there, that’s real.”
“Want me to come in with you?”
“No, that’s fine. I just need a second.”
“Have you ever lost anyone before?”
You didn’t answer, just shook your head as you moved your eyes from the house to him.
“Let me walk you in. You shouldn’t be alone for that.”
You looked back at the house for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded your head.
Eddie carried your suitcase through the front door, and you both kicked off your shoes before stepping on the carpet. You took a deep breath before reaching for the light switch. Eddie sensed your hesitation as your fingers hovered. He took the opportunity to grab the fingers of your other hand. It gave you enough courage to turn on the light in the entry way.
The furniture was mostly unfamiliar. You could see a few pieces in the living room that you had remembered from your childhood, and the sense of nostalgia calmed you. Eddie let you walk ahead of him, letting go of your hand as you ventured further into the room. Slowly but surely, you made your way to a wall on the other side of the room. It was covered in pictures, new and old, of your grandma with family and friends. You recognized yourself in plenty of them, but the newer ones were the ones that you couldn’t stop looking at. She looked so much older that you had remembered, but still had the youthful glow to her that you had attributed to her mischievousness. No matter how old she got, how wrinkled her face grew, or how gray her had and gotten, you still recognized her. Part of your heart began to ache for not knowing her as she was before she passed. It had been so long.
You felt Eddie approach you from behind, and you expect him to say something nice, or encouraging. But he didn’t. He was surprisingly quiet. You turned to make sure he was alright, but he didn’t seem fine. He was staring at one of the photos on the wall, and he looked like he was about to be sick.
“Are you ok, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Uh, yeah,” he replied, still white as a sheet as he tore his eyes from the photo to look at you. He barely shot you a half smile before looking back up at the pictures. You took a step back to stand next to him.
“I just remembered that she worked at the middle school when she moved here. Did you know her?”
“Yeah.”
“…Did you like her?” you tried asking after waiting for him to say anything more.
“Yeah, she introduced me to my best friend.”
“Me too,” you smiled at the memory of your old pen pal.
“Someone back home?”
“No, actually. I probably shouldn’t refer to him as that still. We haven’t spoken in… years actually.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, finally peeling his eyes away from the photos on the wall.
He should have said more, but he didn’t know what else to say. This was her. He was in shock. The girl he had spent the last decade wondering about had wandered into his diner. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, he felt like he could physically hear them, and it was hard to focus on anything you had possibly said. But luckily, you weren’t saying much.
He followed you like a ghost as you explored the first floor of the house. You were happy you had arrived before anyone else. You had the chance to see the house how she had left it, how she had lived in it. It gave you a sense of closure you weren’t going to get otherwise, it felt as if you were getting a sense of knowing her once again. You were caught up in it until you saw a clock on the wall, reading nearly 5 am. Realization hit you that you were keeping Eddie, and a sense of guilt washed over you. You turned to find him, with a bit of color returned to his face.
“It’s really late, I’m sorry I’ve kept you. You can go home if you’d like. I’m sure you want to get some rest too after your shift.”
He took a second, before asking, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” And you hesitated before nodding.
“Honestly, the roads are pretty bad out there. I could stay on the couch, help you figure out your car in the morning. How does that sound?”
He way have been a complete stranger just hours ago, but you really did feel like you could trust him. So you smiled and nodded.
“I’ll go find some blankets for you,” you smiled before disappearing up the stairs. Eddie didn’t expect you to come back for a while. You were bound to find your grandmothers bedroom and need to look around for a while. He made his way back to the living room while he waited. He stared at the wall again, but not in shock this time. Now that he knew was 24 year old you looked like, he desperately want to see what 12 year old you looked like. He found a picture near the middle of the wall, of a young girl smiling at the camera. It was the only photo on the wall without your grandmother in it. She had your eyes, had your smile, but most importantly, she actually looked like the drawing he had received all those years ago. You weren’t as bad of an artist as you’d thought. Eddie tried not to grow emotional staring at the photo. He only tore his eyes away from the picture of younger you when he heard you making your way back down the stairs.
Before you could reach Eddie, you paused by the window next to the back door, blankets in hand. The snow coated the back yard, reflecting the light from the back porch into the sky. You began to tear up, just as Eddie approached to take the blankets from you. He saw one of the first tears fall down your cheek, and quickly, but gently put an arm around you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just… Is this what it looks like every winter?” you asked, looking up at him with misty eyes.
“For parts of it, yeah. Why?”
“Grandma loved the snow,” was all you could reply before looking back out at the yard.
He contemplated it for a second, fought himself on whether or not this was the right moment to say it, but he couldn’t help himself.
“I told you she’d like it here”
A moment passed as you processed what he had said. You gasped quietly, quickly turning your head to face him. He looked nervous, as if he had just handed his heart to you on a platter, waiting to see if you would reject it.
“Eddie?” you asked cautiously, and you both knew what the question really was.
“Yeah,” he nodded, still nervous and unable to read what you were thinking.
“You stopped writing,” was all you could get out before another tear dropped.
“What?”
“Y-you stopped writing,” you repeated, beginning to choke on your breathes as you spoke.
He nearly panicked as he tried to reply.
“Y/n, w-what do you mean? I only stopped writing when you stopped replying.”
“Oh my god, it’s really you,” you couldn’t stop looking at him, another tear dropping down your cheek. Your exhaustion was exaggerating your emotions, but you may have felt the same regardless. You had waited 12 years for this moment.
“Yeah. Why don’t we go sit down,” he smiled at you, before herding you towards the couch.
“Y/n,” he spoke softly as he crouch in front of you, one hand resting on each of your knees as you sat on the couch, “What do you mean I stopped writing?”
“I sent you a letter, you never replied.”
“That’s impossible, I waiting for months to hear back from you. There’s no way I missed a letter from you.”
“No, I sent one, and I waited, but you never replied. You broke my heart Eds,” you quietly began to sob, filled with too many mixed emotions.
Eddie quickly sat next to you on the couch and pulled you to his chest to comfort you the best he could, but he was still confused. He had checked his own mailbox, his neighbors mailboxes, other houses in town with the same street number as his trailer. This didn’t add up. He quietly shushed you as he thought.
“What did the last letter say?” he asked as you began to calm down just slightly. He had half the collection of your letters memorized, but especially the first and last. He would know if he had read it if you described it.
“It was before Freshman year, I told you how scared I was that all the kids were going to be mean. I was so afraid that I was going to get singled out for still having no friends, and I waited for months to hear back from you. But you never wrote back. You were my only friend, and you stopped writing.”
“No, sweetheart, I would never,” he sighed as his heart dropped. He got that letter, he replied to it. Which meant that she never got his last letter. Neither of them had stopped writing on purpose, they had both assumed the other had given up. But he had sent out one last letter that was unaccounted for.
“Sweetheart, can you look at me,” he gently guided you to look up at him, “I promise you, I wrote back. I don’t know what happened to it, but I never would have stopped writing like that. I thought you had just ignored my last letter.”
“You wrote,” you said quietly, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it was a question, or if you were trying to reassure yourself.
“I did, I promise,” he whispered as he swept a tear off your cheek with his thumb.
And though you still needed to know what happened to his letter, and you had had one of the longest days of your life, nothing mattered more to you in that moment than leaning in, slowly. You took a second, pausing right before reaching his lips so he could pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t. It was a quick kiss, but it was gentle and sweet. Eddie didn’t try to pull you in for another, but he didn’t want to part as you pulled away.
It took him a second to open his eyes again, but when he did, he was smiling just as big as you.
“You ok?” he asked for what must have been the hundredth time that night. But unlike every other time you had answered, this time you told him the truth.
“I am now.”
(may or may not be already trying to figure out a part 2 for this, depending on if people like it <3 )
@embrace-themagic @fanficparker @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3 @eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @panagiasikelia @canthavetoomuchchaos @whenshelanded @starlitlakes @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @g0thdraculaura @celestcies
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson hurt/comfort#line cook!eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine
317 notes
·
View notes
Text
With Bad joking about preparing to go live as a hermit if the eggs are gone for a long time it really got me thinking about how important the eggs and their eggy actors have been to him.
Not that they haven't been important to everyone, the eggs are such a huge part of the server but tonights ramble is about Bad.
To the shock of absolutely no one! I'm a Ghostie first and foremost, with a hyperfixation and a penchant for writing novel length rambles. This is just the usual atp :')
Before the Qsmp Bad was not a daily streamer, not even close, just check his vods channel. Hell, even when he joined the QSMP he didn't stream every day of the start of the server. He only streamed one or two days for a handful of hours...but then he got Dapper.
And with him being a single parent Bad had to log on every day to do Dapper's tasks.
(Yes, Q was also a single parent but he had ppl babysit Tilin, also she died within the first 2 weeks of her being around soooo yeah, different circumstance)
Then because Bad was on every single day he took up a position of babysitter for most of the eggs since their parents couldn't be on as frequently.
To begin with it was mostly just Tallulah, she could've been taken care of by Philza but her schedule didn't originally line up with Phil's so it was easier for her to wake up for Bad to do her tasks.
Then Ramon started joining them some nights so he could hang out with Dapper.
Then Bad became closer with the French and started to watch Pomme for them when they logged off for the night since Pomme was a night owl.
Then Vegetta stopped logging in as often and Leo kept barely missing Foolish so Bad started taking care of Leo's tasks when Foolish couldn't and she started spending time with him as well.
Then Richas started hanging out with Dapper and Pomme, so they formed the late night trio and hung out almost every night which eventually became Richas just hanging out with Bad whenever he felt like it.
Then Pepito arrived and since Roier wasn't on as often late last year Pepito would hang out with Bad and Foolish most days.
Then Em immediately decided that Bad was her favorite Uncle and would hang out with him when Bagi went to bed if she wanted to stay up.
When the eggs disappeared, rather than his usual 6-10 hour streams Bad was streaming 3-5 hours because his entire time on the server was usually spent hanging out with the eggs.
I've rambled before about how qBad and Tio Bad are two separate things because Tio Bad isn't rp, it's just ccBad atp but I feel like some people don't realize the extent to which ccBad spends time with the Eggy actors.
Every single stream, from 5-12 hours, he's only ever without an eggy companion for a couple of hours maximum.
I mean there's the probability of each egg just showing up to hang out with Bad at any point in the day,
Obviously you've got these 3;
Dapper, Pomme, Richas - highest probability
Then these 3;
Empanada, Pepito,Tallulah, - high probability
Then these 5;
Ramon, Chunsik, Sunny - low probability
Chayanne, Leo - lowest probability
There is no egg that has never shown up randomly to hang out with their Tio Bad (and yes I am counting the Ghostie streams in this, it was still ccBad so yknow)
ccBad spends so much time with them.
Not counting all the stuff he's done on stream with all the eggs, he has;
built the snowman with Talluladmin and Pommin,
played battleship with Pommin and Ricardão,
worked on create farms with Dappmin,
worked on the signs with Pommin and Ricardão,
built decorations with Empanadmin and Pommin
Just to name a couple of the stuff we know, not even mentioning the nights they just spend together after stream doing nothing important
The server feels especially empty as a Ghostie because ccBad himself is just so used to hanging out with not just the eggs but the eggy actors as well.
His days are usually dictated by what one of the eggs wants to do, not even necessarily his kid.
If an egg wants to go on an adventure to find a particular thing but knows it's rare or could take a while, they know that the easiest thing to do (if they don't want to drag their parents to do it) is probably ask Tio Bad to take them to look for it. Em's done it, Tallulah's done it, Sunny's done it, Pepito's done it, Leo's done it, literally every egg except Chay and Chun.
His ass is always online and always willing to do anything for the eggs, unless it's ridiculously dangerous, then he draws the line.
If that man does go live as a hermit due to everything reminding him of the fact that the eggy actors are temporarily on break I will not be shocked.
ccBad spends so much of his time with them, not just their little eggy characters.
266 notes
·
View notes
Text
Muscle Head
"Morning, muscle head,"
"Ugh.....what do you want? I literally pounded your ass to oblivion as if that's my girlfriend's tight sloppy pussy last night, what else now?"
"Can you calm down for me, muscle head?"
"Y---yes, sorry about the outburst. I just didn't think you'll wake up this quick,"
"This is 9 AM, this ain't early, muscle head. I noticed the damp towel so you already worked out. Well, last night was great, but don't you think you need to eat again after that draining workout before going on about your day? My feet can get used to a passionate sucking,"
And just like that, the muscular bodybuilder dropped to the floor and grabbed the nerd's hazel brown feet. The bodybuilder sucked each toes with the utmost care and attention while moaning in delight on how delicious of a treat it is and the nerd just smiled proudly while holding his laughter due to the ticklish sensation of the handsome bodybuilder's tongue and saliva.
The whole feet worship lasted for about 5 minutes before the bodybuilder went on another body parts. He lost himself to his Master's barely hairy pits and thin arms while his Master caressed his hair and whispered sweet nothings to his ear. Eventually, he blew his Master's cock before going on about his day as he got some brand partnership talk with one of his sponsor during lunch before another gym appointment with two clients and his own coach throughout the evening. During the stretch of hours he's outside of the house, he behaved normally as if he didn't just swallow the cum of his nerdy loner of a neighbor earlier today
Around 8 PM, the gym is already quiet as the bodybuilder already asked his coach for a 1-on-1 session in his prep to Mr. Olympia so the gym is closed early. When he's doing his set, someone called his coach, so the coach excused himself to pick it up. It's an unknown number but against his better judgement, he picked up
"Hello dumb tool. You must be in the gym, this is your Master speaking, Tobias. Is Aaron still with you?"
And just like that, the Coach reverted to his tranced and enslaved self as he answered monotonously that Aaron is indeed with him and he's currently working on his muscle and poses for next week's Mr. Olympia
"Well, Aaron's little brain probably forget that he's also my subject even though he's out of the house and I told him to be back home before 8:30. That's not going to happen now since this is 8:10 already so I want you to punish him, dumb tool. This is what you're going to do---"
A couple minutes later, the Coach, Tobias, stared at his disciple.
"Are you done with all the reps?"
"Yes, I'm done. Who called? You spent quite some times," he said while taking out one of his earbuds
"It's none of your business, muscle head," said the Coach smirking while Aaron's pupil went wide as his consciousness started slipping away and his entranced self started to resurface once again. But, he's wearing one of his earbuds still so he resisted and started begging
"Coach, what the fuck? Don't say that word again,"
"What? Muscle head? Why? Aren't you a muscle head? Stop resisting and let that bitch ass power bottom out, Aaron. Our Master already told me to punish you for breaking your curfew,"
"Wait.....our Master?? Oh no...." he said, still fighting even though his Coach bombardment of his trigger word clearly made this a losing battle
"This is 8:25, muscle head. Don't you remember your Master's order? Maybe that's why our Master called you muscle head, because your little brain barely have an original thought of its own. You know what, kneel. Kneel to the floor and start repent, muscle head. Beg for your Master's mercy,"
Aaron didn't want to, but his Coach grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed his form as his trembling knee eventually caved in to the pressure. The coach also grabbed the still plugged earbuds and then smirked as he whispered Aaron's trigger word with his gruff voice. Aaron looked up and eventually realized how glazed his Coach's eyes are, and then he started to be pushed to his own subconsciousness as the other Aaron's fully resurfaced
"Now worship me, muscle head. Master is on his way to pick you up and he ordered me to train you to become the biggest slut in this year Mr. Olympia. So let's take this slow so we can still have something to show to our Master when he eventually comes around,"
501 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii ur writing is SOO SOO good im practically going insane over ur mbappe writings. could u pls write smth about mbappe being sick and reader having to take care of him but he's just enjoying being a brat and clinging to reader ? like imagine taking care of this manchild. imagine the HAVOC he would wreck if he didn't get a kiss from his gf
HOUR OF NEED
Heyy, thank you for your lovely words, means so much 🫶🏿 hope this is okay!
“You’re leaving me here all by myself? This is your fault.” Your boyfriend sniffles, pouting as you put on your jacket, ready to leave the house.
“I warned you about kissing me last week when I was sick.”
“But your mouth was so nice and warm.”
“And now here we are.”
“So you’re going to abandon me in my hour of need?”
“Kylian, it’s just a cold. You’ll survive.” You roll your eyes.
“I hope you know those may be your last words to me. Ever! Who knows if I’ll still be alive and breathing when you get back.” He shivers dramatically and you grab your bag, placing your phone in your coat pocket.
“I spent all day yesterday playing nurse Ky, I have to go to the office.”
“And you think if nurses just left their patients before they got better, anyone would recover?”
“You are a ridiculous man Kylian Mbappe. You have a runny nose and a high temperature, just keep hydrated and take your pills. I’ll see you at 6.” You reach over to kiss his forehead and he rolls over and pulls the covers high over his head.
“You don’t deserve to kiss me.” His voice his muffled under the blankets and you laugh.
“Whatever you big baby.” You call as you shut the bedroom door behind you.
————
“So if we push the campaign from this angle, I think the overall engagement would-“
PING!
Your phone buzzes for the hundredth time in the last 10 minutes since you started giving your pitch to the newest clients at your firm. You reach for your phone to turn it off, apologising profusely, when it starts ringing and you see your boyfriend’s face lighting up the screen.
“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this very quickly, I really apologise.” You hold your hands in a prayer sign before scrambling out of the office with the phone to your ear.
“Kylian, what the hell do you want.”
“Y/N…” his voices sounds strained and breathless, and you immediately begin to worry.
“Kyky? Baby what’s wrong?”
“I just…can you…” He coughs violently and you wince. He really doesn’t sound good, and you feel start to feel a little guilty for leaving him alone. “Can you…come home please? E…Emergency.” He croaks out that last part, as though he doesn’t have the energy to do anything else.
“Oh baby. I’ll be there as soon as I can okay? I’m sorry for not taking you seriously. I’m leaving the office as soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” he breathes before hanging up abruptly and you think the absolute worst. Maybe it wasn’t just a cold, maybe it was something worse, and now he’s alone and confused and deteriorating. You head back into the conference room, chewing on the inside of your cheek anxiously.
“Everything okay Y/N?” Your boss asks.
“Yes, ummm, it’s just my boyfriend is really ill right now, and he’s just called me and he doesn’t sound too good so I’m a bit worried that’s all. But we can get this pitch finished up and I’ll go and quickly see him on my lunch break-“
“Kylian is ill?” He says, shocked as if you’d just told him his own mother on was on her death bed. “Oh no, you must go to him right away. We have the PowerPoint and your notes, Lisa can finish your pitch.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes of course, I hope he makes a speedy recovery.”
“Thank you so much, and I really am sorry.” You disconnect your laptop from the hdmi cable connected to the project and slide it into your handbag.
“Don’t worry about it Y/N, please let us know how he’s doing tomorrow, you don’t have to come in if he’s still not feeling well.” He smiles. You thank him one last time before rushing out of the office and down to the elevator to the underground car park. You barely lock your seatbelt in place before hightailing it out of the building.
“Kylian!” You yell as soon as you make it back into the apartment. You drop your bag at the door and hurry up the steps, taking them two at time. It’s not long before you’re bursting into the bedroom. “Ky, baby what’s wrong? Have your symptoms gotten worse?” You sit on the bed, taking his sweaty face into your hands. “I’m sorry for leaving you baby.”
“You’re back.” He croaks.
“Of course,” you sigh leaning in to kiss him and he lets you this time. “What was so urgent?”
“I…the bistro is out of chicken soup and I really want some chicken soup, I was wondering if you could make some for me please?” You drop his head, and he falls back onto the pillow violently.
“Ouch!” He moans, rubbing his head.
“Kylian…” you close your eyes, your right hand pressing on the bridge of your nose. “Kylian, do not tell me you pulled me out of work because you want FUCKING SOUP!”
“I missed you too?” He pouts.
“Kylian! I was in an important meeting with my boss!”
“The one that’s the PSG fan? I’ll have someone send him some tickets to our next game, he’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes.
“Of course that’s why he let me leave the office without hesistation….but that’s not the point Ky!”
“Look babe, I’m sorry for making you leave work.” He doesn’t look sorry in the slightest and it pisses you off even more. “But I mean…you’re here now? So…”
“So???”
He opens his arms, his eyes wide as he smiles. “Come spend the day in bed with me.” You throw a pillow at him, landing in the space his open arms created, before storming out of the room.
“Where are you going?” He calls out.
“To make YOUR FUCKING SOUP!“ you shout back. “Tu es un putain d’idiot!”
———
You feel someone’s arms wrap around you as you’re stirring the soup and you shrug your shoulders.
“Get off me Kylian.” You mumble.
“Are you mad at me?” He asks, holding you tighter as he presses a kiss into your neck.
“Kylian Mbappe Lottin, I’m within an arms reach of very sharp objects. Get the fuck off me.”
“No.” He insists, burying his head further into your neck. “I want to hug you. I read somewhere hugs and kisses when you’re sick are very healing.” He moves from behind you to stand by your side, his arms around your shoulders instead, leaning forward with his eyes closed and lips pursed. You shove the teaspoon you were using to taste the soup into his mouth instead and push him off you as you untie your apron and place it on the work surface.
“You can keep your kisses. I’m not trying to get sick again.”
“You kissed me earlier when you came back?”
“Yeah when I thought you were on your death bed you manipulative man child.”
“Oh Y/N, come on!” He whines, stomping his feet. “I’m not a baby.” You look at his stomping foot and raise an eyebrow. He stops and his lips turn up in a little smile. “Okay fine, maybe I am a baby. But I’m your baby. And your baby is sick and needs you. He needs your kisses. Desperately or he might drop to the floor right now.”
“Drop. I don’t care, I’m not kissing you.”
“But I said I’m sorry!” He groans.
“And you’re forgiven. But I’m not kissing you. I don’t want to get sick again.”
“Actually,” he says, coming up to you as you reach into a cabinet above the sink to grab two bowls. “Since I caught this cold from you, it’s the same strain, and you can’t catch a cold twice with the same strain of virus. So you can kiss me as much as you want.”
“And since when did you become Dr. Mbappe.”
“I did some reading in the 3 hours you abandoned me.” You slide past him and start serving up the soup in the bowls.
“Good for you.”
He takes the bowls from you and sets them on the island before backing you up against the counter. The blanket around his shoulders falls to the floor as he rests his arms either side of you on the granite worktop, trapping your body between his.
“Just one kiss.” He whispers against your lips, his face barely an inch from yours. “Please. Just one.”
“Fine.” You press your lips against his lightly, ready to pull away but his hands cage your face, and he presses his lips harder against yours, deepening the kiss. You both pull away eventually breathless, your hand around his neck.
“Better?” You ask in a low voice.
“I’m cured.” He murmurs, before he suddenly recoils and sneezes all over your face.
“DUDE!” You shout, pushing him away as you reach for a tissue.
“Well, almost cured.” He laughs, stopping when he sees your stone cold expression, your eyes shooting daggers at him. You shove his bowl of soup into his chest and go to sit on the sofa with yours. You soon feel Kylian snuggle up next to you, lying down dramatically with his hand over his forehead.
“I suddenly feel weak and dizzy, I don’t think I can hold myself up Y/N.”
“What? You want me to feed you the soup now?”
“If you insist.” He smirks.
“You are unbelievable,” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too as you pick up the bowl and hold a spoonful to his lips.
“I also think a kiss in between each spoonful will really help speed up my recovery process.” He nods as he slurps the soup from the spoon.
“You know what, you should legally change your name to Mbaby.”
“Haha funny.” He retorts. He points to the soup, then his lips before opening his mouth wide. You intentionally put the bowl down and pull out your phone, flipping the camera to selfie mode and holding it up so both you and Kylian are in the frame simultaneously.
“Look at this big baby here,” You start, as you press the live option on your instagram. “Big boy Kylian Mbappe lying here while I feed him soup because he’s got a little cold he can’t handle.” Kylian reaches up to grab your phone but you leap from the sofa to the other side of the coffee table.
“Y/N, turn it off.”
“Oh look,” you say into the camera. “Suddenly he has the energy to get up. You should’ve seen him merely a few seconds ago guys, acting as though he had the plague.”
“Y/N, I’m warning you.”
You laugh as you read some of the comments from the fans on your live, getting louder as you see one from his teammate.
“Ky, Achraf said stop being such a pussy!”
“That’s it!” Kylian says before leaping over the table, but you’re a tad quicker than he is, dodging his lunge and making a break for it into the kitchen. “Cut the live Y/N, or I swear-“
“Or what?” You taunt, flipping the camera so it’s facing him as he stares you down from the other end of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You quickly slip through the door and up the steps before he can reach you, but Kylian proves himself to be one of the fastest men in the world once again because he’s grabbing onto your shirt just as you reach the top of the steps pulling you to the floor, his full weight on top of you as you raise your arm as high as you can out of his reach.
“Okay guys, I have to go, it’s time to feed baby Kyky his cough syrup.” You say just as Kylian grabs the phone out of your hand and turns it off.
“Looks like you’re suddenly feeling better hmm?” You tease, laughing.
“You…” He starts but his sentence trails and he pulls the blanket over his mouth before sneezing into it loudly. He sniffs, rolling over so he’s lying next to you, wheezing and breathless. “You’re so lucky I’m ill. Once this cold is gone, you’re dead.”
———
Tried to make it a bit fluffy, I feel like it probably wasn’t that fluffy aksjsksk enjoy ! <3
#kylian mbappe#kylian mbappe fanfic#kylian mbappe fic#kylian mbappe fluff#kylian mbappe x reader#kylian mbappe x you#mbappe fic#mbappe x reader#football fanfic#footballer x reader#mbappe#kylian mbappé#mbappe fanfic#mbappé#football imagine#kylian mbappe imagine#mbappe imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
secret admin | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x reader
mclaren admin is a swiftie and she may or not be dating lando as well, hard to say
(so many taylor swift references in this one, not gna apologize for it)
mclaren
liked by yourusername, f1 and 613,551 others
tagged: landonorris
mclaren graphic design is my passion
view all 13,688 comments
landonorris that's a lot of hearts
mclaren we have a lot of love for you lando
sebisking 'we' as if it's not just one person who runs this account and is in love with lando
hamiltonred mclaren's really out here playing favorites huh?
mclaren oscar piastri appreciation post coming soon dont worry
yourusername
liked by danielricciardo, mclaren and 3,326 others
yourusername call it what you want
view all 197 comments
yourbestfriend we get it, you're a swiftie
yourusername all hail the queen
oscarpiastri nice caption
yourusername 🫡🫡
landonorris added to their story
landonorris added to their story
story has been deleted
yourusername
liked by yourbestfriend, pierregasly and 2,981 others
yourusername state of grace
danielricciardo as if you're allowed to put your feet on the dash, i was never allowed to do that
yourusername i'm more lovable
danielricciardo impossible
oscarpiastri second pic looks kinda familar..🤔🤔
yourbestfriend oscar's saying what we're all thinking
yourusername i don’t know what you’re talking about
yourusername added to their story
interview clip
mclaren
liked by yourusername, f1 and 447, 983 others
tagged: landonorris
mclaren lando norris thirst trap coming in hot🥵🥵🥵
view all 35,009 comments
landonorris do you even know what thirst trap means
mclaren do YOU?
paddockgf the mclaren insta is just turning into a lando fanpage at this point
yourusername woah
danielricciardo you didn't post this?
yourusername i dont know what you're talking about buddy, im just a lando norris/taylor swift stan account
landonorris added to their story
oscarpiastri added to their story
landonorris
liked by yourusername, mclaren and 317, 839 others
landonorris the face of a man who just spent the last hour trying to understand the folklore love triangle
view all 4,122 comments
yourusername it's not that complicated
oscarpiastri yeah it's not that complicated
mclaren it's not that complicated, lando
paddockgf im living for this f1 and taylor swift crossover
hamiltonbaby at least this is confirmation that y/n and lando are friends(?)
jemmaf1 but when do we get confirmation that they're DATING
sunnystroll the whole world knows it at this point
yourusername added to their story
landonorris
liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 538,991 others
tagged: yourusername
landornorris are we out of the woods yet
view all 5,672 comments
yourusername a taylor swift caption AND a dumb but cute reaction pic?? i think i love you🥺
landonorris you better
landonorris 💜💜💜
oscarpiastri 10/10 caption mate
mclaren wait so is she admin
landonorris is she admin yourusername
yourusername what does that mean
paddockgf you guys are the WORST (but also the cutest)
yourusername
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 11,328 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername lover 💕
view all 1,291 comments
landonorris have you ever thought about NOT using taylor swift lyrics as captions?
yourusername thats illegal
standbyseb still waiting for an admin reveal
yourusername oscar runs the mclaren account
mclaren yes
oscarpiastri no
requests are open
who should i do next for a secret admin au 🤔🤔
#lando norris#lando norris au#lando norris social media au#lando norris one shot#lando norris instagram edit#lando norris instagram au#f1 instagram au#f1 requests#requests are open#holllandtrash#charles leclerc#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#f1 social media au#social media au#instagram au#f1 one shot#oscar piastri#oscar piastri is a swiftie#oscar piastri is their biggest fan#taylor swift#so much taylor swift
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Polaroid
✞ You're the love of Charle's life, and he hates not having you around... This time, he missed you a little too much.
✞ A short one - 847 words.
✞ I have synesthesia! Here's 5 songs that I associate with this fic: "Older" and "I'm yours (sped up)" - Isabel LaRosa, "Unpunishable" - Ethel Cain, "Trust issues" - Drake, "Masterpiece" - Motionless In White.
✞ Warnings - sexual content, male masturbation.
✞ Charles x reader (Charles POV)
The days that Charles spent away from you were definitely a torture. And not for him alone - but also Carlos. He'd talk the poor lads ears off. You'd attend the races more often, but studies stopped you. What a shame, right?
Charles was down bad for you. If you have ever seen a guy simp for his girl? Charles was all that and more, multiplied atleast 7 times.
He loved everything about you, but one of his favourite things were... your tits. Yes, thats right. He liked them, maybe a little too much even. He liked to touch them, lick them, leave trails of kisses over them, sleep on them, just look at them in general. All of it. If you ever sat on his lap? You better have prepared to have his hands use your tits as his stress balls (they genuinely helped him relax after a long day). You never complained though - his hands were always warm, and felt pleasantly tingly against your colder skin. So whenever he was away from home for longer periods of time... What he experienced could be described the best as withdrawals - he was addicted to them. And the fact that they were attached to you? It made it all even better.
Charles was in his hotel room after a race, as per usual. But he couldn't sleep - his "withdrawals" today were stronger, and the thoughts about the absence of you and your tits kept him awake. He turned to his other side, again, letting out a frustrated groan. He was even starting to think of asking you to send him something, but he quickly shook the thought off. You were never the one to send nudes over text, but so was he. But suddenly...
He got reminded of something that completely vanished from his mind - something that could offer him a quick fix for his current problem.
He doesnt even have to leave the bed to grab his wallet - it was in the drawer of the bedside table. He starts to open it up, with slightly shaky hands. His fingers find the polaroid that he keeps in it, almost dropping the wallet in the process. He looks at it, and sucks in a breath. You see, the polaroid... was of your tits. It was a beautiful sight - you were laying down on the bed, clearly battling a hangover. Your arms were stretched over your head, covering your eyes from the golden hour sunshine coming through the window. The sheets were messy - a reminder of a fun night for both of you. And your tits were exposed. Charles thought of that moment atleast three times a day - you could definitely call it his "roman empire".
He stares at the polaroid for another 10 seconds, and it takes him maybe 5 to get hard. He wastes no time, because he knows that it would happen eventually. He reaches down into his underwear, his fingers gently teasing along his hard dick, and he breathes in quickly. He then wraps his hand around it, and thinks for a second. He felt a little ashamed, but he was getting rather desperate. He wishes that you were here, doing this for him - but this will also do, for now.
He starts stroking it, and a few soft moans already escape his throat uncontrollably. He is looking at the polaroid, thinking of you and your voice, the way you... feel, and even the way you smell, while getting himself off at the same time. He already knew that he wouldnt last that long, a few minutes at best - but he didnt care.
The stroking picked up pace in a few seconds, him getting more and more desperate to get the release - the thought of you felt way too good, teasing him in a way. More involuntary moans slip from his mouth. Oh, what he would give to hear some of your own right now.
He could finally feel himself getting very close, and he closes his eyes, picking up more pace - to reach his orgasm faster. And he succeeds - a few seconds later his hips are already moving up on their own, shaking slightly - just like the rest of his body. He collapses into the bed completely right after.
The hand that just finished pleasuring himself returns back up, to be able to grip the polaroid with both hands, as he opens his eyes again. The sight of one of his favourite things ever greet him, and he cant help but let a smile appear on his face. The time periods that you spend away from each other didnt matter to him - he was beyond lucky to have you, and wondered what the reason might be almost every day.
The relief hit him, but now the exhaustion followed. His eyes were already starting to close - but the thought of having to clean himself up woke him up again. He groans.
Fuck, chérie... The things that you make me do...
-----
Authors note: dedicated to a lovely human. Thank you darling<3 (you know who you are.)
#f1#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanart#fanfiction#formula one fanfics#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanart#oneshot#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you
292 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hard Reset X
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Warnings: 18+ / Smut / Fluff
Description: This chapter takes us back to the city for the week 8 lead-up and win against the 49ers. There's also some Halloween night action.
Time/Place: Sunday, Oct. 22, 2023 - Wednesday, Nov. 1, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio (with a quick flashback to Levi's Stadium in Santa Clara, California)
A/N: This is the tenth fic in the Hard Reset series.
This chapter is a little longer and a little smuttier than I planned.
~ ~ I posted a sneak peek of this chapter, so if the first bit looks familiar, that's why. ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday, 10/22/23 (Cincinnati, Ohio)
You shimmy into a slinky white t-shirt that's barely long enough to hide your pink lace panties; you check your reflection in the mirror before clicking the bathroom light off and walking into the bedroom, your gaze taking in the delicious sight of your husband sprawled on the bed wearing nothing but black boxer briefs.
You turn your bedside lamp down to its dimmest setting and slide into bed beside him, smiling when he rolls over onto his stomach, a sure sign that he wants his back scratched. "You tired?" you ask, rolling onto your side to face him before trailing your fingernails up and down the muscular expanse of his bare back.
"Yeah," he mutters, his voice muffled by his pillow. "It was a looong day."
"It was," you agree. "Sooo much football," you grumble playfully, laughing when he raises his head and gives you a look. "Sorry," you grin. "I know you love it, but several hours of nonstop football is kind of a lot."
"Good thing you and my mom spent a couple of those hours talking about how to decorate the lakehouse."
"That was fun," you giggle. "How many times did you almost refer to our bye week getaway as a honeymoon?"
"Several times," he admits.
"Me too. We gotta be careful or your parents will figure out we're married sooner than we want."
"For real."
"They were super surprised you bought the lakehouse. I think they were a little upset you didn't let them in on the secret, but they got over it pretty quick."
"They can't keep a secret for shit, and I wanted it to be a surprise for you."
"It was an amazing surprise," you sigh. "I still can't quite believe it." You push up into a sitting position and dig your fingers into his throwing shoulder, smiling when he hisses in pleasure. "You wanna massage?" you ask, straddling his waist when he gives you a muffled "yes, please."
You rub his neck and shoulders for several minutes before he breaks the silence.
"Watching all that football today got me hype. I can't wait to get back on the field."
"Your calf feeling good?"
"Yeah, as good as it's felt all season. I pushed it hard in my last few work-outs, and it responded well."
"Time to unleash hell," you tease, smiling at his gruff "damn right" followed by a groan as you slide a hand into his hair and lightly scratch your fingernails over his scalp.
You continue to scratch and rub him for a few more minutes before he speaks up.
"Do you feel different now that we're married?"
"Yes," you answer, after considering the question for a bit. "I was already fully committed to spending the rest of my life with you, but it feels different now that it's official, even if it's just our secret for now."
He starts to roll over onto his back, and you rise up on your knees to make it easier for him; he waits until you settle your weight back down on him before speaking.
"All the negative thoughts in my head are muted when I'm with you. That's always been true, but even more so now that we're married."
"I'm glad." You give him a smile before furrowing your brow. "Wait … what negative thoughts are you having?"
He takes a deep breath before answering. "Just worried about getting healthy in time to save the season. We've gotta come out swinging against the 49ers and the Bills. If we drop those two games, shit's gonna be bleak." He slides his eyes closed as he continues. "Also, I'm not loving the background noise."
"Background noise?"
"Overrated. Overpaid." He makes a stank face as he plows ahead. "I know what some folks are saying about me."
"You've been playing hurt all season!" you protest, your blood pressure rising as you lean forward and lock eyes with him. "And let me tell you something about those loudmouths spewing all that 'background noise' …"
"Babe?" he interrupts.
"Yeah?"
"I'm worried about saving the season, but the background noise doesn't really bother me. That kind of shit just fuels me to be better. I shouldn't have lumped the two together."
"Oh … okay." You roll your shoulders to relieve some tension, raising an eyebrow at his bemused look. "What?"
"You were about to unleash hell," he teases, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.
"I get a little worked up when people shit-talk you, okay?" you chirp. "Most of those loudmouths hate you because you play for a rival team and/or because their woman wants to bang you. Simple as that." You give an emphatic nod as you finish your statement.
"Feel better now?" he asks, wrapping both hands around your thighs and giving a gentle squeeze.
"Yes. I needed to get that off my chest."
Y'all laugh together for a bit before you quiet down. You eventually drop your gaze from his face down to his broad shoulders and muscular chest, lingering there for a bit before moving farther south; you reach a hand out and ghost a fingertip over his blonde treasure trail, your eyes going wide when his flat stomach caves in under your touch.
"Did you just suck in your stomach?" you ask.
"Maybe," he mumbles, giving you a sheepish smile. "Dinner was so delicious that I ate more than I meant to."
"You worked out really hard yesterday and today. You deserved a little treat."
"I'm hoping to get another little treat tonight," he purrs, his hot gaze on your breasts causing your nipples to tighten under the flimsy fabric of your t-shirt.
"Is the door locked?" you ask, thinking about his parents sleeping downstairs.
"Yes, ma'am," he answers, his big hands immediately settling on your waist after you pull your t-shirt off and toss it on the floor.
"You want me to take charge since you're tired?" you offer, a small squeal escaping your lips when he easily flips you onto your back.
"Maybe for round two," he teases, holding eye contact with you as he kisses his way down your torso.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Monday, 10/23/23
You wake up abruptly the next morning, a shiver running through you as your nude body is exposed to the cool air; you turn your head and look at Joe, rolling your eyes when you see him wrapped up in the covers like a human burrito.
"Hey, wake up," you nudge him. "I'm freezing over here."
"Huh?" he mumbles, barely opening one eye to look at you.
"You stole all my covers," you grumble.
"Oh shit, sorry babe." He quickly unwraps himself and pulls you against him -- your back to his chest -- before tucking the covers around you. "Damn, you feel like an icicle," he hisses, throwing a leg over yours and rubbing a hand over you to help warm you up.
"No shit," you snark, trying and failing to sound stern. "My husband is a shameless cover hog."
"Sorry, wifey," he chuckles, dropping a kiss on your shoulder before pulling you tighter against him.
You give a content sigh as the heat radiating off of his big, nude body envelops you, your eyelids sliding closed as you drift off to sleep wrapped in his embrace.
~ ~ ~
The smell of coffee wakes you up just over an hour later. His parents are up, you think to yourself before slowly scooting forward a bit, trying to ease out of his grasp without waking him up.
"Where you going?" he mumbles, using one big hand on your waist to pull you back against him.
"Your parents are up."
"So?" he yawns. "They can entertain themselves for a while." His hand moves from your waist to your chest, his fingers teasing your nipples into stiff peaks as he presses kisses against your neck. You let out a low moan and bite your lip as he eventually slides his hand down to your crotch, his erection twitching against your butt as his fingers encounter your slick heat.
"We have to be really quiet," you whisper, whimpering when he slides a long finger inside you.
"Get on your knees for me," he orders, a little louder than you're comfortable with.
"Shhh," you scold as you do his bidding, burying your face in a pillow as he crawls between your thighs and tilts your hips up, your high-pitched whine muffled by the pillow as he slowly sinks his hard length inside you. He gives you a few seconds to adjust before pulling almost all the way out, pausing with just his tip inside before thrusting back in. You arch your back as he repeats the action, both of you moaning when the new angle causes him to bottom out. "Fuck," he grits out as your core clenches him, his thrusts coming faster and harder as you continue to whimper and moan into the pillow.
He eventually leans down and nestles his lips against your ear, giving your earlobe a suck while dropping a hand down to tease your clit. "The next time I fuck you hard like this, I wanna hear you scream," he growls, his deep voice causing a sizzle of heat to race down your spine. "Got it?"
"Yes, sir," you whine into your pillow.
"Louder!" he orders, pounding into you at the perfect angle to hit your sweet spot.
You lift your head up from the pillow. "Yes, sir!" you holler, much louder than intended; before you have time to be mortified that his parents probably heard you, he pinches your clit and bites your earlobe just hard enough to make you gasp, the sensory overload tipping you over the edge. You grind your face back into the pillow and moan his name as you come apart, your trembling thighs starting to collapse just as he wraps an arm around your waist to hold you up; he continues to fuck you through your climax, telling you how good you feel as your walls rhythmically squeeze his thrusting cock, your name on his lips when he finally releases inside you.
Y'all spend several minutes catching your breath, both of you groaning when he finally pulls out of you and rolls over onto his back. You eventually roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling. "Do you think your parents heard me holler?" you ask.
"Probably," he chuckles, laughing even harder when you swat his arm.
"It's your damn fault," you hiss. "Louder!" you mimic his deep voice.
"Relax, babe. I'm pretty sure they know we have sex."
"Well, duh, but they don't need to hear us having sex."
"Come here," he coaxes, pulling you toward him, giving you a pouty face when you push him away.
"Nope, you've caused enough trouble this morning," you grump, rolling your eyes when he sticks his bottom lip out. "Tuck that lip back in, pretty boy," you mutter, trying hard not to smile at him. "I won't be swayed by your elite pouting skills."
He pushes up onto an arm and looks down at you in the dim lighting, his messy curls tumbling against his forehead. "What can I do to make it up to you?"
You ponder the question for a bit before answering. "Go downstairs and get me a cup of coffee, then turn the shower on to heat up so it's nice and steamy when I get in."
"You got it," he grins, planting a quick kiss on your lips before hopping out of bed and pulling on a pair of black sweatpants. He's halfway to the bedroom door when your voice stops him
"Wait," you urge, sitting up and giving him a once-over when he turns to face you. "Aren't you gonna put on a shirt? Maybe brush your hair?"
He shrugs. "My parents have seen me with bedhead and no shirt. What's the big deal?"
"You look totally fucked out."
"And?"
You heave an exasperated sigh. "And I think you should brush your hair, put on a shirt, and wash your hands since you just had them all up in my goodies."
"Good idea on the hand washing," he agrees, striding into the bathroom before quickly reappearing; he gives you a cheeky wink as he wipes his damp hands on his sweatpants. "Be right back," he states, grinning as he disappears out the bedroom door, still shirtless and sporting his messy bedhead.
"Stubborn ass," you grumble, smiling as you collapse back against the bed.
~ ~ ~
You're downstairs in the kitchen about forty minutes later, flipping pancakes and chatting with Joe's parents; you take a swig of your second cup of coffee, your eyes going wide as Joe bounds down the stairs and into the kitchen.
"You shaved!" Robin chirps, quickly walking up to Joe and pinching his now-hairless cheeks. He meets your eyes over her shoulder, giving you a look when you raise an eyebrow at him.
~
He received a call from Coach Taylor earlier, right before y'all were about to get in the shower together. He was just ending the call when you stepped out to dry off. He made small talk with you while you quickly got dressed, opting for yoga pants and one of his hoodies that hits you at mid-thigh. He clearly shaved after you left to head downstairs.
~
Sneaky, you think to yourself, checking to see if the pancakes are done before dishing them up. "You want some pancakes?" you ask him, giving him a brief smile before turning to grab the butter out of the fridge.
"Nah, I'm just gonna grab a smoothie on the way to the facility."
"Okay, see you later." You head to the table and set down the butter, maple syrup, and the platter of pancakes and turkey sausage patties, your pulse reacting when you feel his big hand on the small of your back.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks. "Alone," he continues, giving you a smile when you throw him a look over your shoulder.
"Yeah … sure," you mumble. "I'll walk you out." You head for the side door with Joe close behind you. "Y'all go ahead and start without me," you call to his parents. "I'll be back in a sec." You open the door and step out into the garage, the cold air causing you to shiver a bit. "What's up?" you ask, not meeting his eyes as he steps out behind you, backing you up against the door once he closes it.
"You're mad that I shaved," he states.
"I'm not mad," you argue, "just a little disappointed. You know I love to watch."
"I know," he grimaces, running a hand through his hair. "I wasn't really thinking. Coach got me running plays in my head, and I was halfway done shaving before I thought about it. I'm sorry. I promise I'll let you watch next time."
"It's okay," you whisper, poking your bottom lip out and still not meeting his gaze.
He places a finger under your chin and gently tilts your head up, smiling when you finally make eye contact. "Your 'elite pouting skills' are way better than mine."
"No way," you mutter, matching his smile with one of your own. "Sorry I'm being a brat."
"You're not being a brat." He drops a kiss on your lips, lingering for a bit before pulling back.
"I knew it was coming," you sigh, reaching both hands up to touch his smooth cheeks, ghosting your fingertips over his immaculate jawline. "It's the perfect time for another 'hard reset' just after bye week."
He shrugs. "It's not even about football."
"Really?"
"Yep, it's about this," he murmurs, reaching a hand under your voluminous hoodie to cup your crotch, the heat from his hand radiating through your flimsy yoga pants making your toes curl. "I've had you in a chronic state of rug burn for the past few weeks," he continues. "You needed a break even if you won't admit it. The only solution was to shave since there's no way in hell I'm gonna keep my face away from your goodies."
You giggle at his emphatic statement. "Are you taking aphrodisiac pills or something? You're hornier than usual since the secret marriage ceremony, and I didn't think that was possible 'cause you've always been super high libido."
"You know what the best aphrodisiac in the world is?" he asks, grinding his palm against you, giving you a dirty grin when you bite your lip.
"What?"
"Having a gorgeous wife I can't get enough of."
"I can't get enough of you either," you whisper.
"Really?"
"Really," you assure him. "I can't be around you for ten seconds without my panties getting damp."
"If my parents weren't here, I'd take you right back to bed," he groans, removing his hand from your crotch to rearrange his budding erection. "They better be gone when I get back."
"They're leaving right after breakfast. You and I gushed about the fall fest so much that they found one about halfway between here and Athens. They're gonna hit it on the way home."
"Good." He drops another kiss on your lips before heading for his car. "Love you. I'll see you later."
"Love you, too. Have a good day," you smile, taking a few deep breaths of the cold air to clear your head before walking back in the house.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thursday, 10/26/23
You're lying on the sofa with a heating pad on your belly, waiting for Joe to get home from practice.
~
The last few days had passed by fast, with Joe being in a perpetual good mood, his optimism infectious as he chattered over dinner each night about the upcoming clash with the 49ers.
~
"And I had to ruin a good thing by getting my period this morning," you grump, grabbing the temperature control on your heating pad and clicking it up a notch. You chew on your lip and let the bad mood wash over you, more than a little annoyed at yourself. "It's not like it was unexpected," you snark, heaving an aggravated sigh just as you hear the side door open. "I'm in here," you call, poking your bottom lip out as Joe breezes into the living room, his expression immediately sympathetic when he spots the heating pad.
"Poor baby," he murmurs, dropping to his knees beside the sofa. "Are the cramps really bad?" he asks, spreading a big hand out on top of the heating pad.
"They were a few hours ago, but the ibuprofen I took is starting to kick in."
"That's good," he says, nodding his head. He's been with you long enough to know the first day of your period is always the worst, both physically with the cramps and mentally with the moodiness. "Can I get you anything?"
"Maybe in a bit," you mutter, giving him a smile. "How was practice?"
"Great," he chirps, matching your smile. "Offensive scheme is coming together, and my calf feels good. Can't ask for more than that."
"I'm glad." You reach out and run a hand through his hair, still damp from his post-practice shower; he leans into your touch like a cat being petted, and you repeat the action several times before speaking. "I don't feel like cooking dinner so let's just order something, okay?"
"Whatever you want," he agrees, leaning down to drop a kiss on your forehead. "Just name it, and I'll get it."
"Chinese sounds good. Something spicy," you muse, giving it some thought. "I think I'll have Kung Pao chicken plus a bunch of carbs."
"Rice or noodles?" he asks.
"Yes," you answer smiling when he graces you with that deep, throaty laugh.
"Okay so both," he confirms. "And obviously we need egg rolls."
"Obvs."
"Cool. I think I'll get beef and broccoli." He drops a kiss on your lips before standing up. "I'm gonna go pick it up since that'll be quicker than delivery. Anything else you need me to grab while I'm out? Wine? Chocolates? Tampons? Weed?"
"I think I'm good on all that," you chuckle, already feeling 100% better. "I can't wait to eat way too much and then bitch about how full I am."
"It'll be a nice change of pace to have you doing that instead of me," he grins, turning to head for the door. "I'll be right back."
"Be careful," you call after him, marveling at how fast he turned your bad mood around.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tuesday, 10/31/23
You study your reflection in the full-length mirror, a dirty grin gracing your lips at the thought of Joe finally seeing you in the naughty lingerie you packed for your secret honeymoon but never got around to wearing -- thigh-high stockings, crotchless panties, and a lace-front underbust corset all in jet black. You both get a little thrill from your height difference so you decide to forgo high heels. "He's gonna love this," you giggle, shimmying into a black silk shorty robe and belting it around your waist.
It seems fitting to wear this outfit on Halloween night, since it's a fancier version of the outfit you wore on the first Halloween y'all were together back at LSU.
"And I know the sex is gonna be even hotter," you purr, winking at your reflection before heading downstairs to set the mood.
~ ~ ~
Thirty minutes later, you take a sip of blood red pinot noir and hold it in your mouth for a few seconds, dancing it around your tongue before swallowing, your eyes surveying the scene as you wait for Joe to get home.
The house was already decorated for Halloween, but you added a few extra touches -- candles on every available surface plus several strings of purple lights. You draped a gauzy purple scarf over the lamp in the living room, careful to make sure no candles were close enough to ignite it once they were lit.
You giggle to yourself as a memory hits you.
~
You and Joe making love in his LSU apartment, a scarf on the bedside lamp creating mood lighting along with a couple of flickering candles. Y'all were going at it when Joe suddenly pulled out and jumped off the bed, grabbing the flaming scarf -- that you hadn't even noticed -- before jogging to the bathroom and quickly extinguising the flames in the sink. Your heart was pounding in your chest at the close call when he calmly walked back into the bedroom, still fully erect like y'all didn't almost burn the place down. He crawled back in bed and soothed your nerves until you begged him to finish what he started.
~
"Cool, calm, and collected," you muse out loud, smiling as you think about all the folks who say he'd be a great soldier or first responder due to his stone cold demeanor under pressure.
You're still smiling as you take another sip of wine and think back to his most recent display of cool under pressure.
~
The 49ers game two days ago had been his best performance of the season; he'd been dialed in from jump, and his stats -- 28 of 32 passes for 283 yards and 3 TDs with 0 INTs -- were even more impressive since he did it against one of the best teams in the league. The decisive 31-17 victory -- on the 49ers home turf -- was the cherry on top.
~
The sound of the garage door opening pulls you back to the present. You walk toward the kitchen, your pulse rate picking up as Joe rounds the corner and hits you with a loaded look.
"Hey babe," he greets, setting a bag of take-out from your fav Italian place on the kitchen island before closing the distance between you. His gaze slowly rakes up and down your body, a dirty grin gracing his sensual lips when he finally meets your eyes. "What's under the robe?" he asks.
"It's a surprise," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him as he lowers his head to capture your lips; you lean into him and open your mouth for his tongue, smiling against his lips when he slides his hands under your robe.
"Thigh-highs," he groans, running his fingers along your bare skin just above the stockings. "What else is under here?"
You slip out of his embrace and give him a coy look. "Why don't you take a guess?"
"Okay." He gives you another slow once-over, his gaze coming to rest on your nipples visible through the silky robe. "Nothing?" he guesses, reaching a hand out toward the belt holding your robe closed.
"You'll have to wait and see," you tease, spinning away from him and heading into the kitchen. "Can you light the fire real quick then change into the outfit laid out on our bed?"
"Yes, ma'am," he grins, giving you a wink before heading off to do your bidding.
~ ~ ~
He walks back into the kitchen just as you're finishing plating up dinner; you turn your head to look at him, doing a double take at how hot he looks in the black silk pajamas you got him to match your robe. "Damn," you sigh, giving him a thorough up-and-down look. The pajama top is unbuttoned to show his sculpted torso, the slinky pants riding deliciously low on his hips. "We better hurry up and eat before I jump you," you tease, handing him a plate full of food and a glass of wine.
"You're seriously testing my self-control," he mutters, waiting for you to grab your plate and wine glass before following you into the living room.
Y'all sit opposite each other on plush floor cushions, using the coffee table as a dining table. Joe takes a sip of wine and surveys the scene; the only light in the room comes from the fire, the scarf-draped lamp, purple string lights, and about 20 flickering candles.
"Very romantic," he smiles, digging into his dinner as you do the same. After several bites, he points at the lamp, a big grin on his face. "Remember the time we almost burned down the apartment complex at LSU?"
"Yes," you laugh along with him. That's why no candles are anywhere near that scarf."
"You freaked out when that happened," he teases.
"And your pulse rate didn't even react."
"Someone had to keep a level head."
Y'all continue making small talk as you finish eating. Once you push your plate back, he hops up and carries both of your plates to the kitchen before quickly returning with the wine bottle, pouring the remainder in your glass.
"You trying to get me tipsy?" you giggle, biting your lip when he shrugs his pajama top off and tosses it on the sofa.
"Maybe," he grins, grabbing a couple of plush throw blankets off the sofa before laying them in front of the fireplace. He grabs a log and throws it on the fire before turning to face you.
You take a gulp of wine, allowing your eyes to travel over his tall, muscular frame that's backlit by the flickering fire. "Remember the naughty lingerie that you never got to see on our secret honeymoon?" you ask.
"Yeah."
"That's what I'm wearing under the robe."
"Why don't you show me?"
You stand up and walk toward him, slowly untying the belt on your robe. "Remember the first Halloween we spent together? The naughty librarian outfit I wore?"
His eyes go wide at the memory. "Thigh-highs and crotchless panties?"
"Yep, plus a little something extra." You shrug the robe off and toss it on the sofa, your core contracting at the hot look in his eyes as he gives you a slow once-over.
"Damn," he breathes, his eyes lingering on your bare breasts exposed by your underbust corset. "Turn around," he eventually orders, quickly closing the distance between you as you do his bidding; he drops a line of kisses from your shoulder all the way up the curve of your neck, ghosting his fingertips over your nipples as you grind your ass back against him. "So fucking sexy, baby," he whispers in your ear, gently pinching and tugging your sensitive peaks. "I want you to ride my face," he continues, sliding a hand down to your crotch, slipping his fingers inside the slit in your panties to play with your slick folds.
"I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that," you whine. "Cum on my tongue instead," he purrs, removing his hand from your panties before lying down on the plush nest of blankets; he crooks two fingers at you, beckoning you toward him while slowly licking his lips. You grab your wine glass and take one more hearty gulp before straddling his face, his hot tongue immediately delving into your aching core drawing a series of whimpers and moans from you.
Your first climax hits hard and fast, but the second one comes much slower, with him strategically avoiding your super sensitive clit to keep you on the edge as long as possible before triggering your orgasm. You fall over onto your back when he finally finishes you off, your head spinning and heart pounding as you struggle to catch your breath.
You eventually flutter your eyes open, giving him a satisfied smile as he pushes up onto one arm and looks down at you. "If there was an Olympic gold medal in pussy eating, you'd def win it," you pant, cupping a hand behind his neck to pull him down for a kiss; you lick your juices off of his chin before sucking his tongue into your mouth, dropping a hand down to tease his erection through his slinky silk pants. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to sting before gently sucking it, and you feel drunk with desire as he repeats the action.
"I want you to fuck me hard," you whisper against his slick lips, slipping your hand inside his pants to grip his cock. "Tell me how you want it," he urges, making a noise between a groan and a growl as you pump him several times, gathering some precum on your fingers before sucking them clean; you roll over onto your stomach and get on all fours, throwing him a look over your shoulder as he slides his pants off before lining his tip up with your entrance.
He slowly sinks inside you, giving you a few heartbeats to adjust to his thickness before starting to move. "Harder," you whisper, dropping your head down against the plush blanket while arching your back into his thrusts. He does as ordered, picking up his pace as you fuck back against him. "Harder!" you whine, needing him to give you a taste of the pleasure/pain combo to set off your third climax.
He slows his thrusts for a bit, and you immediately open your mouth to complain. "Shhhh," he soothes, leaning forward until his chest is pressed against your back. "I got you." He shifts his weight onto his left arm and wraps his right hand around your throat, squeezing just hard enough for the edges of your vision to go hazy while relentlessly pounding into you. "Yeah," you gasp when he eases his grip. "Just like that. Don't stop!"
It takes a few more minutes to trigger your orgasm, his big hand releasing your throat just in time for you to let out a primal scream as your climax rips through you; you come close to blacking out for a second, and when you come back to your senses he's still fucking you hard, holding you up with an arm around your waist so your shaky legs don't collapse. You reach a hand back between your legs and cup his balls, your core clenching when you feel how slick he is with your arousal; you give them a gentle tug just as he buries his length deep inside you and comes apart.
Your legs eventually collapse and he lets you down easy, careful not to crush you with his big body. After several minutes of mutual heavy breathing, you roll over onto your back and turn your head to look at him, both of you laughing at how fucked out y'all look.
"That … was … amazing," he says between gulps of air, gesturing at your outfit before continuing. "Pretty sure this needs to be a Halloween tradition."
"I agree," you pant. "I've always heard sex gets boring once you get married."
He scoots closer and drops a kiss on your shoulder. "I guess we're doing it wrong."
"If we're wrong I don't wanna be right," you giggle.
"For real," he laughs with you, sitting up to help when you start unlacing your corset.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wednesday, 11/1/23
You finish packing your Halloween decorations into a few storage boxes, your eyes scanning the living room to see if you missed anything.
Your day had been decently productive -- two virtual work meetings, a few chores, and a homemade pumpkin pie, all accomplished with a delicious ache between your thighs that had you smiling every time you thought about last night.
"I'm home," Joe calls as he breezes in the side door. "Oh my God, do I smell pumpkin pie?" he groans, making a beeline for the kitchen island where the pie is cooling.
You grin at him as he leans down and takes a hearty sniff of the pie. "You want a slice now or after dinner?" you ask.
"Now!" he chirps, grabbing a plate and fork as you cut him a generous slice.
You slide the pie onto his plate and give him a wink. "I guess the AFC Offensive Player of the Week deserves to have dessert before dinner."
He takes a big bite, giving you a grin as he chews and swallows. "You'd let me have it before dinner even if I wasn't player of the week."
"Thanks for admitting you're a spoiled little shit."
"But you love me anyway, right?"
"More than anything."
"Love you, too," he mumbles around a hearty mouthful. "What's this?" he continues, pointing his fork at a stack of three countertop samples.
"The countertop samples I ordered for the lakehouse. Two quartz and one granite." You spread the rectangular slabs out on the kitchen island, pointing at the one on the far left. "I think we can eliminate this one," you state. "It's just kind of flat and blah. No pizzazz."
"I agree." He pops the last bite of pie in his mouth and sets his plate in the sink before continuing. "The other two look pretty cool."
"This is the quartz I picked out for my parents' lakehouse when they did the kitchen reno last year." You point at one sample before turning your attention to the other. "But I'm kind of feeling this granite. It's got the same black background with blue and green accents, but the accents are a little larger and blingier than the more subdued quartz."
He nods his head and steps closer, leaning down to study the granite. "It's got the teal we're using as our accent color."
"Exactly. Plus a lot of the dots remind me of your eyes -- blue, green or gray depending on what you're wearing and the way the light hits you."
"What color are they right now?" he asks, leaning close to give you a better look at his eyes.
"Blue with a hint of green," you answer, scanning the sample until you find a shimmery dot that matches. "Just like this," you continue, pointing at the colorful orb.
"Cool," he mutters, studying the dot for several seconds before grabbing your hand and stepping back a bit. "When you look at it a little farther back, all of the colorful dots look like distant galaxies floating in the vastness of space," he states. You turn your head and study his profile as he stares at the sample, a huge grin on his face as he continues. "It looks like an image from the Hubble telescope. Like a deep field shot."
"Raging space boner sequence initiated," you chirp in a robotic voice, laughing when he cuts a side-eye at you. "I'm kidding, babe. I'm glad you like it."
"I love it," he grins. "Can't wait to see it in the lakehouse."
You pull him close, tilting your head to look up at his face. "I'm really proud of you. You fought through a very painful calf injury, never complaining about the pain or how it hampered your mobility. Everybody got a nice reminder last Sunday of just how fucking amazing you are when you're mostly healthy."
"Thanks," he mumbles, his 'aw shucks' body language making you smile as he leans down to give you a quick kiss before continuing. "I'm optimistic that my calf will continue to improve. We might just save the season after all."
"After the clinic you put on against the 49ers, I bet the Bills are shaking in their cleats," you chuckle.
"Time to unleash hell," he grins.
"Damn right." You wrap a hand behind the nape of his neck and pull him down for a kiss, your outlook on the season feeling really positive for the first time since before his calf injury.
311 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Beach House
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader (and some Yelena Belova x Female Reader)
You spend your summers at a beach house with Natasha and Yelena. You’ve always had a crush on the oldest girl, but what happens this summer when Yelena starts crushing on you?
Note: This was fun to write! It’s partially based on the show The Summer I Turned Pretty, so if you’ve seen that you know things get messy and juicy 😂 It’s mostly Nat x reader, but Yelena can’t be ignored here. Enjoy it and let me know what you think!
Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist
For as long as you can remember, you have spent every summer at the beach house with Yelena, Natasha, and their parents.
Your parents had been friends for a long time and growing up together you have always been close with Yelena and Natasha. Especially Yelena.
The blonde girl is close to your age, and you’ve clicked since day one. Running around the beach and baking cookies together before watching movies have been some of your favorite pastimes every summer.
Natasha used to join in, but last summer you noticed a change in her. She is older, and fresh out of college while you and Yelena are only in your second year. Natasha started acting like she was too old for your antics.
But you missed her. During those moments, you kept wishing she was there. And you had to admit to yourself that you liked her. There had been a summer a few years back when you realized that you were attracted to her, but the crush continued to blossom.
And now, this summer, it’s in full effect. You arrive at the beach house with your parents and hop out of the car to find Yelena waiting for you.
“Y/n! You’re here!” she shouts, pulling you into a hug.
“I missed you so much!” you tell her, burying your face in her neck.
Yelena pulls away from the hug and looks you over.
“Damn, you got hot,” she says. A heat rises up your neck. Nat may be the one you have a crush on, but Yelena is far from unattractive. “Alright come on in. My mama wants to see you.”
You follow the girl inside and Melina is waiting by the kitchen counter.
“Ah, dorogoy, come here!” Melina says, her accented voice sounds nostalgic. “My goodness, you grew up even more than last year!”
She pulls you into a hug and you greet her happily. She has always been like a second mother to you.
“It’s good to see you, Melina. Where’s Alexei?”
“Oh, he’s out with Natasha. They are fishing today,” she says.
“Sounds fun.”
“It’s not,” Yelena says. Her head is buried in her phone, and you make a mental note to ask her what that’s about.
After all the greetings, you go upstairs to put your luggage in your room. It’s the same one you’ve been using since you were a little kid, and it feels like coming home every time you step inside. The walls are lined with pictures from every summer before. And the dresser is littered with movie tickets, seashells, and a stuffed bear that Natasha won for you at the summer carnival.
You were only 10 at the time and wanted it more than anything. She spent over an hour playing a game to get enough tickets to cash them in for the bear. You miss that version of her.
“Y/n,” Yelena barges into your room and interrupts your thoughts. She plops onto your bed. “Let’s go to the beach.”
“I’m just settling in, Yel. Maybe another time,” you tell her.
“Come onnnnn,” she begs. “I haven’t been today, and I waited for my best friend to go with me. Please, please, please!”
“Fine,” you relent.
“Yes! Meet you downstairs in ten,” she says.
You grin at her antics and get changed into a swimsuit. Most summers you have been modest, but this year you decided to try out a new bikini. Your friend Jane had convinced you that it was about time. You slip on a Hawaiian button-up shirt and go downstairs.
As you open the front door, you are met with two people on the other side.
“Y/n!” Alexei yells. “I would hug you, but I smell like fish!”
“Nice to see you, Alexei,” you say.
He moves inside and reveals Natasha standing behind him. She doesn’t look like she’s been fishing all day. She looks perfect.
“Hey- hi Natasha,” you say.
Her eyes rake over your body and land back on yours.
“You grew up,” Natasha acknowledges.
“Yeah, I guess,” you reply, not really knowing what to say. “I’m going to swim with Yelena, so excuse me.”
“Have fun,” she says. You walk by her, and she watches you go. She kicks herself for not saying something better to you, but she didn’t know how to react. You were always beautiful to her, but something felt different when she saw you this time.
You spend the rest of the day with Yelena on the beach laughing and catching up with each other. She tells you about this new girl she’s talking to, Kate, and how she doesn’t know if the girl feels the same. Yelena explains that Kate is going to be at a party and practically begs you to say yes to going.
The first day ends like every day at the beach house does, watching the sunset with your friends and family.
The next morning, Natasha and Yelena are up early to go help Alexei at the docks. They tried to convince you to go with them, but you got out of it. One time of getting seasick years ago and they accept your excuse that it could happen again.
Instead, you go to town and buy drinks for the party tonight. At the store, you run into a beautiful girl.
“Are you new around here?” the girl asks.
“I’ve been coming here since I was a kid actually. But this,” you gesture to the drinks in front of you, “is new.”
The girl laughs gloriously and sticks her hand out for you to shake.
“I’m Wanda,” she says.
“Y/n,” you reply. “Are you going to the party tonight?”
“I was thinking about it,” Wanda answers. “If a pretty girl like you is going to be there, then I think I’ll make an appearance.”
“I’ll see you there then,” you say. You’re not sure where the sudden wave of confidence comes from, but you’re satisfied with yourself.
You bid Wanda a goodbye and drive back to the house. Later when Yelena and Nat return, they get dressed and you tell your parents you’re going out. They don’t love the idea, but Natasha promises to keep a watch on everyone.
Natasha drives to the other side of the beach and there’s already a good number of people at the party. A bonfire rests in the middle as everyone talks and music plays from the speakers.
“Don’t get into any trouble,” Nat says, taking her own bag of drinks and disappearing into the crowd. You try not to feel disappointed that she’s not going to hang out with you and Yelena.
“Oh, god, okay there she is,” Yelena says. She turns towards you to avoid staring directly at Kate.
“She’s cute,” you tease her. “Go talk to her.”
“No way,” Yelena says.
“Why? Don’t you text her like all the time?”
“Yes, but that’s different.”
“Fair enough,” you say.
Yelena takes a long sip of her drink, and you laugh. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the girl from the store today. Wanda.
“Oh shit, she actually came,” you mumble.
“Who?” Yelena asks.
“I forgot to tell you,” you begin. “I met a girl today at the store and kind of invited her.”
“Well, well, well. Y/n, the smooth talker,” Yelena teases. “Where is she?”
You point to the girl who’s standing by the bonfire and talking to a guy.
“Fuck,” Yelena mumbles.
“What?”
“That’s Wanda Maximoff,” Yelena says.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?”
“She hooks up with like everyone, including Natasha.”
“Oh,” you say. The idea of someone else hooking up with Nat breaks your heart.
“Trust me, you don’t want to go down that path,” Yelena says. Her usual funny nature fades into a serious voice.
“I won’t,” you say. “Oh, look here comes Kate. You look great.”
The tall brunette approaches you and Yelena. She smiles at Yelena and the blonde’s legs threaten to give out.
“Hey I’m Kate, I don’t think we’ve met,” she speaks to you first.
“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you,” you tell her.
“Hey Yelena,” Kate says. Both girls blush.
“I’m going to grab another drink,” you excuse yourself.
Walking towards the drinks, you run into Wanda.
“There’s the prettiest girl here,” Wanda says. “I was looking for you.”
“Oh, hey yeah I was with some friends,” you say. You try not to sound too interested, but the woman is compelling.
You don’t notice Natasha’s eyes on you and Wanda.
“Nat? Are you even listening?” Maria asks the woman.
“Hm? Yeah, yes, I’m sorry,” Natasha says. She kisses the woman on the cheek quickly. “I’ll be right back.”
Natasha makes her way over to you and Wanda. Yelena notices and tries to interfere.
“Nat, I already told her to not get with her. She’s fine. They’re just talking,” Yelena says.
“I don’t fucking care. She needs to stay away from y/n,” Natasha says.
The redhead barges past Yelena. She places a hand on Wanda’s shoulder.
“Well hello Romanoff,” Wanda says with a grin.
“Don’t. Why are you talking to y/n? I thought I told you to stay away from these parties,” Natasha says.
“Natasha, hey it’s fine. I can handle myself. We were just talking,” you try to cut in.
“You heard the girl,” Wanda says.
“Leave her alone,” Natasha grits out. “Or I swear to god you will regret it.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Wanda asks, getting in the girl’s face.
“Alright, let’s just calm down here,” Yelena tries to diffuse the situation. “Why don’t you just leave Wanda?”
“I have a right to be here,” Wanda says.
The girl is taller than Natasha, but Nat doesn’t back down. Not even slightly.
They stare each other down for what feels like forever before Carol, whose party this is in the first place, comes over to the group of you.
“All of you have to go,” Carol says. “Come on, Natasha, I thought you were better than this.”
“Whatever,” Nat mumbles. You and Yelena follow her to the car. Yelena apologizes to Kate.
“Hey, you can’t just do that shit to me Nat! I was just talking to her!” You yell.
“Just get in the car,” Nat instructs.
“Get in, y/n,” Yelena says.
You relent and get into the car.
The next morning you see Natasha sitting on the balcony overlooking the beach. You take a deep breath and walk toward her.
“Hey Natasha,” you say. She lifts up her head from the book she’s reading. “Can we talk?”
She doesn’t reply but she pulls out the chair next to her and gestures to it.
“I don’t think it was cool that you interrupted me and Wanda last night,” you say. “Nothing was going to happen.”
Nat shakes her head. “You need to stay away from her.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know. I know- it’s just that I have the urge to protect you,” Nat admits. “Maybe I did overreact though. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” you say.
“So, are you going to the carnival tonight?” Nat asks. It’s the first effort she’s made at small talk all week.
“I think so, yeah. Yel wants to go,” you say. “What about you?”
“Maria wants to go, but I would rather just stay here and read,” Natasha says.
“Are you- um- dating Maria?”
Natasha seems to think about it for a moment. “No, but we’ve gone out a few times. She’s pretty and nice, but it’s nothing serious.”
“Right,” you say. You see Yelena come towards the balcony, so you excuse yourself. “I’ll see you later.”
Before Nat can reply, you’re out the door and Yelena fills the empty seat next to her. She sits in it sideways, and half of her legs end up in Natasha’s lap.
“I’m sorry about last night,” Natasha says.
“I know you are,” Yelena says. “But I do want to ask you why you got so defensive of y/n. We’re not little kids anymore, you know.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Nat says. She looks out over the water and the morning sky.
“You do know.”
“I don’t.”
“Natasha,” Yelena says sternly.
“Yelena,” the redhead matches her tone. “Fine. I may possibly be somewhat into her.”
“I knew it!” Yelena says. “Ever since last summer you’ve been weird about her!”
“Shut up,” Natasha says. “It’s just a crush. It’s stupid.”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Yelena says. “She’s beautiful. I’ve even had my moments this summer where I think about her.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep,” Yelena says. “But liking your best friend is a shitty idea.”
“I don’t know about that,” Natasha says. “Odds are she doesn’t like either of us.”
“That’s probably true,” Yelena says.
The two sisters laugh and start talking about other stuff. You didn’t mean to overhear their conversation. And you definitely shouldn’t have stayed once they started talking about you, but you did, and you can’t believe both girls like you. You don’t even always like yourself.
For the rest of the day, you mostly avoid the girls. It wasn’t too hard since Melina and your mom asked you to go shopping with them. Melina always does too much and buys you more clothes than you could ever need. But it’s a fun day, nonetheless.
When you get back to the house, Yelena is waiting for you by the stairs. She is wearing a swimsuit and you can’t pretend not to notice. You never let yourself think of her like this, but God she is beautiful. She follows you up the stairs.
“Are you still down to go to the carnival tonight?” Yelena asks.
“Yeah. Who else is going?” You ask.
“I was thinking just us. Like old times,” Yelena responds. A cute smile is on her face.
“Sounds perfect. I’ll get changed.”
In your room, you wonder what you should wear. It’s just two old friends going to the carnival, you remind yourself. You slip on a dress and go to Yelena’s room.
You knock on the door frame. “You ready?”
“Yes,” she says, turning from her vanity. “You look good.”
“Thank you,” you reply a little shyly. “So do you.”
She’s wearing high-waisted blue jean shorts and a green crop top. Her eyes are perfectly accented by the color.
Yelena drives to the pier and you two enter the carnival. You play all of the usual games and eat way too much food. She asks you to go on the Ferris wheel with her.
“I’m scared of heights,” you remind her.
“It’ll be fun! I promise I’ll keep you safe! Please!” the girl begs.
“Alright, fine,” you relent.
You wait in line and sit in the seat together. It starts going up and you hold her hand.
“You’re good, detka. You’re good,” Yelena says.
“What does that mean?” You ask before you bury your face in her neck in fear.
She laughs and soon you come to a halt at the top.
“Y/n, look,” Yelena says. She uses her hand to pull your head from her and you peak out at the view. “Look how beautiful it is.”
“Oh, wow,” you say, looking at the way the moon falls over the ocean. You accidentally glance too far down and scare yourself again.
“Woah, hey you’re alright, malysh. Relax,” Yelena says. “Just look at me.”
And you do. You look at her eyes. And her perfect lips. Her hands on either side of your face brush softly against your skin.
“Yelena-”
You’re cut off by her lips on yours. They’re so soft and gentle. It doesn’t feel odd at all to kiss your best friend, but you’re not sure if sparks are flying either. The kiss breaks when the Ferris wheel starts moving again.
“That was-”
“Yeah,” you interrupt Yelena this time. “I didn’t know you- um- liked me like that.”
“I honestly didn’t realize it until this summer,” Yelena explains.
“Look Yelena, maybe we should just be friends?”
“Oh.”
“Not that that kiss wasn’t amazing or anything! But I just don’t want things to get fucked up, you know,” you explain.
“Right. No, you’re making sense,” Yelena says. She wonders if maybe Nat was right.
“You should text Kate,” you tell her. The ride is over, and you hop off. “I’m going to head out.”
“I’ll drive you,” Yelena says.
“That’s okay. Kate is here and you two should hang out.”
Yelena pulls you into a long hug. “I love you, y/n.”
“I love you too, Yelena,” you say.
You catch a ride with another friend of yours, Monica. She takes you to the beach house. You thank her and catch sight of Natasha in the pool.
“So, you didn’t make it to the carnival?” you ask her.
“Nah,” Nat says. “You did?”
“Yep,” you say.
You sit on the edge and put your feet in the pool. Nat swims over to you. Her red hair looks beautiful as it falls over her back.
“How was it?” Natasha asks.
“Eventful,” is all you supply. “How was your night?”
“TBD,” she says.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Join me?” She asks.
“In the pool?”
“Where else?”
“I’m not in a swimsuit,” you say.
“So? Like old times, come on,” Natasha says. The alluring smile on her face doesn’t leave you room to argue.
You let her pull you into the pool. She holds you under the water like she did when you were kids.
“Hey!” you splash her with water when you come up to the surface. “Meanie!”
“Meanie? What are you seven?”
“Shut up,” you say.
Natasha tries to grab you to pull you under again, but you escape her grasp. She pushes you against the wall and you’re pinned by her. Her legs intertwine with yours. Natasha’s lips hover just inches from yours.
“You’re so beautiful,” Nat says. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?”
Your heart is screaming yes, but your mind is in dilemma.
“Y/n?” Nat tries.
“Yeah- yes please,” you say. Fuck it.
Natasha smiles and pulls you by the neck into a kiss. It’s rougher than the one with Yelena. It’s hungrier and more handsy. Nat’s hand slips under the neckline of your dress.
“Wait,” you say into the kiss.
Natasha pulls away and looks at you. “What’s wrong? I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I just- I can’t do this right now,” you say.
You get out of the pool quickly and leave Natasha there confused. And Yelena was watching the whole thing from the driveway.
God, what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#yelena belova#yelena belova x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#kate bishop#carol danvers#monica rambeau
583 notes
·
View notes
Text
like couples do | knj
you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....
description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3
wc: ~1.6k words
+
Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.
Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...
Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.
Fuck.
Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.
Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection…
It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.
This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening.
The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.
Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.
You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.
He had to answer.
+
to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?
to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.
to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain
to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….
to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember?
to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon
to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.
to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)
+
The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.
“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”
“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table.
“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.
“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.
“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.
“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.
“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.
“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation.
Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”
“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.
“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”
Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.
“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”
Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.
"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.
"Oh, she’s pretty!”
"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."
"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.
“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"
"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.
"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”
“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage.
“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….”
“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."
“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.
“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.
“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.
“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes.
“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”
#namjoon drabble#namjoon fluff#namjoon fic#namjoon fanfic#namjoon fanfiction#namjoon imagine#namjoon scenarios#rm fluff#rm one shot#namjoon oneshot#namjoon one shot#rm fic#rm fanfic#rm fanfiction#rm scenarios#rm imagine#bts scenarios#bts one shot#bts fluff#bts fanfiction#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts reaction#bts scenario#kim namjoon imagine#kim namjoon fanfic#kim namjoon x reader
274 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kuai Liang HCS (SFW & NSFW) V.2
A/N: Version 2!!!! honestly i like this one better but ill do whichever you guys like better, this one is longer than the first version and its written with fem reader in mind.
.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.
How you met (SFW):
- You two met while Kuai was out during one of his daily walks around the village.
- You worked at a small fruit and vegetable stand that your grandmother owned.
- He saw you being harassed by an unhappy customer and decided to step in.
- Apparently the customer didn't know fruits rot if you don't refrigerate them and they were just gonna make it your problem instead (dumbass).
- After a whole 10 minutes of dealing with that prick, they finally left you alone. You apologized to Kuai for the inconvenience but he just shook his head.
- "No need to apologize, you probably deal with idiots like that every day" he chuckled at that last part which made you flush a little.
- "Trust me it doesn't get any easier" you huffed and Kuai just smiled. "Let me repay you, please" you bowed slightly but Kuai refused again.
- You were stubborn though, and you prepared him a basket of various fruits and vegetables for him to take, "Please take them, if you don't i'll have to get on my knees and start begging" you joked. Kuai laughed and just gave up, taking the basket and thanking you.
- Your first impression of him: Nice hair, calm and warm smile.
- His first impression of you: Pretty face, shy and funny.
How your relationship blossomed (SFW):
- After your first meeting, Kuai kept thinking about you. He made good use of the fruits and veggies, noting how fresh they were.
- Every day, when he could, he would walk up to your stand and pretend to look at the produce until you noticed him.
- You two would talk until you had to close up shop. You found it strange but you certainly didn't mind his company.
- "So, you run this stand all by yourself?" he asked one day, standing besides you as you organized some tomatoes. "Well technically yes, my grandmother is the mastermind behind it though" you laughed and Kuai smiled at that, he really liked your laugh.
- After weeks of this routine you two became close friends, and Kuai would sometimes invite you over to dinner at Madam Bo's or, on your off days, would invite you to join him on his daily hikes/walks.
- On one of those occasions, Kuai had worked up the courage to officially ask you out, and to his surprise you were very enthusiastic about it.
- "You want to go out with me? Are you sure?" you joked, "Well on second thought . . . " he joked back. You both laughed it off and planned a cute picnic date on the weekend.
- After the first date came the second one, and then the third one, and then the fourth and fifth . . . well you get the point.
- On the sixth date, Kuai took you to the beach to watch the sunset. It was there that you both shared your first kiss.
- "About time don't you think?" you jokingly said, "I do admit I waited a bit too long . . ." he replied softly. You laughed, "You might have a small habit of torturing yourself Kuai".
Your first time (NSFW):
- Kuai is a very patient man, he didn't want to rush into anything you didn't want to do, so naturally he waited a long time to initiate something more intimate.
- You, however, were not THAT patient and shyly suggested that the two of you go further.
- Kuai was taken aback, and he felt bad that he made you wait this long.
- Kuai was loving, he wasn't rough as he wanted your first time to be romantic and memorable.
- Spent an ungodly amount of time on foreplay, took his time exploring every inch of your body (you were not complaining).
- If it wasn't obvious already, has a body worship kink. Would spend hours just worshipping your body without any sort of penetration or actual sex.
- He's not a virgin, so he knew what he was doing. He knows all the right places to touch you, what makes you squirm and whine.
- Talked you through it the whole way. "Are okay princess?" "Let me know if you want to stop" "Does that feel good?" "Don't hold back, I want to hear you"
- Teasing turned up to the MAX. He's secretly a little shit.
- Strong advocate for safe sex, used a condom and made sure you were comfortable.
- Aftercare KING. After he made sure you were okay, he cleaned you up and set up a nice warm bath. Got you and himself dressed up in comfortable clothes and spent the rest of the night cuddling each other to sleep.
.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.
A/N: posted two times in a row on the same day, i feel rejuvenated. please let me know of u like this one better!! also looking back its not that fem reader centric so yayy!!
#mortal kombat#fanfic#mk1#mk1 2023#foryou#afab reader#gender neutral reader#scorpion mortal kombat#kuai liang x reader#kuai liang#lin kuei#shirai ryu#female reader#scorpion x you
133 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Girl Next Door: Chapter 2 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)
Fic master post here (feel free to comment to be added to taglist)
The Girl Next Door
You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes.
Chapter 2
Car rides with Hazel have you falling for her harder than ever.
CW: mentions of blood and injury, mentions of violence, cursing, Taylor Swift references (I know not everyone is a fan so if people don't like it, I won't add anymore) *not beta read
You and Hazel walk to your car in silence. You get in the car and pass her the aux. “You still listen to Taylor Swift?” She asks shyly.
“Of course I do!” You tell her with the biggest smile. She remembers your favorite singer. Does she remember all the times you would sing those songs together?
“What do you think about the new albums? And the re-recordings?” Hazel sounds excited to talk about Taylor Swift too, she remembers.
“The 10 Minute Version of All Too Well has literally changed my life.”
“Should I put it on?”
“Absolutely!”
Before you know it you are on your way home, scream singing the 10 Minute Version of All Too Well, with Hazel. Since the song came out you’ve been listening to it over and over and thinking about her. There were so many lyrics that reminded you of your relationship with her.
Her sweet disposition, and your wide eyed gaze. Being able to picture it after all these days. You might be okay but you’re not fine at all. How you got lost in translation. You had lost the one real thing you had ever known. It was rare, you were there, you remember it all to well.
But singing these lyrics with her, it was healing all those old wounds in a way you didn’t know was possible. You were stealing glances to see the smile on her face. Sometimes she would catch your gaze. As the words “ever lovely jewel” play she’s looking right at you.
Usually you were happy to live so close to the school. It was convenient. But with Hazel beside you it just wasn’t enough time. It’s hard to keep the smile on your face as you pull into your driveway, knowing that your time together is about to end.
As soon as you are parked Hazel throws open the door, like she’s trying to run away.
“Wait!” You yell at her, wondering why she’s so anxious the get out of your car. You do have to admit that this was a little overwhelming for you and it probably was for her too. She was the one that left you. She probably never wanted to be in this situation.
She’s halfway out the door when she acknowledges you. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at you.
You nervously clear your throat.
“I just wanted to see if 8:00 was good for tomorrow morning…”
“Yeah. Yes. See you then.” Is all she has to say before she’s out and walking away from your car.
You were hurt for a moment but you started to watch her walk away and you realized that her wearing your sweatshirt meant that she was wearing your last name across her back. You just started giggling and then you punched your fist in the air and said “yes” when you thought about the smell of your perfume being stuck on her, even if it was only for a little while. You were never religious but you point up at the sky and say thank you.
That night you spent about an hour curating the perfect outfit and set your alarm for an extra hour early so you would have time to perfect your makeup.
When your alarm goes off the next morning you are immediately up and getting ready for the day, which is as stark contrast to your usual slamming of the snooze button.
You usually just filled in your eyebrows and put on mascara for school but today you were going to be the first person Hazel saw and you wanted to stay on her mind all day.
You start with your face. A little bronzer to warm up your face and a little blush to liven you up. Some highlighter on your cheekbones and the tip of your nose to catch light, and Hazel's attention. You also add a bit of highlighter to the inner corner of your eyes to draw her eyes right where you wanted it. You add a subtle wing to further accentuate your eyes and then do your usual mascara and brow routine. You finish off with your lips. You over-line them with a darker brown and fill them in with a nude lipstick to make them look as full as they can. You add a layer of lip gloss on top to make them look as inviting as possible. Not that you expect anything to come of this, but you can dream, right?
Your light wash ripped jeans are high waisted and perfectly hug the shape of your body. Your shirt is the perfect amount of low cut to highlight your assets and short enough to expose a tasteful amount of midriff. You put on your trusty pair of converse for good luck.
You are in your car a few minutes early feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. You sip on your coffee as you wait for Hazel.
The clock hits 8:00, no Hazel. Not a problem though. You told her a few minutes early because you know she has a tendency to run late. That girl is nothing if not easily distracted.
Hazel emerges from her house at 8:05 looking a little disheveled. She’s got hair sticking up out of place and she’s wearing… holy shit she is wearing your sweatshirt again!
Hazel plops down into your car. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be late. I was just thinking about… things, and lost track of time.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You tell her, and you can’t help yourself from pointing out “I see that you’re still wearing my sweatshirt.”
Her eyes widen, pupils dilating, and a bright red flush appears on her face.
“I, um, fell asleep in it last night. And I didn’t have time to find another sweatshirt after getting dressed,” she tries excuse but you don’t need any justification. It takes everything in you not to giggle and kick your feet. Your sweatshirt. On Hazel all night. The smell of your perfume on her and now on her pillows and sheets.
You just nod, “makes sense.”
“I didn’t even have time to make coffee,” she shakes her head in disappointment.
You are not really sure what caffeine would do to someone like Hazel but you still offer “you can have some of mine.” You didn’t think it was possible, but she is blushing even more.
“No, it’s totally fine. It’s my fault I don’t have any coffee. I’m the one that got distracted. You shouldn’t have to give up any of your coffee because I’m a mess.”
“I don’t usually finish it before it gets cold. So feel free to go for it.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“We used to share everything, right?” You remind her.
“We used to share everything.” She echos.
She mumbles something under her breath that you can’t quite make out. But to your surprise she picks up the coffee and takes a sip.
You bite down a smile when you see a bit of your lipstick on her mouth, it must have gotten left behind from when you were drinking it.
“What?” She questions, seeing your failed attempt at holding back a smile.
“You’ve got a little something…” you motion to your mouth.
She looks confused and opens the visor to look in the mirror. You expect her to be upset that your lipstick got on her but she just giggles. “Believe me, this color looks very good on you, but I think it looks even better on me.”
You can’t help but giggle too.
To your surprise she doesn’t bother to wipe the lipstick off, she just leaves it there. Leaving behind the indirect connection of your lips for anyone to see. Not your ideal way to leave your lipstick on her lips but you can’t complain either.
Your sweatshirt. Your lipstick. You feel like you are going to pass out.
You clear your throat, “we should probably get going…” Hazel nods in agreement.
You turn on the car and put it in reverse.
“Can I have the aux?” She asks.
“Go for it.” You pull out of the driveway.
“I made us a playlist.” Your jaw drops and you accidentally slam on the breaks.
You look at Hazel and Hazel looks at you in a panic. “I’m so sorry!” You tell her.
“It’s ok, it’s fine, it’s all good,” she tries to assure you but she is clearly fearing for her life. How stupid could you be? Hazel will never get in your car again after this!
You just stare at her for a minute trying to gauge where she’s at. She clears her throat. “You should probably drive now…” she suggests.
You just nod and start to drive, focusing on the road, afraid to make eye contact.
“So, the playlist,” she says very hesitantly, “it’s all the Taylor Swift songs we haven’t gotten to listen to together.”
Your mouth drops open and you are speechless.
Her eyes widen, and she quickly tries remedy the situation “if you don’t want to listen to it we don’t have to!”
“No! That’s not it. I’m just surprised. That’s all.” You mumble, just clear enough for her to understand what you are saying.
“I always used to make us playlists,” it’s her turn to remind you. The memory is a little bittersweet, tainted by the years of separation. Music starts playing over the speaker.
If there is one thing people should know about Hazel it’s that she’s a talker. She can talk about anything and everything for hours on end. But in the best way possible. She always puts a smile on the face of whoever she is talking to. It’s quite endearing.
Hazel goes off on a tangent about fight club. After telling you the story of how she ended up in the state you found her in yesterday she pauses for a moment.
“You could always come with me today, to fight club. We meet everyday after school.” She shyly offers.
“Hazel I don’t know if you remember the blood all over you yesterday, but I do. And you have a black eye.” You are thinking it but neglect to mention how the black eye and smear of your lipstick are making you feel a certain type of way.
“Yes there are, side effects, but it’s worth it to learn how to defend yourself. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.” That last part comes out as more of a mumble that may not have been intended for you to hear.
You start to take the offer into consideration. How far are you willing to go to spend more time with Hazel? You don’t want to seem desperate, doing something you clearly don’t want to do just for her. So you ask “Isabel and Brittany are in the club, right?” They are two of your very close friends.
“Yeah, and a bunch of other girls. I promise that everyone is really nice. Everyone except PJ. No one is trying to hurt you. Everyone except PJ. But if you are worried about who you are going to have to fight, you can just pair up with me until you get comfortable. You know I would never do anything to hurt you.” A lump forms in your throat and you focus on the road, afraid that if you look at her you will burst into tears. If asked at the age of 13 you would have said that Hazel would never in a million years do anything to hurt you. You absolutely believe she would never physically harm you. But she didn’t just break your heart, she ripped it out of your chest and stomped on it. If anything you would have preferred for her to have punched you square in the face. That pain would have only been temporary. A million thoughts are swimming through your mind but you snap back into reality once you realize that you just parked your car.
You thought the pain of losing Hazel was the worst thing you would ever feel. But now that you are thinking about it, missing out on the opportunity to get Hazel back would be astronomically worse. You remind yourself that you wouldn’t be getting Hazel in the way that you truly want her. But it was better than not having her at all. You turn towards her and she is looking at you expectantly.
You let out a deep breath you don’t know you were holding in when you tell her: “fuck it, I’m in.” Her face lights up.
“It’s going to be great,” she assures you, “I promise.” She holds out her pinky and you feel butterflies in your stomach. You hook your pinky around hers and you both kiss your thumbs. The way you always used to.
#hazel callahan bottoms#hazel callahan#hazel bottoms#hazel x reader#hazelfanfic#bottoms hazel#hazel callahan blurb#hazel callahan brainrot#hazel callahan fanfiction#hazel callahan fluff#hazel callahan fic#hazel callahan headcanons#hazel callahan imagine#hazel callahan x fem reader#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan x fem!reader#hazel callahan x you#hazel from bottoms#hazelcallahan#bottoms 2023#bottoms fanfic#bottoms movie#bottoms x reader
85 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
gshadowsinger
Untitled
bedobecef
Untitled
bedobecef
Untitled
twdxlover
bubba.
eileentheraven
KNOCK FIRST