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#(yes I'll be still making gifs from this show)
fluffycrow · 2 years
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Our Blues (2022) – episode 14
+bonus:
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computer-wizard · 2 years
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some more gifs
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chuluoyi · 4 months
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࿐ ࿔ rivals... in love? — extended cut !
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this is pure hysterics, i'm sorry but i can't resist! tysm for the brainrot amy!! @seonghrtz 🫶🏻 mwah mwah !!
a part of gojo's love entries
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“you see… if you kiss me, i'll definitely show you just how great my lips actually are.”
you’d expect this sort of nonsense from gojo satoru, yet it was geto suguru who was standing in front of you with such genial smile that you were at a loss.
you dumbly blinked. “huh?”
“satoru said i taste like a cursed spirit, yeah?” suguru didn't seem offended, at least from how he was wording it and that eye smile. “that's a really foul accusation. i’m here to clarify—”
you widened your eyes, almost cringing. “no, no! you don’t have to—”
“SUGURU! YOU SWINE!”
a resounding bang. you whipped your head towards the door in total panic, which was... fortunately still tightly shut. satoru, who had openly declared that he was into you in the previous chapter, was hurling profanities towards his best friend, pounding against the door, visibly vexed.
“you… locked the door?” you questioned suguru in disbelief, and he merely shrugged.
“for safety purposes, yeah.”
well, if you look at satoru now... he did look like a super angry cat who was ready to pounce on suguru and claw him to shreds.
“he could've blasted it.” you glanced apprehensively toward the door, catching his eyes, and in an instant, satoru's scowl turned into the most hopeful expression of a wagging puppy—hoping for you to saunter towards him instead and desert his friend altogether.
suguru chuckled. “he can, yes, but he'll be facing yaga afterwards.”
and you. there was no way he'd scare you off by blasting a ‘red’ on a doorframe. you were clueless, but suguru knew just how soft satoru could make himself to be if it was for you.
you sighed. all you wanted was to go back to your dorms following an exhausting mission. you truly had little energy to entertain this.
meanwhile, outside, satoru was this close to kick the door off its hinges. he was having about thirty different heart attacks by witnessing how close suguru was to your vicinity. his chance was quite literally slipping by each second.
and when in his attempt to hear what the two of you were saying—
“let us just kiss then, to see what it’s like—”
“geto-san, what the—!”
and in that moment, he really saw green and really used a bit more force, tearing the knob— bang!
“don't you dare to get close to my girl, you slimy bangs!”
kapow! pow!
what was even happening? one second, suguru was almost leaning in for that kiss, and the next, satoru popped out of nowhere, tackling him to the ground. and you stood there, utterly bewildered, caught between the whirlwind of their catfight.
your first crush, whom you thought was sensible, and the most obnoxious boy who was whipped for you like a fool...
losers, you absentmindedly thought to yourself. both of them. losers…
“satoru, you're incorrigible!”
“the audacity! you know very well i like her and yet—!”
and yet, a small smile tugged at your lips when you saw how red-faced satoru was. he was genuinely upset to see you with suguru, and that sparked a sense of achievement within you.
“let's see if you will be able to make him say it...”
while you pondered, almost giddy, you were undoubtedly sure about two things at that moment: one, maybe gojo satoru wasn't that bad, he was kinda cute even, and you might consider him... and two—
shoko lost the bet, and you won.
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kitscutie · 5 months
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hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹
snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)
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pairing: coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: none!
summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.
a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!
word count: 2.2k
join my taglist here.
"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.
You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.
"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.
"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.
"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.
"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.
You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.
"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.
"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.
"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.
"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.
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You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.
"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.
"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.
"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.
"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.
"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.
"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.
"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.
"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.
"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.
"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.
You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.
"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.
"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.
"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.
"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.
"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.
"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.
"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.
"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.
"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.
"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.
As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.
Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.
She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.
He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.
"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.
"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.
The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.
You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.
Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.
Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.
"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.
"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.
"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.
"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.
"Okay." You said.
"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.
His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.
Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.
"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.
"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.
"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.
"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.
"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.
"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.
"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.
"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.
"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.
You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.
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TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum
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eviebane · 4 months
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Cannot believe the plot of S2 was:
Aziraphale's old boss shows up completely naked & with amnesia, Aziraphale wants to adopt him and Crowley says No, then shoots fucking lighting and it literally becomes the Locked Door trope for the lesbian neighbours
Crowley's old boss turns up and is like Have you seen my boyfriend the Archangel. btw Heaven has a Death Note. And Crowley goes Ah shit and drives back to his husband's shop, does a little apology dance, then they casually do a miracle with enough power to raise TWENTY FIVE people from the dead in order to turn the Commander of the Heavenly Host into the Bookshop Assistant
Heaven rocks up and goes Um Aziraphale what the fuck was that about? and he panics and says Ah yes, I made the lesbians over the road fall in love because one of them gets my favourite records
Heaven sends an angel to verify his painfully bullshit story, but they have literally never been to Earth before so Aziraphale just makes them tea and Crowley's winds them up by being a little shit as usual. Then Crowley goes Hey husband can we have a lil chat and Aziraphale goes Yes darling let's shut the door in the most suggestive way possible, then joke about how I'm a terrible liar, but also I want to roadtrip darling so can I borrow our car? And Crowley's like Fucking fine I guess I'll try and get the lesbians to hook up & look after our new children
He's a great terrible house-spouse while Aziraphale larps in Scotland for a couple days, then Aziraphale decides to get the whole neighbourhood to role-play Jane Austin while still trying to make the lesbians shag
Then Crowley's replacement throws a brick through the window, yeets the dude who's been crushing on Aziraphale. So Crowley goes Alright husband stay put, I'll take these loser mortals outta here. Then he has a little spy mission in Heaven with one of his new children, while Aziraphale declares war on Hell to avoid ruining the good books via yeeting them at demons
The whole gang arrive, Aziraphale’s ex-boss and Crowley's ex-boss High School Musical their way off the face of the planet, then S2 ends.
That's it. Credits roll right here
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elixrr · 2 months
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“could you be seen with me and still act proud?”
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➢ Jing Yuan, Argenti, Aventurine, Dan Heng, Blade, Xiao, Childe, Wanderer, Zhongli
➢ Star Rail / Genshin x [GN] Reader
➥ (their answer + reaction to this question)
➥ (comfort / fluff)
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✧ - JING YUAN
“Why, of course. I would hold your hand up for the whole of the Xianzhou to see.”
This was pretty expected of the sly general. However, what was unexpected was the way he took you in his arms and lifted you up—bridal style. You begged him to put you down as he opened the doors of his and your room, now making his way outside to remind the whole Xianzhou that you're his and he's yours.
✧ - ARGENTI
“Dearest love—of course, I would be so proud to have the chance to take the hand of mortal beauty itself, and, if it were chivalrous, I would boast about your beauty everywhere I go.”
Ever so poetic, Argenti pulls your heart strings again with his creative (yet cheesy) lines. He loves you; that's a fact that nobody can deny, and he believes that you were sent down by Idrila herself with how attractive you are. Without a hesitant thought, he backs away and offers you his hand—will you accept the offer in which he takes you from place to place, hand in hand, to show the whole world that your his love?
✧ - AVENTURINE
“You wanna take a bet? Here, I'll take you out to dinner if you guess my answer correctly—get it wrong, and I decide on what I'll do with you.”
With a wink and a smile turning into a smirk, it's always hard to guess what Aventurine is thinking, but with the clock ticking, you hardly get time to really think, and so you curiously answer with “no.” A smile grows on his face, and he leans in close, holding your arms. He whispers in your ear, “I guess that means you have to do what I tell you tonight.”
✧ - DAN HENG
“Of course. I do... I do love you, after all.”
His sentences are kept short and simple (with a little bit of blush), just like how they always are. Now, unlike most people on this list, he isn't bringing you outside to let the world know that you're dating, but he would feel and does absolutely feel proud to have you as his love. He reassures you that he would never feel embarrassed or feel the need to hide his love for you, no matter the crowd he's surrounded by.
✧ - BLADE
“Yes. Nobody's taking you, and nobody's taking me. Everyone had better know that you're mine, and the same goes for me.”
His response was rather threatening, but that's typical with Blade. His words are as sharp as his sword, but they're also as meaningful as sharp; his intent is nowhere near ill towards you, and he only means that he's dedicated himself to you already, and it's a dedication that he would never feel embarrassed or guilty for. Now, take his hand—he'll promise the world that you're his tonight.
✧ - XIAO
“Yes. Why wouldn't I be?”
In Adeptus Xiao language, he means, “yes, of course I would. Archons, holding your hand is a blessing itself.” And, though he doesn't admit it, he still feels it. You are his first and only love in several millennia. You, of every person to ever set foot in Liyue, managed to capture his heart when nobody else could. Xiao loves you, and he feels that he will forever, so he prays you'd banish him if he ever hurts you or hides his love away for something trivial because that means the karma got to him and that he's gone mad.
✧ - CHILDE
“Of course, babe! You know what? Let's go on a date right now— everything's on me!”
And that's simply Childe. Without a word, he disappears and reappears with your favorite outfit in hand, and has you put it on (in private as he waits outside the bedroom door), and when you're done, he's suddenly dressed nicely with roses in hand, and he takes you out on a date. How? No clue, but know that he's letting the whole region know that you're his right here and right now.
✧ - WANDERER
“Huh? That's a stupid question. Why are you asking me, anyway?”
Yes. He means yes in every way possible. His sharp tongue speaks the opposite, but Wanderer truly means that he would show you off to the world if he had to. If he has to, mainly because he finds the concept of love in its entirety as stupid, but he also loves you too much to let you leave him, let alone have someone else think that you're some vacant partner just waiting to be taken. Now, hold both of his hands. He'll glide you above Sumeru City and show everyone there that you're his if you're still thinking about the question.
✧ - ZHONGLI
“Well, of course. Would you like to take a walk around the harbor for me to prove that?”
Zhongli senses your insecurity, and he wishes to alleviate your worries, so he takes you to a popular teahouse by a bridge. It's not that grand or special, but he keeps you close to him as you both sip away at your tea and embrace the company of one another.
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yes, this was a heathers reference.
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harrysfolklore · 4 months
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Tom meeting reader at an event and he’s just flirting the whole night and ends up getting her number
i watched the golden globes and got inspired to write this! i hope you like it <3
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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If there was an award for "most nervous person in attendance" at the Golden Globes, you'd have won it by now.
Award shows never failed to make your stomach feel in knots the entire time, specially when you were nominated, like tonight.
The Great had been a huge breakout role, a period drama that had captivated audiences and critics. Now, you stood among the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy at the Golden Globes, and you could feel your heart pounding as the moment of your category being announced approached.
"Love, are you okay?" you heard a voice calling for you, turning your head you realized that it was Dua (yes, the Dua Lipa) who was sitting next to you.
"Just a bit nervous," you told her with a small smile, "I think I'll head backstage for a minute, I need a breather."
She assured you with another smile and you made your way backstage, a commercial break started just on cue.
You had rehearsed your acceptance speech a dozen times in case you won, and also had a pep talk ready in case you didn't, yet the nerves persisted. You knew you were competing against some big names, and whatever the result people online would have something to say.
Your train of thought was interrupted by your body colliding with someone, almost dropping your clutch in the process.
"Whoa there, careful," a voice chuckled, catching your arm.
"Sorry, I didn't see where I was going," you said, your cheeks flushing from embarrassment, of course you'd run into someone in classic romcom cliche style.
"No harm done. You alright?" he grinned and you recognized him, it was the man who had been flooding your Tiktok for you page for the past month, Tom Blyth, "I'm Tom, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, I'm YN," you smiled back, "And yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit nervous about my category. Oh you're presenting it, aren't you?"
"I'll have the privilege, yes," his charm effortlessly showed, "And just so you know, I'm rooting for you. You were phenomenal in The Great, one of my favorite shows I watched last year."
Your nerves seemed to ease a bit, his presence and charm making you relax. There was something about him that felt comforting, even though it was your first time meeting him.
"Thank you, that's really nice," you smiled at him, "But I don't want to get too confident, the other nominees are just as great."
"Honestly, I'd bet my hat you're taking that Golden Globe home tonight."
Tom squeezed your arm gently and you smiled again, and before another word could be exchanged, a crew member's voice echoed through the backstage area announcing that the show was back from commercial break in 30 seconds.
"Well, looks like it's showtime" Tom glanced towards the exit, then back at you. "Knock 'em dead out there, YN. You got this."
"We'll see."
With a final wink sent your way, you parted ways. You returned to your seat and tried to enjoy the ceremony as much as you could, your nerves still in the back of your head but your interaction with Tom making you feel more at ease now.
"And now, presenting the award for Female Actor in a Television Series – Musical or Comedy, please welcome The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes star, Tom Blyth!"
You heard the host say and you knew t was time, and once again a wave of nerves and uncertainty filled your body.
The crowd erupted in applause as Tom stepped onto the stage, his confidence and charm shinning through.
"Good evening, everyone. It's an honor to be here tonight among such incredible talents," Tom smiled, "Here are the nominees for Female Actor in a Television Series, Musical or Comedy."
A video played showing all the nominees but you felt like your mind was numb, you didn't even realize it had ended until Tom's voice was heard again.
"And the Golden Globe goes to," he paused for suspense, and you could see a small smirk making its way to his face as he read the name, "YN!"
Time seemed to freeze, you tried to process everything as you heard the applause from the crowd and those around you congratulating you and before you knew it, you were on stage taking the award from Tom's hands and giving him a quick hug.
"I told you." He quietly whispered in your ear and gave you a wink, a moment that the cameras had caught.
You gave your speech, thanking your cast mates, directors, family, friends and the rest of the nominees. Once you were done you headed backstage with a proud smile and your newest award in hand.
The night went on and you definitely enjoyed every minute of it, mingling with other actors and thanking everyone who approached to congratulate you.
Once the ceremony wrapped up, you headed to the after party, you were sipping on a fruity drink by the bar when you felt a presence behind you.
"Hey, can I steal a moment with the newest Golden Globe winner?"
You turned around noticing it was Tom, he had changed to a different suit and you couldn't help but think that he looked really handsome.
"Sure, what do you need, president Snow?" you laughed, feeling a newfound confidence around him.
"How about your number? I'd hate to lose touch with Hollywood's latest sensation." Tom flashed his charming smile again, taking you by surprise and making your entire body feel giddy.
"Smooth, Blyth. Very smooth." Blushing furiously, you playfully rolled your eyes.
"Well, when you really really want something, smooth comes naturally."
And just like that, after winning a major award for your career and feeling on top of the world, you found herself exchanging numbers with Tom Blyth, excited to see where that would take you.
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lina-lovebug · 3 months
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I'd Fight The Devil
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Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Background: (Y/N) Morningstar with her partner, Alastor, has decided to put some of the Overlords in their place.
Warning: Alastor being Alastor, mentions of pregnancy but no one's pregnant, and Alastor might have a breeding kink
_ _ _
"(Y/N)! What a surpri-!"
"I believe that's Princess (Y/N) Morningstar, Heir to the throne of Hell, and Duchess of Chaos - to you," Alastor loved doing this. He adored how (Y/N) had decided to start using her true power, and to bring respect back to her name.
The family name, to be exact.
Valentino chuckled nervously as (Y/N) scoped out the place, her horns ever presenting and tail flicking with annoyance.
"What a pleasure to be hosting you, Princess. What would be the reason for this visit?" Valentino asked, offering her a drink.
"I'm fine, thank you," She dismissed it, already smelling the poison inside the cocktail.
"I'm here to discuss Angel Dust, and your contract with him."
"If he's too much trouble for the hotel, I'll happily-"
"You're the one causing the trouble," Alastor cut him off.
Valentino sputtered, "me?!"
"You can feign innocence all you wish, Val, but I've heard that you've called my sister a bimbo, along with many other colorful names," (Y/N) slowly stood up, leaning over his desk as the lights started to go out - one by one.
"Charlie is nice. She's always been the kinder of us Morningstars, but apparently this makes you think that you can go and soil our name. My father could have strung every sinner on a hook for eternity, torturing you all second by second as your screams sung into our great halls," no one had been unfortunate enough to see the form of (Y/N) Morningstar, and Val was one of them.
Her height expanded to nine feet tall, her pretty black nails forming into claws and her eyes ablaze with scarlet serpent pupils.
And wings - oh great black wings that could make even Adam rethink his attack.
When he was still alive, of course.
"And you sully his gift by mocking us."
"Look, Vox did it first! Okay?! He said you'd never-!" Val tripped on a tentacle that came from her beloved Alastor, who dropped a TV by his feet.
But not just any TV.
"Oh God," Val gasped, "Vox. . .?"
"I took care of him earlier," Alastor grinned, still reminiscent on his screams.
"I couldn't have my dear (Y/N) sully her hands with his filth. But whatever the Princess wants, she gets."
Oh to see her come into her power was as chilling as death itself.
"You're so romantic, Alastor," (Y/N) smiled.
That's when Valentino spotted it. On the left hand of (Y/N) Morningstar was a ruby wedding ring, the band pure gold.
Alastor finally did it.
He climbed up the latter, but not through power.
Well yes, through power, but he certified that it would always be his.
By marrying Lucifers daughter.
"We're matching, isn't it adorable?" Alastor showed off his own wedding band, ruby's encrusted inside of it.
"Now, where were we?" She grinned, and as an engagement gift, the screams of Vox and Valentino were broadcasted throughout all of Hell.
And they say chivalry is dead.
_ ☆ _
"They're fucking crazy."
"They're made for each other."
On that, Angel Dust and Husker could agree.
The lovely couple had become the center of Hells attention after their engagement was announced, and even though Alastor thought it would be hilarious for Lucifer to find out through the papers, she told him first.
And he cried.
"Oh my baby is all grown up!" Lucifer sobbed loudly, clinging onto her legs, "look at you! You-you used to be this small!" Lucifer grabbed a duck, "and you were so tiny and so cute!"
"Am I invited?" Lucifer squeaked, staring up into her eyes.
"Yes, dad," She smiled, bringing him up to his feet, "but we want to wait a bit before we plan anything."
"You know she used to bite my finger?!" Lucifer grabbed the baby pictures of little (Y/N), "look at how small she was! Oh, and this one is my favorite!"
Alastor truly didn't mind how touchy Lucifer had become with him, but thankfully, Lucifer also knew when to stop.
"Wait, is that why you're getting married?! Did you impregnate my daughter?!" Lucifer gasped, shoving his hand on her stomach.
"Dad! Dad, no! I'm not pregnant!" She quickly cleared up.
"Unfortunately," Alastor muttered to himself. Oh to see her belly swell with his children - his own spawn, it made his cock twitch at the thought.
He was fond of children but his own? Oh he'd spoil his little prince or princess with all the blood sacrifices the world had to offer.
"Yeah but you know what marriage entails, kiddo!" He pointed at them both with finger guns, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby-oh my GOD I'll be a grandpa!"
He started crying again.
She sighed, "at least we know our hypothetical child will be taken care of."
Alastor nodded, "I could not have picked a better father-in-law."
At this point, Lucifer was ugly crying.
Alastor looked at his beloved with a soft gaze as she tried calming her father down. To be honest, Alastor never thought he would ever find solace in Hell. He anticipated every day being a fight for his life, always looking over his shoulder and always striving for more power. And as cheesy as it sounded, he saw (Y/N) as his shining light. She brought out his sad heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished his mother was with him.
To see just what a wonderful woman he managed to catch.
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Note
I was thinking and wondering about how 141 and könig would react if their s/o started breaking down whenever they dropped a plate or fucked up in some way like leaving something on the stove and their s/o completely breaks down. Apologizing and crying and saying “pls don’t be mad at me” stuff like that.
Or reader accidentally says “ok” I’m a kinda of snippy voice and they genuinely didn’t hear reader, and say “what?” And reader responds with “yes sir” or some shit like that as a trauma response? Srry if this is confusing lol
If this makes you uncomfortable pls ignore
Hey there! I can do this, no problem.
141 + König Reacting To Reader Having A Breakdown From Past Trauma
Warnings: mentions of past trauma, abuse, crying, feelings of unworthiness, swearing - ENDS IN FLUFF!!!
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Simon Ghost Riley-
Nothing was going your way today. You spilled coffee on yourself first thing this morning, stepped in a muddy puddle with your brand new shoes, and your boss was in a horrible mood, and you were his target.
You made it home later that night, and it took everything in you not to break down. Simon would be home soon, and you knew he'd be hungry, so you mustered what energy you could to head to the kitchen and start cooking.
~
"Hey babe, I'm home." You heard Simon's voice call from the front door.
"Hey, dinner is ready." You turned a bit too quickly to greet your husband, and the plate of food in your hands slid from your grasp, smashing to the floor.
You both stood there for a moment, staring at the mess on the floor, before you let out a choked sob.
Simon quickly threw his gear to the floor and carefully made his way around the broken shards to you. "Baby, what's wrong? It's okay. We can clean it."
"Please don't be mad at me, Simon." You sobbed into his chest. "I didn't mean to it, it slipped."
Simon's eyes widened as he looked down at you, grasping your cheeks in his hands softly. "Sweetheart, why would I be mad at you? It was an accident."
"Because I broke the plate! And you were probably hungry, and now dinner is ruined, and I'm a terrible spouse." Your brain was going a mile a minute as the word vomit continued to pour out. "I'm so sorry, Simon. I'll be better."
Simon pulled you back into his chest as he tore through the thoughts in his head. Why were you so upset? It was just a plate. You two could order takeout? What kind of person would be mad over....oh. A lightbulb went off in Simon's head as he looked down at you.
"Y/N, sweetheart, look at me."
You slowly peeled your head from his chest as you looked up at him, your eyes puffy and red from crying.
Simon rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks gently before he spoke. "I'm not him. And you are a wonderful spouse. I couldn't have asked for anyone better to be by my side every day. I don't give a damn if you dropped a plate. We are all human, kid."
You let out another sob, your bottom lip quivering as you took in his words. It was known, Simon was a man of few words, but he always, always knew what to say to help you in the moment.
"I love you, Y/N, always. I'm always going to be here for you, and I promise you, I'm never going to get mad about trivial shit like this. You're okay."
Simon stayed holding you for some time, rubbing soothing circles in your back as you started to calm down. "Why don't we order some takeout, yeah? My treat."
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
You and Johnny had just finished up dinner, and he was currently finishing up the dishes as you got the show you two were binging ready on the TV.
"Do you want any popcorn or anything babe?" He asked as he placed the last dish in the cupboard.
"Nah, only you and a buttload of cuddles." You said, turning to him with a warm smile.
Johnny leaned back, admiring you, as his hands rested on the stove behind him.
"FUCK!" He cried out, as there was a searing pain emitting from his hand. "Is the stove still on?"
You jumped up from your spot on the couch, alarmed at Johnny's cry of pain, and you went white as you realized you'd forgotten to turn the stove off after cooking dinner.
"Oh my God, Johnny. I'm so sorry." You mumbled, your heart beginning to race as you made your way over to your boyfriend slowly.
"Shite, that fucking hurts." Johnny waived his hand in the air, trying to shake away some of the pain, not realizing his quick movements had you hunched down in the corner, your arms over your head defensively.
"Y/N?" He asked, the pain in his hand long forgotten. "Baby, did you..did you think I was going to hit you?"
"I...I... I'm sorry, Johnny. I didn't mean to, I forgot I thought I turned it off." You cried out, tears now falling down your cheeks, your hands shaking violently.
"Did that..did that fucker hurt you?" Johnny began to put the pieces together in his brain. Before him, you were in a relationship with a man who liked to hurt you whenever you made a mistake.
You gave a small nod, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to prevent a small sob from escaping. Johnny slowly moved to sit on the floor next to to, and grabbed your hands gently.
"Y/N, I will never, and I mean never lay a finger on you like that. Any man who does has no right to be called a man. I am so sorry you went through that." Johnny rubbed soothing circles into your wrists as his eyes stared lovingly into yours. "Don't worry about the stove being left on. It happens. I do shit like that all the time. Plus, I've gotten way worse burns than this, this is child's play."
You let out a soft chuckle as you exhaled deeply. "I love you, Johnny. Thank you. Let me at least grab the burn cream for you."
"I love you too, babe." He have you a warm smile as you walked over to the medicine cabinet and watched as you fumbled with the contents.
Johnny made a silent promise to himself that day, that if he ever saw your ex, he'd teach him a lesson of his own.
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John Price-
"Hey, have you seen my white dress shirt? It's not in my closet." John asked, as he rummaged through your shared room. He had a gala tonight he was supposed to attend, and he couldn't find his favorite white shirt.
"Oh! I washed it, I knew you wanted to wear it, let me go grab it from the dryer." You called back, making your way to your laundry room.
You rummaged through the dryer, trying to find his shirt, and your heart dropped when you saw it. You pulled it out, revealing a giant ink stain on the front, and looked over to find a pen that had gone through the dryer along with it.
Your hand flew to your mouth as you let out a muffled sob. "No, no, no."
"Were you able to find it? I appriciate you washing-" John's voice was cut short as he took in the scene in front of him. "Is that my shirt?"
"John...I... I didn't know that it was..there was a pen." You started rambling, your voice trembling with each word.
John took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he took in your state. "It's alright, love."
"No! No you're mad, I fucked up and now you're mad. I'm so sorry. I didn't know there was a pen, and..and.. please don't hate me." You sobbed, falling to your knees, your hands flying to your face.
John felt his heart shatter as he watched you crumble to the floor. He was very aware of the past you had with your family, a family that allowed for very few mistakes, and one that would punish you for any said mistakes.
"Y/N. Baby. It's okay." John crouched down beside you, pulling you into his lap. "I've got you, it's alright."
You choked out a sob as you threw your face into his chest, staining his shirt with your tears. "No, no, it's not. This was your favorite shirt and I fucked it up."
"Love, I was the one who left that pen in my pants. It's my fault, not yours. I promise you, honey, I'm not mad." He rubbed at your arms soothingly as he pressed kisses to your forehead.
You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you continued to clutch onto your husband's arms. "I should've looked, still. I'll buy you a new one."
"Aye, screw the shirt. I'm kind of glad it's ruined. I didn't want to go to that silly dress up party anyway. I'd much rather stay here with you."
"Really?" You asked, wiping away your tears.
"Really. I don't need some to be at some party with stuffy stuck-up pricks when I can be here with my pretty little partner. I'm gonna go order us some takeout. What do you say we get our pjs on and watch a movie, yeah?"
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
"Hey, babe. Can you keep me alive in this game for like 5 minutes? I have to go run to the bathroom, I can't pause it." Kyle called out.
"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm not very good at those kinds of games but I can try." You gave him a sheepish smile as you walked over to him.
"It should be super easy. Just walk anywhere, but where the guys with red bars over their heads are. Those are the enemies." Kyle said, before placing a kiss on your head. "I'll be super quick, I promise."
You swallowed thickly as Kyle walked away, your hands shaking slightly as you held onto the controller.
You managed to do pretty well at first, avoiding all of the enemies that were wandering around you. Luck, however, was not on your side for long.
An enemy came out of nowhere as you were pacing back and forth in one of the corners of the map and managed to kill you with one hit.
"Thanks for watching it, babe. I hate how I can't save my progress in -" Kyle stopped mid sentence as he saw the "YOU DIED" message flicker across the TV screen.
"Kyle, I'm so sorry. He...he came out of nowhere, and I.. it was one hit, and there wasn't anything I could do." You started to hyperventilate, your breathing increasing rapidly as tears brimmed in the corner of your eyes. "I was doing well, and I didn't see him I.. I'm so sorry."
"Hey, hey, it's okay!" Kyle was quick to come over to you, taking the controller from your hands. "I'm not mad, baby."
"But you losy your progress and I fucked up, and now you hate me." Your thoughts were racing through your head faster than you could process, and you threw your face into your hands as you let out a sob.
"Y/N. Baby. I promise you, I couldn't ever hate you. It's a stupid video game. It's okay. You're safe. You're with me, not him." Kyle gently pulled you into his lap as he began to press kisses to your hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. Besides, it gives me a chance to go back and loot better shit anyway."
You looked up to him through your bleary eyes, and gave a wobbly smile. "I don't deserve you, Kyle Garrick."
"Bugger off with that, love. If anyone doesn't deserve anyone, it's me who doesn't deserve you."
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König-
You and König were cleaning up in the weapons/gear locker at the end of a brutal mission. The two of you moved in slow motion around the room, removing your gear and laying down your weapons to be cleaned.
"Maus, can you help me get this vest off? I can't seem to get the buckle." Königs voice shook you from your thoughts, and you turned to help your lover.
The strap of the vest seemed to be stuck, so you gave it a little tug. You evidently had put too much pressure, and it caused you to tear a hole in the fabric, leaving the strap useless.
Your mouth flew open, and you quickly ran over to grab one of the sewing kits on the table. You returned to him, and immediately started to thread at the fabric.
"Hey, hey, it's fine. It's just a tear. We can look at it later." König said, trying to grab at your frenzied hands.
"NO! No, I have to fix it!" You shoved him away as you continued to stitch at the torn fabric of his vest. "I have to fix it."
König watched helplessly as tears began to stream down your face, unable to do anything to console you.
He knew of your past boyfriend and how weak he made you feel. Any mistake you made would end with you being on the end of either physical, or mental abuse, and it made Königs blood boil thinking that anyone could harm someone like you.
"Maus." His voice was firm, catching your attention immediately. "Stop, please."
Your bottom lip wobbled, a whimper barely escaping your lips as you looked up at him. "But I ruined it."
"I don't care about the vest, schatz, it's military issued I can get another." He said gently, as he pulled your hands away from the vest. "I just need you to be okay."
"I'm..okay. Please don't me mad at me." You cried softly, looking back to the vest.
"I couldn't ever be mad at you for something like this. I'm not, and will not ever be like him, okay? You're alright, I promise you." His hands dropped yours and landed on the back of your neck, as he turned your head back to him.
"Tell me you're okay." He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"I'm okay." You repeated, your eyes fluttering shut.
"Tell me you're safe." Another kiss was pressed to your cheek.
"I'm safe."
"Tell me you're loved." A kiss was placed to your forehead.
"I am loved." You repeated once more as a final kiss was placed to your lips. König had started this "mantra" of sorts one of the very first panic attacks you had with him, and it had become a comfort for you ever since. He was always the best at calming you down.
"You are so beautiful, Maus. I love you so much. Let's get the rest of this gear off and go to sleep, alright? I've got you."
And he did, he always had you. He'd never, in his life, ever let you feel like you were anything less than wonderful.
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A/N: thanks for reading!
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angelltheninth · 3 months
Text
Gargoyle Boyfriend Gets Rough As the Sun Comes Up
Pairing: Male!Gargoyle x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, size difference, desperation, kissing, mating press, wings, claws
A/N: I mentioned Gargoyles once in a conversation and now... now we're here. It doesn't take much with me.
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"There's not a lot of time, my love." He grunted above you, claws tearing into your bed, hard cock hammering at your insides and a thick flow of cum dripping down your ass. "I need you to come for me." The bed shook with the force of his thrusts, and so did you, his tail being the only thing keeping you still.
If your legs weren't pushed up over his shoulders you could have wrapped them around his hips like you normally did. But he wasn't letting you bring them down. At this angle he could get his cock all the way in your wet pussy. He's looking at your face, twisted in pleasure, almost drowning in it. Well you weren't far off.
"You already came. Ah-! Shouldn't you... get going. The Sun is almost up." He snarled, eyes flashing at your words. His fat tip rammed itself deep against your cervix, making your eyes roll back into your skull, nails scratching into his hard skin.
"And leave you unsatisfied? You think I would treat my mate this way?" It was insulting to him. "I would never." Wings fanned out behind him, the sharp edges leaving marks on your celling, the scratching noises mixing with growls, moans and soft flesh meeting hard stone. "No. You will come for me. You will show me that face again, you will- fucking come!" His growly voice shook you to your core, "Yes. That's my good mate. Can you feel my cock splitting you open? Can you feel me deep in your human cunt?"
You wrapped your arms around his thick neck, feeling his sharp fangs dig into your bottom lip before you kissed properly. Pleasure rocked through you, his hips slowing down, not wanting to pull out yet, wanting to spare every second he could with his cock in you, your pussy walls warm and twitching around his girth.
"I wish you could stay all day." You felt him pulling away when the tension in your body ebbed away.
"Hard stone wouldn't feel as good." That almost sounded like a challenge and you grinned up at him. "I don't know what you're thinking but I advise against it."
Wiggling your hips you heard him take a sharp breath, cock stirring, "You don't even know what I wanted to do. You need to let me have fun too." You could just imagine his face if he woke up and saw you already on his cock, how quickly he would slam you against the cold tiles and take you right then and there.
"Stop this. At this rate I'll go hard in more ways then one." That would surely a noticeable change. "You'll have to wait until tonight." His hand cupped the entire side of your face, his skin cold on yours but still comforting. His touch lingered as he pulled away, as did the now empty feeling in your pussy.
You watched as he stretched his wings and his arms, pulling his on the little clothes he wore to cover his cock. The bulge was noticeable from this angle but once he was in his siting position it wouldn't be. Unless... you ran two fingers over your pussy, gathering the thick, white, creamy seed and bringing it to your lips.
"Fuck." His teeth clenched tight, cock bulge twitching, growing in size. "I... I need to take my post!" He was nearly always the one teasing you. These were small victories. But hey, as a human woman dating a big, strong gargoyle of the night, you needed these small victories.
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woso-dreamzzz · 8 days
Text
Celebrate
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Magda overdoes it
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There are lots of things you like about parties.
The music. The endless food. The amount of fizzy drinks you can have.
Most of all, you like that you get to stay up past bedtime.
You sit in a little booth was a cup of sprite and a straw and blow more bubbles in your drink.
A lot of the Not-Wolfsburg girls are celebrating at the bar or on the dancefloor, where Guro is really having fun and people are giving Niamh a wide berth. Coach Emma is also dancing and you think she might be drunk.
You think Morsa is drunk too because she's halfway between giggly and weepy and she's stumbling around with some of the others.
Momma sits next to you, nursing her own drink as she opens another packet of goldfish crackers for you to munch on. You're feeling a little sleepy, forcing down your yawn because you know if Momma notices then she'll make you go home and you really don't want to go home right now.
Especially when Niamh is trying to dance but making it very clear that she can't do it properly.
You clamp down on your yawn and go to take another long drink of your sprite.
"Er...Pernille..." Millie says as she approaches. She looks a little awkward, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. "Magda's..." She spares a look behind her. "Yeah, Magda..."
Momma sighs deeply. "She's pretty far gone, huh?"
"Yeah...She just got into the bathroom."
Momma stands up. "I'll look after her." She turns to you. "Stay here, okay? With Millie. She'll watch you."
You shrug. "Okay."
Millie slides into the booth next to you. "So," She says," What are you drinking?"
"Vodka."
"What?!"
You giggle, swinging your legs. "Don't be silly, Millie. I've got Sprite!"
She still looks a little sceptical and leans forward to sniff at your drink, pulling back when she's satisfied that it isn't actually alcohol.
You take a sip.
"Is Morsa being sick?" You ask.
"Er...no..."
You fix her with a look. "Don't lie," You say," Because Momma says when people drink too much, they throw up. Is that what Morsa's doing?"
"Yes."
You nod, finishing off your drink. "Can I get another sprite?"
Millie looks down at your empty glass and then back at the bar. "Stay here," She says," Don't wander off."
"Okay, Millie."
As soon as she's up by the bar, you slip out of the booth. You weave your way through the team, stumbling a little bit when someone bumps into you but you stay on your course to the toilets.
Morsa is hunched over one of them, throwing up her earlier meal as Momma rubs her back.
Morsa is crying as well, babbling about how much she loves Momma and the team and playing with her. She looks back to give Momma heart eyes but notices you by the doorway.
"I love you too, princesse," She cries," You're so small and I love you so much. You used to fit in my arms, do you remember? Come here, I can still hold you like that. I'll show you."
"Magda," Momma says in warning," Absolutely not. You're-"
Momma's interrupted by Morsa throwing up again and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.
"Go back out, please," Momma says to you," I'm looking after Morsa."
"I'm tired," You whine, stomping your foot," Can we go home?"
Momma looks at Morsa and nods. "Go back out to Millie please," She says," And tell her that we're going to go home."
"Okay!"
You're not actually tired but you do want to go home because you think if you stay here then Morsa will keep drinking and keep throwing up.
You find Millie easily, slipping into the booth again as she comes back with your sprite.
"Momma says we're leaving now," You tell her," Because Morsa is nearly done throwing up her dinner."
Millie winces. "Yeah, Magda might have overdone it today. Let me grab you a bowl for her."
Morsa hobbles out into the car, hunched over as you dutifully carry the bowl from Millie in your hands.
"In the front, Magda," Momma orders but Morsa refuses.
"Sit with our baby! She's gotten so big! Let me sit with our baby!"
"No, Magda," Momma says," In the front and if you don't throw up on the way home then you can give Princesse cuddles when we get home."
"Fine."
Morsa finally gets in the passenger seat.
(She doesn't get her cuddle at all because as soon as Momma turns on the car, she throws up everywhere).
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drabblesandimagines · 22 days
Text
Swipe Right
Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x
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“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”
The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”
“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”
“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.
Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.
“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”
He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”
“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”
Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?
Oh.
“Wait, did you hear…?”
“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”
“Yes.”
Claire quirks an eyebrow.
“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.
“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”
Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.
“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”
“And Chris manages that?”
“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.
“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”
Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.
“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”
Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”
He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”
Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.
Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?
“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”
“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.
“Have you got any selfies on here?”
“Don’t think so. Why?”
“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”
He shakes his head.
“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”
“What should I be picking pictures of?”
“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”
“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.
“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”
“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.
“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”
He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?
“Fine. 30 days.”
“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”
--
Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.
It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.
He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.
Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?
Oh.
He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.
He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.
--
“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.
“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.
“Any good dates recently?”
He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”
“You’ve not gone on one?”
“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”
“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.
She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”
“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”
“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”
He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.
“Aw, you’re smiling.”
“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.
“No match.”
“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”
“Hey-”
“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”
--
You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.
You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.
You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.
You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.
--
Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.
It’s neither – a notification from the app.
Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?
He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.
Hi – ask away.
A bubble appears with three dots within.
How do you get your hair that shiny?
Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.
I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.
Please? Mine is so dull.
He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.
Looks pretty good from what I can see.
The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?
Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.
Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.
My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.
Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.
Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.
I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.
Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.
Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?
Nah, you’re gouda.
Leon grins.
--
The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.
Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…
Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.
Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.
It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?
Uh-uh. Too scared.
What of?
Falling off, mainly.
No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.
You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.
And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?
First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.
There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.
Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.
You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?
If it is?
If it is, then I’m free Friday...
Perfect.
--
Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.
Morning. Question?
Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?
Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?
I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.
It’ll be dark out, though.
Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?
No comment.
Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…
He sends it through.
Included the time and date and all. Happy?
No comment.
Well, how will I recognize you?
Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x
Until then x
--
The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.
Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.
He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.
God, you’re adorable.
“Hi, Leon.” 
“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.
“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”
“Great. You?”
Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?
“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.
“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.
You nod. “Let’s.”
The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.
It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.
You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.
He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.
“So, fancy a ride?”
You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.
“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”
You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”
“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”
“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.
“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”
“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”
You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.
“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”
“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.
“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”
“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”
“Is tomorrow too soon?”
“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”
“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”
You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”
“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”
You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.
“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”
You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”
He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.
“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event
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thatfandomslut · 3 months
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Puppy Love
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Regina George x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Trigger Warnings: there is so much fluff in here that it's crazy, also a puppy is in here so prepare your hearts for a lot of love
Request:
Can I request a Regina George x Fem!reader for Renee rapp? Please anything I'm like in a dry desert with no water, please feed the homosexuals. Thanks so much!
Mean Girls requests are open.
Regina narrowed her eyes at the puppy that was taking (Y/n)'s attention. It was a golden retriever puppy that (Y/n) named Apollo. He was cute, and Regina could admit that. However, it sucked (Y/n)'s attention away entirely from her and to this dog. Regina knew this jealousy was petty and dumb, but Apollo was becoming a problem for Regina. For example, just moments before now, she and (Y/n) had been making out, but when Apollo came crying to the door, scratching on it, (Y/n) was up in seconds. Now, instead of (Y/n) holding her close, she was cradling a puppy who would never truly appreciate her.
"Wait," Cady said, formulating everything Regina was telling the group. (Y/n) hadn't joined them yet because she was too busy showing one of their classmates pictures she had taken of Apollo. "So, let me get this straight. You are jealous of Apollo? Her incredibly adorable golden retriever puppy? I'm not sure I understand why."
Regina's eyes narrowed at Cady when she said this, causing Cady's eyes to look anywhere but towards Regina. Even if the clique system had officially been brought down by the exposure of the Burn Book, Regina was scary. "You don't understand, Cady. I have lost a lot of make-out time because he will come pawing at the door. When we study at her place, it turns into a session where I study and she plays with Apollo. He's not even that cute." Regina stuck up her nose, knowing what she was saying was out of anger. She knew that Apollo was incredibly cute, and at first, so were all of (Y/n)'s interactions with him.
(Y/n) approached the group with a wide smile on her face, kissing Regina's cheek as she sat down. "Hey, everyone," she greeted, not catching on to how everyone but Regina avoided her eye. A tell-tell sign that they were talking about her, but (Y/n) was absolutely oblivious. "Does anyone want to see this video I got of Apollo at his puppy training class yesterday? The teacher said he was her best student. She said he was 'paw-some.'" (Y/n) said with a bright smile, not noticing Regina roll her eyes. Cady was the first to look over, excited to see Apollo, Karen followed, and then the rest of the group was awe-ing over how cute Apollo was. Regina was seething.
"Are you still coming over, princess?" (Y/n) looked over at Regina with a smile, but it quickly dropped when she saw Regina's expression. She looked sour as she stared at her now cold cheese fries in front of her. (Y/n) was trying to figure out if she had that same expression when she sat down earlier, or if she had just missed it. She was hoping that whatever it was, Regina wasn't mad at her. "Hey, Regina, what's wrong, babe? You look upset about something. Is there anything I can help with?"
Regina resisted the urge to say anything that she might regret late. Instead, she kissed (Y/n) with a soft smile. "No, love, just thinking. I'll definitely get over it though. Yes, I will see you later today." Regina promised, and the group looked around at each other quietly. The bell rang, and the group split up. Regina had dropped (Y/n) off at her class, and then she went with Gretchen to their shared math class. "I should've said, the problem is she loves her dog more than me," Regina grumbled to Gretchen, who decided it was best to say nothing. She didn't want to contribute to Regina's anger.
After school, (Y/n) was playing with Regina's hair when she heard the familiar pawing at her door. "There's Apollo, I'm going to let him in." (Y/n) kissed her girlfriend before letting the puppy in. "I'm going to use the bathroom fast, too. Do you think you can watch him?" (Y/n) questioned as she brought the dog over to Regina. The puppy squirmed excitedly as he was placed in front of Regina, running up to her and licking her on the face. (Y/n) patted his head before taking her momentary leave.
"Stop it, stop it," Regina held Apollo away from her as she examined him with a sneer. Letting out a little bark, he attempted to lick Regina again, even if he was at a far distance. Regina didn't realize at first that she smiled at that, but when she did; she looked around quickly to make sure nobody witnessed it. She let go of Apollo and the puppy came bounding over to her, curling up to her side as he allowed her to scratch behind his ear. "Okay, I think I'm starting to get it now… You are kind of cute, I guess."
(Y/n) grinned when she came back to the room, happy to see Regina finally warming up to her puppy. She knew she was struggling to share the attention when she came over, but puppies need a lot of attention, too. "Look at these two cuties," she took a picture before lying beside Regina, Apollo resting in the middle. "I'm glad you seem to like him. I thought you couldn't stand him. I was beginning to get worried you might be jealous of him or something." (Y/n) said, addressing how she would never want to make Regina feel that way,
Regina shook her head, hiding the lie between her teeth. "What, no? I was never jealous of Apollo, He's a cute puppy." Regina said simply, hoping she didn't give herself away too easily.
Her comment made (Y/n)'s brow raise, but she said nothing, not wanting to accuse Regina of not telling the truth. Instead, she planted a kiss on Regina's lips. "And you are my cute girlfriend. I love that you love Apollo." (Y/n) said happily, snuggling Regina and Apollo. She couldn't wait to make that picture of Regina snuggled up to Apollo her screensaver later.
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 month
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Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven
Dbf!Jake Seresin x fem!reader 12k words (.....yes. 12k. i-)
summary: Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he's actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father's new best friend, Jake Seresin.
a/n: porn with plot. a lot of plot. and a lot of porn. 18+ obviously. reader is twenty-five in this, jake is forty-seven. this is entirely based on my new fixation on dbf!jake. i have so many thots. so many that they led to a 12k oneshot lmfao. anyway, as always, a list of things to watch out for:
pet names used in an unholy way, safe sex (i fucking managed to finally give them a condom whooooohoooo), oral sex for the both of them (yes i also wrote a blowjob. this is unbelievable i know), dom!jake, some praise kink, a smidge of strength kink at the end. a lot of begging. as always. mention of shower sex. mostly vanilla. jake fucks in missionary because he wants to be nice for his first time with her. if there's ever a sequel i swear to god he will be the most unholy fucker ever
top gun masterlist
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The first time Jake meets you isn't the first time he's supposed to meet you. He's supposed to come by for dinner that evening, to finally get to know the daughter your parents have told him so much about. And it's not his fault that he meets you seven hours earlier that day. Not really.
Because the pictures your parents had kept showing him were all old. Mostly childhood photographs, some from your graduation, but none recent enough to connect the dots.
So it's really not his fault that he doesn't recognise you when he sees you standing there on the side of the road, phone clamped between your ear and shoulder, the hood of your car all the way up. With how wildly you're gesturing, Jake guesses that you're not particularly close to fixing whatever problem you have.
You're wary when he pulls up behind you and opens his door. It's rarely a good sign when random men prey on very obviously helpless and distressed young women. But Jake doesn't even get closer at first, just stands there in the opened car door and asks if you need any help. For a little moment, you debate whether it's worth the risk. Then your father's voice rings out from your phone and you decide that there's not much this guy could do to you in broad daylight on a well used street with your father on the phone.
So you tell him the truth. Yes, you most definitely have a problem. The way he makes sure it's okay for him to come over and take a look calms you even more. He's considerate and careful and maybe you're actually lucky and he's just a guy who genuinely wants to help.
He steps out from the door and walks up to you and honestly, for a moment there you're startled. He has to be in his forties, but damn, he's attractive. Suddenly you're glad you picked your sundress over your sweatpants this morning.
You let him lean over your car and take a closer look.
"If he can't help, I'll just come pick you up and we'll call a tow truck", your father says after you've filled him in on what's happening. Honestly, you'd really rather not have to call a tow truck though, because that's just going to cost you a bunch of money again, which isn't particularly the way you want to spend it.
Also, this guy leaning over your car - and you're not even denying that you're very much eyeing him up - seems like he actually knows what he's doing there.
He takes a minute or two before he comes up again. He's smiling, which you take as a good sign. He opens his mouth and you hear what he's saying - but because you have no clue what it is that he's trying to tell you, you just nod along. You're not a mechanic, you don't know the goddamn terminology. Something something battery, something something fuel pump, whatever. You take the time to notice his accent instead.
The good news is he thinks he can fix whatever he's found, but you'll still have to get it checked out later on.
He walks back to his own car, rummages around and comes back with a toolbox and an unopened water bottle.
"It might take a while", he tells you as he offers you the bottle. "Feel free to turn on my radio."
You take the waterbottle and bite down on your lip to keep from grinning. He's sweet. Goddamn. Because you've deemed the whole thing safe, you tell your father goodbye and hang up - you honestly just want a bit of privacy to stare at this hunk of a man who's bending over the hood of your car again and offering you a very... good look at his backside.
It's summer. He's wearing a wife pleaser, which is reasonable in these temperatures, but the sight of his forearms working almost makes you feel like he knows what he's doing by wearing it. Does he have a wife to please, though? He's old enough to have kids - your age, maybe a few years younger. He's about as old as your dad. If he has a wife, maybe he's wearing it for her. Maybe she likes the way his biceps flexes just like you do.
You squint at his hands as you uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There's no ring as far as you can see. Would it be entirely unreasonable to assume he's... single?
It's been a minute, maybe, when you decide it's probably awkward for you to stand there and watch him, so you go with his suggestion and lean into his car, palms bracing against the seat to reach for the radio.
You turn it on, switch through a few channels until you find one you like and turn the volume up. Because it's probably just as awkward if you stay in his car - if not bordering on creepy - you step around the opened door and settle yourself against the hood. Your thighs stick to the warmed metal, but that's something you're willing to deal with.
Your eyes cling to him as he works. You don't know what the hell he's doing, you just hope he knows and you're not left with an even worse problem after. But he doesn't seem like that type of guy. And since he's seemingly unmarried... You don't stop yourself from staring.
Fuck, maybe he has a girlfriend, not everyone gets married at thirty. Not everyone wears their wedding ring either. But a girl can dream, right? And you're dreaming, for just a few minutes. You allow yourself to dream.
He looks so good. He looks so fucking good.
Sandy-blond hair, cut short, but not too short, broad, broad, broad shoulders... those arms, that back.
When he straightenes and looks at you, greasy fingers and a triumphant grin on his lips, you also have to admit that he's got chiseled fucking features. You swallow hard and do your best to pretend you haven't been ogling him.
"All done", he says. You raise your eyebrows.
"Really? That quickly?"
He grins and takes a step back, offering you to take a look yourself. You bite back a smile and push off the hood of his car - your hips are swaying as you walk, yeah, but as far as you're aware, he's single and just fixed your car for you, for free, in less than fifteen minutes.
Also, he's hot.
"Looks no different to me", you admit. He lets out a chuckle.
"Try it", he says, reaches for the hood and pulls it down as you slip into the driver's seat. You look up to him through the windshield before you turn the key in the ignition and-
The car starts.
The fucking car starts.
He's actually managed it.
You turn the key back and shake your head in disbelief. If he hadn't accidentally stumbled upon you, you'd probably have had to call the tow truck by now. Instead, you reach for the glove compartment and grab your purse.
"How-", you start as you climb out of the car seat again, shutting the door behind you. "How the hell?"
He chuckles.
"Actually, don't tell me", you interrupt yourself, throwing your hands up. "I don't even want to know. Here."
You reach into your purse and pull out disinfection wipes, offering them to him. He takes one with a smile and a drawled thanks and cleans off the grease on his hands before folding it up and letting it disappear into his pocket.
"So you're my knight in shining armour today", you say, biting down on your lip. Fuck it. You're gonna find out here and now whether or not he's single. "Otherwise I'm sure the tow truck would've cost me a hundred bucks - at least."
"Yeah, probably", he agrees, his eyes dropping to your mouth for just a second.
"Well, then", you smile, as coyly as you can manage. "How can I thank you?"
And just as you hoped, he stills, taking you in - maybe for the first time, you're not sure. His eyes rake down your body, your cleavage, your waist, your legs. His lips tug into a grin, but when he looks back up at you, he's serious.
"No worries", he tells you. "I'm not the tow truck."
He's not pushing you. Actually, he's doing the opposite, and you're not a fan. Maybe he isn't single after all. Maybe he does have a girlfriend. Or a wife. Or maybe he's not interested. Maybe... but you can give it a try, right? Just one try.
"I can't just drive off", you argue, blinking up at him a little more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Fuck, are you really doing this? Your breath catches for a moment. But then again, if he isn't single, you're just gonna get into your car and never see him again. So who cares? "How about I give you my number?"
Your heartbeat quickens as he looks at you and straightens up. He's still grinning. You can't quite figure him out.
"I'm forty-seven, darling", he chuckles. You try your hardest to ignore how that pet name sounds, all sweet and intimate and god, you'd do a lot to have him say it again.
"So?", you ask and raise an eyebrow. "Does that mean you don't have a phone?"
Jake shakes his head with a chuckle, but you keep looking up at him so seductively, keep smiling so flirtatiously that he can't help himself. You're wearing such a pretty dress, such a dainty necklace around your throat. And you're serious about this.
He's had younger women flirt with him, yes, but usually five, ten years younger at most - and even that's been a while, because he isn't going to bars every night anymore.
You're really young. You're too young. You're, what, twenty-six? You can't be much older.
But you're stunning. Gorgeous eyes, kissable lips, glossy and plush and for just a moment, Jake loses himself in the images his mind seems to produce immediately when he looks at you - has been, from the second he'd spotted you through his windshield.
He's old enough to know better. But he still reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone.
...
The first time Jake officially meets you is seven hours later when he knocks on your parents' door and takes a step back to wait for it to open.
"That's gotta be Jake, someone get the door!", your mother's voice calls out, and it takes a few seconds until he hears soft footsteps coming down the hallway.
Then the door cracks open.
And there stands-
You.
You're smiling widely for the entirety of two seconds. Then your face falls.
Jake feels like the rug is pulled out from under his feet. He tumbles deep down a dark, dark hole as he stares at your pretty eyes, all shocked and wide, mouth open.
"You", you let out, almost breathless.
"You", Jake echoes, in quite the same tone.
Within seconds, you're stepping out onto the porch, closing the door behind you and holding out your hand in front of you, as if to keep him a safe distance away.
You're quick, almost stumbling over your own words as you come to conclusions and try to grasp all their consequences. Jake has a hard time even listening to you. He's frozen in his spot, barely comprehending the entire situation.
The young woman that had so unashamedly flirted with him this morning - that he had most definitely flirted back with - is his neighbour's daughter. His friend's daughter.
So he's fucking frozen in spot, yes.
He's frozen even as you're ushering him into the house with a smile on your lips that's just a bit too wide. He's frozen as he sits down at the dinner table and frozen as your mother offers him a beer. He's frozen as he settles on the couch after and as your father turns on a football game. He's frozen as you scoff at the tv and disappear up the stairs.
Your father asks him what's wrong, but there's no way Jake can tell him.
Even without your lecture on the porch, there would've been no way he would have admitted that he's got your number saved in his phone, "Twenty-five" with a winky face emoji behind it.
So he says he hasn't been all that well - maybe getting the flu or something.
Which is bullshit. He doesn't get sick. He's been sick two, maybe three times in all his life.
But he does think he'll be sick when you take your last step down the stairs half an hour later, in pajamas that barely cover anything - satin or something, he's too focused not focusing on your bare skin to notice anything except your bare skin, really. You just traipse over to the kitchen on tiptoes, eyes glued to your phone, hushed voices reaching his ears when you talk to your mother before you reappear in the living room.
"I'm going to bed", you announce, phone clutched tightly in your hands. "It's been a long day."
Jake can't hear your father's answer. He can't hear the commentator or the cheers from the tv. He can't hear anything, not when you're standing there in the doorway, when he's concentrating so fucking hard on not looking at you.
He fails miserably.
His eyes rake down your body so scorchingly hot that they burn holes into your skin. You have to swallow hard at his expression.
You're not tired at all, actually. Yes, it's been a long day, but if anything, you're buzzing with adrenaline. Which is worse. Because the entire dinner long, you've just had to sit there and stare at him and not do anything about it.
So you're aching to finally hide away in your room, to crawl into bed and contemplate what the fuck is happening. And, just maybe, to dip your fingers into your pajama shorts and think about his shoulders, his arms, his jawline...
Jake manages to grunt some kind of 'goodnight' before you flee - but he doesn't manage to drag his eyes back up from your stomach, all exposed and on display for him. And he doesn't manage to hide it from you.
...
He sees you often over the following weeks. He's been over at your parents' house almost every day for the past six months anyway, and that doesn't change just because you've come back home. Your father still invites him for football games, your mother still talks him into coming over for lunch or for dinner or both and whenever they're outside tinkering on something, he's being called to help.
And - because of course, it's your house as well - you're there, too.
All around him, all the time.
At first, it's innocent. You walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water and smile and say hello. You sit on the couch on a call with a friend and wave at him through the window. You come back from a walk with the dog and ask how he's doing before you disappear inside.
But then there come moments... Moments in which you lie down on a sun lounger in a skimpy bikini while he's painting the fence with your father, sunglasses high on your nose, a book in your hands, rubbing sunscreen into your skin and biting your lip when he can't help but look at you. Moments in which you brush up against him in the kitchen with a giggled 'Sorry', your mother's back turned to you as she grabs milk from the fridge, his fists clenching at his sides, his coffee cup held decently in front of his crotch. Moments in which you sit next to him on the couch and have to lean over him with a lengthy apology, your father just disappearing into the bathroom, your palm high enough on his thigh to stagger into the inappropriate.
The only time he's safe is at work. And even then, you're on his mind constantly.
Those pretty dresses you wear all the time, low-cut in the front and so short they hardly reach past your mid-thighs, in all colours of the rainbow. Those skimpy tops with the flowers on them and jeans-shorts or skirts he's more than once noticed are actually skorts.
He shouldn't be attracted to you. It's so wrong on so many levels. You're too young, much too young, twenty-two years younger than him. And - worse - he's best friends with your father.
He can't be attracted to his best friend's daughter. He simply can't.
It's wrong. It's so, so wrong.
But he can't help himself. He can't help himself when you brush up against him, when you touch him, when you look like that right in front of him.
He doesn't know how he survives those first weeks. He doesn't feel like he's alive, really. Every waking thought is of you - of you and of how wrong it is that he can't stop thinking about you. That he keeps imagining what it would be like to hold you, to kiss you, to-
No.
No, he can't.
Even though you're making it practically impossible for him.
And it's not like you really know what you're doing either. But ever since the car incident that very first day back home, you've been picturing those arms, those shoulders - and after the first time you caught sight of him working shirtless on some project in the backyard with your father, those fucking abs. All glistening, sweaty skin, that v-line, that happy trail...
It's not your fault he's starring in all of your late night fantasies now. It's his. It's his because he shouldn't be allowed to look that fucking good, to smell and sound and feel that good, when you can't have him. Because of course you can't.
He's twenty-two years older than you. He's your dad's new best friend.
You can't.
You can't flirt with him like you want to, you can't have him, because it would be wrong. But you also can't not.
You don't mean to taunt him, not at first. At first, it's just instincts. Talk to him, get his attention. But the more you're around him... the less you can control yourself.
You want to then. You want to graze your fingers across his thigh when your father isn't looking, you want to suck the straw of your drink into your mouth while you blink up at him, you want to accidentally drop your spoon and bend over in front of him. You want to because you know he wants you to.
Even though he doesn't say it, even though he forces himself to turn away when you walk by him, you see the way he looks at you. You catch him staring, you catch him eyeing you up and down. You notice the tick in his jaw and the way his fists clench at his sides. You watch his knuckles turn white as he grabs the neck of his beer bottle and takes a deep sip.
You know he's most definitely attracted to you.
Because even if you imagine half of those things - there's still the car incident. There's still your number saved in his phone. There's still 'darling' on your mind. Mostly the way he's repeated it since then, two or three times maybe, each one inspiring more sinful bedtime scenarios.
You can't.
He can't.
And yet neither of you doesn't.
...
Your parents are away when it happens. Your dad has to go on a trip for work and he takes your mother with him, surprises her with an extra weekend of romance just for the two of them. They're gone by Wednesday morning and won't be back until Sunday afternoon and even though you're twenty-five and have experience living on your own, they've asked Jake to check in on you, just to make sure you're okay.
The first time he 'checks in on you' is involuntary. He's just come back from work, it's Wednesday, 3pm, and he's sitting down on his back porch with a beer when he spots you.
He really doesn't mean to. He hadn't even known you were there.
But the fence between your house and his isn't high and so it's only natural that his eyes flick over to your garden once.
And then twice.
Because you're climbing out of the pool in the tiniest black bikini Jake has ever seen in his life, looking like some angelic, biblic, ancient goddess - your hair in a messy bun, droplets of water running down your bare skin, muscles working as you pull yourself up the little ladder and put both feet against solid, dry ground, leaving wet footprints with every step you take until you grab your towel, sling it around your shoulders and-
Look right at him.
Your lips tug into a flirty grin. You wave at him, your hand lingering in the air a second too long before you wrap the towel tightly around yourself and tread towards the fence. Jake can't do anything but watch you go and swallow hard.
The other option would probably be to drag you into his arms and ravage you until your throat is sore from screaming his name.
So he just sits there and stares at you instead.
"Hey there", you greet as soon as you're close enough to the fence that he can't look past your belly button anymore.
"Hey", Jake says and for whatever reason, his voice sounds raspy even to himself. Your grin only deepens.
"Do you have plans for dinner yet?", you ask. You bat your lashes at him innocently as you dry off your arms. "I was going to order take out."
So that's why three hours later, Jake rings your doorbell, in a black button up he spent twenty minutes picking out. The last time he'd spent that long in front of the closet, he'd been about fifteen years younger and about to go on an actual date. This isn't an actual date. This is anything but a date, because he's only supposed to check in on his best friend's daughter. He's supposed to look after you. Keep you safe.
But you open the door in an oversized, washed out band tee and smile so stunningly that he forgets what he's supposed to do in about half a second.
There's a moment of silence as Jake stares at you. He knows that damn band tee.
"Is that... mine?", he asks in disbelief as he waits for the sight to sink in, which it does not do. His mind blanks completely. It's not just that it's oversized and that you look like you're drowning in it, which already has him imagining the way he could flatten his palms against your stomach and feel for you in that heap of fabric. It's also that he knows this fucking shirt because he's been wearing it for the past ten years.
You look down like you're just realising what you have on, not like you'd almost had a heart attack when you'd seen it in the laundry basket, squealing so loudly that your mother had come in to check on you. Jake had worn that shirt the same day and apparently forgotten to put it back on when he'd gone home, so your mother had put it in the laundry.
She hadn't realised that you'd stolen it for yourself before she could wash it. She probably hadn't paid it that much attention.
You had though. And tonight had felt like the perfect occasion to wear it.
"I found it in the laundry", you say truthfully, looking up at him with big eyes. "Dad said it wasn't his so I just took it. Maybe a mix up. Do you want it back?"
Your fingers reach for the hem of the shirt down by your thighs, tugging mindlessly up just a tiny bit. Jake almost stumbles over his own words with how quick he is in denying you.
"No, no, keep it", he reassures. "Keep it."
You let go of the shirt as your grin widens.
"Okay then", you say softly, turn around and leave the door open so Jake can get in. You stroll into the kitchen, crack open the fridge and grab the freshly made iced tea while Jake closes the door behind him and puts away his shoes.
It could have easily been awkward. Honestly, Jake isn't sure that it's not. But it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... heavy. Drowsy. As though you're moving in slow motion, looking at him over your shoulder with a sultry grin. And in his shirt as well. His fucking shirt, it's unbelievable.
You're smiling at him over Chinese take out food with the radio playing softly in the background and the dim kitchen light on and it could have been almost normal, almost nothing, almost just a friendly dinner with his best friend's daughter.
But it isn't.
It isn't because you're leaning over the table and stealing a spring roll from him, grinning at him when he starts to protest. It isn't because you're pushing him back down onto his chair when he wants to get up and help you clear the table, leaning most definitely too close to him to grab his plate and bending most definitely too far down to put it into the dishwasher. It isn't because you're opening a bottle of whiskey, pouring him one and only then asking if he's going to stay and watch a movie with you.
You've already poured him the drink.
Not that he'd been planning to say no.
You're not close to him on the couch, not really. You're a respectful distance away as you put your own drink onto the table in front of you and grab the remote. You're still a respectful distance away as you scroll through a bunch of movies and ask him if he's got any preferences - besides football, of course.
But when you decide on a movie, on one of those rom-coms he'd never watch willingly, you're draping your legs over his and brushing your hair away from your face and he has to swallow hard.
His hands drop to your bare skin almost instinctively. He can't keep them off of you, not when you're this close to him, not when you're offering so prettily. It's like he has to touch you, has to brush his thumbs across your ankles.
This could all be normal. This could all be usual.
Jake doesn't bother paying attention to the movie. It's not like he could possibly pay attention to it, not when his fingers are running up and down your soft skin. So he doesn't really mind that he misses their first kiss, even as you look up from the drink you're refilling with a gasp and wide eyes to watch.
Jake just watches the way your hair frames your face, those droplets of iced tea on your lips before you wipe them off. He's sure he could taste them if he tried to.
You lean back into the couch then and stretch and your shirt - Jake's shirt - rides so far up that he catches sight of your underwear. Fuck.
He has to grab onto you hard so that he doesn't launch himself right on top of you. His mouth is dry all of a sudden, so dry that he has to swallow. You blink up at him as you feel his hands clench around your ankles, your teeth digging into your bottom lip to keep from grinning.
He needs a few seconds to even look up at you. It's like his eyes are glued to that expanse of bare skin at your hip, clinging to the thought of you in your underwear right before him. You're always wearing shorts. You're always wearing shorts. You're always fucking wearing shorts.
Shit.
He shouldn't. He can't.
But his hands brush up your calves and he does look back at you then, which really isn't better, because your lip is still caught between your teeth and your expression is so sinful that he has to bite down on his own tongue.
"Jake", you breathe, all soft and quiet and that's it. That's his breaking point.
You can't just say his fucking name like that, not in his shirt, not while presenting him such a good look at your underwear, and expect him to be okay.
"Fuck", he mutters, then he's on you.
It's an uncomfortable position. You're half turned to him, half away, your legs are still thrown over his lap, which means he can't really push close to you, but his lips are against yours, so firmly, so passionately that you can't care, not right then.
Your eyes fall shut and you kiss him back with the same fervor, the same heat, the same fucking desperation to finally feel him. You part you lips almost too eagerly, too quickly, just so he can stroke his tongue along yours. His hands dig into your thighs, grabbing you tightly, and your arms cross behind his neck to drag him down to you - just that your legs are really in the way now and you have to try and pry one from his lap so that he doesn't crush it, which isn't all that comfortable and takes a while too long to still be sexy. You hardly mind. Jake doesn't either, only pulls his knees up to the couch to climb on top of you.
The whole thing is complicated and annoying and decidedly too time consuming, but his lips are on yours and he's pressing against you, catching himself with a palm against the couch cushions and lowering you to lie down, every single touch frenzied and hurried and hot. Heady and heavy and horny.
You're dragging your hands through his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching your nails across his scalp. He's grabbing your hips with his free hand, grasping your thighs, tangling his fingers in your shirt and digging them into your skin.
You're grinding against him. Not softly, not carefully, not secretly. You're wrapping your legs around him and grinding against him, almost without realising it - you need to be close, you need to be closer. You need to move. You need to feel him.
At the first moan you let out, Jake stills. When you breathily add his name, he pulls back entirely.
It's cold and empty without him, cold and empty and confusing as he settles back on his ankles, panting and wide-eyed. Your arms and legs drop to the couch as you try to catch your breath.
"No", Jake mutters. "We can't."
You push yourself up onto your palms, chest still heaving as you look up at him. Your cheeks feel so hot that you're sure they're embarrassingly red by now and your mind is still hazy with what just happened -
Jake had kissed you. He'd kissed you and you'd kissed him back.
And now he isn't kissing you anymore and you're absolutely not alright with that. You need him to kiss you again. You need to dig your hands into his hair and feel him knead your thighs again. You need to find out what it's like to rake your nails along his arms and scratch down his back.
"Jake", you breathe, staring at him all wide-eyed as he shakes his head and inches even further away from you. He seems like he's in a trance. You repeat his name more forcefully and reach out for him - but he only shakes his head again and runs a hand down his face.
You still for the entirety of two seconds. Then you sit up, inches closer to him than necessary, and toy with the hem of your shirt. You've got a hunch that giving and taking the sight of your underwear will only help your case here.
"Why not?", you ask as you watch his eyes drop down, just like you'd wanted. His breath catches.
"You're twenty-five", he begins, his voice a bit too rough to sound unaffected. "And I'm friends with your father."
You take a long look at him.
"Would you if you weren't friends with my father?"
You bite down on your lip and blink up at him as prettily as you can manage. You're quite sure you know the answer. Especially with that car incident... With your number saved in his phone. With that smug grin you still see in your fantasies.
He hadn't been too concerned with your age back then.
"I am friends with your father", Jake says, all the while struggling to drag his eyes back up your body.
"But if you weren't", you go on, not ready just yet to leave this be - because you know that if you back down now, you'll never get a chance again. Not like this. Not with him. "If you weren't friends with my father. Would you?"
A muscle ticks in his jaw. You hold your breath - one, two, three seconds. Then he's on you yet again and this time, this time with no end in sight. Not as he pushes you back down onto the couch and sets both his palms down next to your head. Not as you wrap your legs around his waist and work the buttons of his shirt, fingers moving so frantically that you slip up more than once - not that you care.
You're kissing Jake. After what has felt like an eternity of teasing and quietly flirting, you're finally kissing him, touching him, feeling him. On top of you, all around you.
Yes, he fucking would. You were right.
His shirt finally unbuttons and you can hardly push it out of the way quickly enough to run your hands down his chest - exploring his collarbones, his abs, that fucking happy trail that has been driving you insane ever since you saw it for the first time. Your fingers brush bare skin, warm, hot, bare skin, before they catch on his waistband. He grinds his hips onto yours as you draw your fingertips along his belt and swallows the moan you so pathetically let out.
You're just about to get to work on opening his belt buckle when he shifts his weight onto one hand and grasps your wrist with the other, pulling an inch away from you as he does so, lips parting in sticky intoxication.
"Jake", you mewl, but when you blink open your eyes he's already shaking his head softly and- grinning. Grinning that smug grin that you've been dreaming of. The one you haven't seen since the very first time you met him. Not with your dad around or directed at anyone else, no. The grin that takes your breath away right then, and you can't even tell why.
It's confident and cocky and cheeky and so, so very, very sexy. Fuck.
You stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips, too caught up in taking him in to notice how he's bringing both your hands up over your head.
"If we're doing this, I'm doing it right, darling", he mutters, all low and rough and the pet name has you clamping your thighs even harder around him. "And only if you want me to."
You can't nod quickly enough.
"I need you to tell me, baby", he grins, exposing those pearly whites that you'd very much like to feel biting into your neck or something. "I need you to say yes."
"Yes, Jake", you push past your lips, breathless and panting and desperate. Desperate for him. "Please."
His chuckle reverberates in your own chest. He runs his hand down your side and rubs a soft circle against the bare skin of your hip, catching on the flimsy fabric of your underwear.
"Already begging for me", he mutters with a grin, his fingers hooking into your waistband. Your hips buck up into his and a moan drops from your lips and Jake just keeps on grinning. Keeps on running his thumbs along your hip bones. "That easily."
You can't even deny it, deny him. You need him to touch you and you need him to do it now.
"You're lucky I want to taste you, because I'm sure it'd be fun to tease you", he chuckles, holds you down against the couch as he sits back on his ankles, keeping your legs spread and the dark spot on your underwear right on display for him. "I could keep you here all night."
You're not sure what excites you more - the promise of all night or the tasting you part. Either way, you bury your hands into your own hair and tug hard to keep yourself from sitting up, pushing him onto his back and riding him into oblivion. He wouldn't let you anyway, you're guessing.
Jake runs his free hand down the inside of your thigh and you really have to concentrate on not moving then. Every touch, every brush and every stroke sends shivers down your spine and pools in your core, heating up each inch of your skin.
When he reaches your underwear once more, he hooks his second thumb into it as well and tugs. Your jaw clenches. God, you've gotta keep still, you've just gotta wait-
He looks up then and raises his eyebrows.
"Please, Jake", you breathe, before he can even say anything. His eyes drop again and he pulls your underwear down, down, down, pushing your knees together to slide them off your legs and you're holding your breath, holding your breath in this intoxicating mess of a moment as he parts your thighs again and leans in. Leans closer.
Leans... not close enough.
Instead, he grabs the hem of your shirt.
"As much as I like that you're wearing my shirt", he mutters, already pushing it up and exposing your stomach to him, "I want to see you."
You let out a pathetic little moan, loosen your hands from your hair and pull his shirt over your head instead, dropping it down onto the floor without looking or bothering where it lands. You're not really bothered about anything besides getting Jake's mouth on you right now.
You're dripping already, dripping down your own thighs as he takes you in - all naked, all bare in front of him, soft skin and smooth curves, chest rising and falling with your heavy breath, eyes half-closed, lips parted and kiss-swollen.
It's wrong. He shouldn't. But he's already gone too far and now, now, with all of you for him to see, to touch, to feel, he can't go back. He can't ever go back.
He wants to burn this image into his memory forever.
"Jake", you whisper, voice just as soft and silky as the rest of you and he snaps out of his trance, runs his fingertips over your stomach, studies you as your breath catches. He leans down again, but his eyes are fixed on you still, focused even as he presses a kiss to your hipbone, then to the inside of your thigh. His teeth graze your skin and his fingers brush against the underside of your boobs.
Fuck.
You bite down on your lip.
Jake thinks he might be in heaven as he palms at your breasts, swiping his thumbs across your nipples and watching your expression change ever so slightly. He breathes against your wetness and his eyes flicker down to finally look at you, dripping for him. His fingers still for just a moment.
If he does this, there's no going back. He's crossing a line that he can never uncross.
But in all honesty - he's already long crossed that line.
So he flattens his tongue against you and tastes you. And you throw you head back and let out a moan that's so filthy that he can't even be bothered to care about what fucking lines he's crossing anymore. He just buries his face in your wetness and basks in the way your eyes roll back into your head.
Your hands dig into his hair all by themselves, tug and pull and push him closer, further into you. You taste heavenly. You are in heaven. You're in heaven with Jake between your legs, brushing his tongue through your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth and groaning into you. He's running his fingers over your breasts, palming and grasping at them, circling and tracing.
That's when the movie stops.
You hadn't even realised it was still on, to be honest, but now, in the silence, your moans echo three times as loud. Jake bathes in the sounds you're letting out. You're absolutely gorgeous like that, teeth tugging at your bottom lip, cheeks flushed, eyes fluttering closed before you blink them open again to look at him, to watch him as he lays between your thighs.
You're soaking in the way he swipes his tongue against you, the way he palms at your skin. With every touch and every brush, you can feel the knot tightening. Can feel the tension in your limbs growing. Can feel the way your legs are starting to clamp tighter, tighter and tighter around Jake's head.
He's so good at this. He's so fucking good at this.
Your grip on his hair tightens so much that you're sure you have to be hurting him, but he doesn't show the slightest hint of wanting to tell you off for it. No, quite the opposite: he pushes further into you and groans his approval.
Which is about the last thing you can take.
Your legs cramp, your hands drag at his hair, your back arches, your head hits the armrest of the couch and Jake guides you through your high, eyes set on you, focused and fixed on you, watching every single reaction you have to him, drinking in the sight of you, drinking in your moans. You're pushing back against him, panting and clawing at him, lips parted and eyes shut tightly as you take in a shaky breath and sink slowly back against the couch.
The air is heavy. Heavy with your emotions, heavy with your orgasm, heavy with your moans.
Jake pulls back slowly, softly, draws his hands down to your stomach to rub circles onto your skin - significantly warmer now than before. You're still breathing heavily, legs unhooking from around his head only reluctantly. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he'd just decided to stay down there for the next three to five business days. But you also don't mind as he pushes himself up and presses a kiss to your lips, because he tastes like you and you get to hook your arms around his neck and pull him even further down onto you.
With his half-bare chest pushed against yours, his tongue runs along your lips and you open willingly up to him. More than just willingly. Because with him on top of you, his lips sticky and syrupy on yours, not wanting or not able to part from yours, there's already anticipation running in your veins, wetness pooling in your core again, the urge to wrap your legs around him and grind against him growing and growing with every second that he's kissing you.
You draw your hands down his throat, push his shirt out of the way and brush your palms down his bare torso, all hard abs against your fingertips. He's in such good fucking shape you could truly be running your hands up and down a washboard right now. It feels unfair that he's more than twenty years older than you and somehow fitter.
Your fingers catch on his waistband then.
"Jake", you whine softly against him. "Please, I need you."
He groans, drops his head down to your neck and for a second, you just hear him breathe - all hot and heavy before his lips graze your skin.
"Fuck, you can't say that, darling", he mutters. "You don't know what you do to me."
His belt buckle feels cold against your fingertips, so cold against your sticky, sweaty skin.
"Show me", you whine, beg, plead. He's not teasing you, not taking his time, he's not waiting or edging or anything, and still- Still, you're so fucking desperate. He's finally got you here, finally, and as much as you're sure you'd enjoy his teasing... You just need him to fuck you. Now.
Jake chuckles breathily as he raises his head to look down at you. There's that grin again. That fucking grin.
Then he plants that grin onto your lips and you moan softly, hooking your fingers into his belt and pulling hard. You've just started loosening it successfully when he sits back onto his ankles, leaves you cold and lonely and fully naked on the couch. You mewl.
"Jake-", you let out, but he's already standing up, climbing off of the couch and you're sitting up as if in trance, just to follow him, whatever it is that he has in mind.
He slips off his shoes before he starts to work his belt and then lets that fall to the ground too. You reach for him instinctively, drawing your fingertips along his thighs as he pops the button of his jeans and pulls down his zipper, but when he hooks his thumbs beneath his waistband and tugs down, something snaps inside of you.
"Wait", you whisper. "Let me."
You reach out for him and graze your fingers along his waistband, taking a breath as your eyes flutter up at him. He swallows hard, lets his arms drop to his sides and nods heavily. God, he looks so fucking attractive. His hair all messy, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed solely on you. You make sure to work quickly, almost frenzied, hurriedly pulling down his jeans and taking his briefs right with them. You won't spend unnecessary time on unimportant things.
Your breath catches, palms stilling against his thighs.
Fuck.
Jake's hand twitches, then clenches into a fist. But he stays right where he is, doesn't move an inch. Everything in him screams at him to run his fingers through your hair and guide you closer to him - but he doesn't. He won't. Not tonight, not right now. Right now, he wants to give you every out he can. Just in case you want to take it.
You don't. Of course not.
Not when you can see just how much he's holding himself back.
So instead you lean down and kitten-lick his tip. His hand flexes, again, and even though he lets out a deep groan that will surely echo in your head for the next two weeks, he stays still.
You just wrap your fingers around the base of his cock and take him into your mouth.
He has to close his eyes and tilt his head up to keep from bucking into you. Damn, it hasn't even been that long since he got blown. And he didn't react like a teenager then. But something about your warm, wet mouth, something about the way your dainty fingers reach around him, something about how you eagerly take him so far that he hits the back of your throat, something about that soft little gagging noise you make just before you pull off of him to breathe in deeply-
Fuck, you're making this really hard for him.
"Jake", you mutter, your hand still working him. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, looks down at you sitting there on the couch, completely naked, eyes all wide and cheeks flushed and so fucking stunning. His fingers brush along your forehead, tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
"Jake", you repeat, a little more breathlessly this time. "Don't hold back for me. I won't break."
His jaw clenches again, but you just blink up at him, the weight of your words heavy between you. His eyes roam your face for any sign of uncertainty - then he nods. He'd like to disagree, though. He's more than afraid he'll break you.
You're so young, so sweet, so fragile.
Just not innocent. And you feel like you have to remind him of that - of your more than obvious flirting, of your sultry grins and half-naked hints, of your number sitting so unashamedly in his contacts.
So you lean in again, pull your free hand from his thigh and grab his wrist instead, dragging it away from your cheek and planting it on the back of your head as you wrap your lips around him. He takes a shallow breath and your hand drops back down to his thigh. There's one, two seconds in which your eyes just flutter closed and your nails dig into his skin-
Then, finally, fucking finally! Jake tangles his fingers into your hair and pushes you into him. You loosen your hand from around him and put it against his other thigh, allowing him to pull you closer and closer. You breathe deeply through your nose as Jake groans above you - and it takes everything in you not to grin. Instead, you just let him guide you, blink open your eyes to look at him and try to ignore the arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs. He looks so fucking good, it should truly be forbidden, because now you have to press your legs together and steady your palms against him.
Jake feels about the same. His breathing is heavy, his grip on your hair firm, and his eyes are set on you - on how he disappears inside your mouth, again and again, your spit coating him, your throat tight. He can't help but push you down, one time, two times, and pull you back, three times, four times, then push you down and pull you back again. And again. And again. He can hardly concentrate on how good you're making him feel when you're looking that fucking sinful.
Shit.
Before he can come right then and there in your mouth, he tugs you off fully, his jaw clenching involuntarily at the soft whine you let slip. But you can barely be truly bothered when he leans down and presses his lips to yours instead. You're not bothered about anything, really - about anything but his tongue against yours as you cross your arms behind his neck and draw him in, your hands dragging into his hair, your mouth moving desperately against his, sloppily, silently begging him for more.
Jake steadies his palms against the back rest and pulls away heavily, breathing hard as you open your eyes again to look at him - half-lidded, all languid and slow. He swallows hard.
"Do you-", he starts, his voice low and rough and you nod, letting your arms drop from around him to point at the side table.
Have a condom, he'd wanted to ask. In any other situation, he'd have one himself, but something about bringing condoms for a check in on his best friends daughter would have felt incredibly wrong.
"In my makeup bag", you say, your voice thin and breathy as he stretches and reaches for the lavender coloured pouch, unzipping it and looking for the condoms between all the brushes and lipglosses. He can barely pull one out before your fingers close around it, before you've carefully torn it open. He drops your makeup bag back onto the side table right as you straighten up to press a kiss to his lips - almost innocent, almost, if it weren't for the taste of him on your tongue. Then you press a kiss onto his collarbone. Then one right onto his abs. Then one just above that happy trail that has been driving you fucking insane. And then, then, you run your tongue over his tip again before you roll the condom onto him.
Which means it's his turn.
And he doesn't hesitate.
He's not rough in the way he pushes you onto your back on the couch, no, he's smooth with it, hands running along your skin as he cages you in, as he rests his arms next to your head - but he's firm nonetheless. He takes control easily, moving you how and where he wants to, claiming your mouth, pressing his lips to yours. You let him. More even, you relish in giving in to him, in giving him control, in letting go, in trusting him. You bathe in his kisses, in his touches, in his soft grunts as he guides himself into you.
"Jake", you whine against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, eyes falling shut. The stretch is delicious, heavenly. He fills you slowly, dragging his lips down your throat as you tilt your head back and let out a filthy moan. Your legs wrap around him, pull him closer. His teeth graze your neck, drawing a moan from you as he settles. He gives you a moment to adjust.
A moment too long.
Way too long.
Even with his lips on your skin, with your nails dragging down his neck, digging into his shoulders, even with him inside of you, you need more. You need him to move. Right fucking now.
"Jake", you mewl, your eyes fluttering open. He raises his head to look at you and- Fuck, good lord. You've messed up his hair and his pupils are wide and his cheeks are red and he looks fucking heavenly. So heavenly that your breath catches. You forget what you wanted to say for a moment. Then his thumb brushes your cheek and you remember.
"Move", you breathe, digging your fingers into his skin and wrapping your legs around him tightly. You need him to move. But his lips tug up in that grin again and, as quickly as you can, you add- "Please, Jake."
His grin widens as he looks down at you, all pretty and desperate, clenching around him, lips parting in a silent moan. It would be so easy to tease you, so easy to make you beg and plead for him... And you'd look so gorgeous doing it. You're already so eager to please him.
But not tonight. Not right now. Right now, he just needs to make you feel good. So he leans down, presses a kiss to your lips and moves. Finally.
You open up to him eagerly, letting him run his tongue along yours, moaning into him as he thrusts into you. Deep and languid, hitting all the right spots like no one has before. Fuck, fuck, fuck-
You're really doing this. He's really doing this. You claw at his back, scratch down his skin, sure to leave bruises as he pulls his head up to look at you, to watch the way you arch up into him. Your skin glistens with sweat, your lips part to let out a breathy mewl and the coil in your stomach tightens, tightens, tightens.
Jake shifts his weight onto one arm, frees a hand to brush his fingers through your hair, tugging, tilting your head back, exposing your throat to him. You moan at the ceiling as he drops a filthy kiss onto your collarbone before he lets go of your hair again, trailing his hand down your side instead - and his hand is so fucking big, so big as he draws it down your body, brushing his fingertips over your boob, sweeping over your hip, grasping your thigh. You pull him down onto you, crash your lips back onto his hard. You need to feel him, you need to kiss him, you need to hold him right now. You need him. You need this.
He smoothes his fingers down your skin until they catch on your clit.
"Jake", you moan into his mouth, pathetic even to your own ears. He only grins into the kiss and circles your clit as he thrusts into you, again and again and again, your legs clenching harder and harder and harder around him before he pulls away, pulls even further away even though you chase after his lips, his eyes roaming your face as you squeeze yours shut tightly.
"Look at me, darling", he drawls, his voice low and raspy, his fingers rough against your clit. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."
You let out some kind of deranged moan at his crude wording, opening your eyes and blinking up at him because there's no fucking way you can deny him. Not when he calls you darling like that. Not when he thrusts inside you just right. Not when the view of him, messy hair and grinning and all, has you clenching around him this hard.
You're close. So close.
"Atta girl", he mutters, and that does it for you.
Your legs cramp and your lips part again to let out a gorgeous little moan that Jake swallows up immediately, slotting his mouth over yours and drinking up the way you clench around him. It takes everything in him not to come too. You're so fucking pretty and you're clenching so fucking perfectly around him, but he needs to make you feel good first, he needs to make you come first, he needs...
"Jake", you mewl, face scrunched up, back arched, as he guides you through your second high of the night. "Fuck, fuck."
He's grinning when you come down. You grab his hand and pull it away from your clit. It's too much right now, too much. It takes a second for you to even realise that he's stopped moving entirely, too focused on watching you, on drinking up the sight of you, tousled hair and red cheeks and parted lips and all. You look like an angel, so fucking heavenly that he can't believe his eyes, not really.
"Jake", you mutter, slurring his name so prettily and pulling him in for another kiss, your arms loose around his neck, your fingers lazily brushing through his hair. "Come for me?"
It's barely more than a breath, barely more than a whisper onto his lips, but he hears it, oh, he hears it. He lets out a groan as he draws away again, his eyes roaming your face. You're unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable.
You're asking him to come for you. Begging him to come for you.
And there's no grin in sight, no smug smile, no hint of trying to take control of him - it's not a command, not even close, you're actually, genuinely pleading, your eyes half-lidded and barely focusing, just needing him to feel good now, too.
You're really fucking unbelievable.
He can't remember ever having a woman ask him to come.
He kisses you so hard you become dizzy, pressing his lips onto yours and tangling a hand into your hair. He pushes impossibly closer, thrusts back into you and pulls another string of moans from you, bordering on incomprehensible, hardly more than breaths, mewls that he swallows before they can flee into the empty air of the living room.
His own breathing comes in pants, his muscles clenching and tensing and he's there quicker than he thought he'd be. He's close, really close, and that's when you decide to dig your teeth into his lip and tug and fuck, he's there, alright. He's done then. He spills inside you with a groan, pulling back right as you flash him a dazed grin, eyes fluttering open to take him in.
Your throat feels way too dry all of a sudden.
You don't think you'll get this image out of your head ever again, this image of him coming undone on top of you. It's burning itself into your memory while you watch, never to be forgotten.
Because hell no, you won't forget this.
"Fuck", Jake groans, his voice all rough and hoarse and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips again, slow this time, almost soft. He brushes a thumb down your cheek, lightly cups your jaw and pulls you even closer, your skin warm beneath his fingers.
You tighten your arms around his neck a bit, keeping him firmly there, firmly on top of you, firmly inside of you. But he makes no move to leave, anyway. Just runs his tongue tenderly along yours, unhurried and gentle, and holds you close. You don't know for how long. He could've kept you there for eternity and you wouldn't have minded. How could you mind, basking in the afterglow like this, with his skin sticking to yours, his fingers grazing your cheek, his lips brushing against yours? No, really, you could've stayed there for the rest of forever.
But he pulls back after a while, of course, and pulls out, too. You let out some kind of disappointed mewl, but that's about everything you can do before he gently grasps your wrists and pulls your arms from around him, smiling in a way you can't even begin to complain.
"Lets get you cleaned up, darling", he says softly, carefully helping you sit up, his hands everywhere but nowhere nearly long enough.
You sigh dramatically, blinking your eyes open to look at him, even as you let him pull you up. Your legs feel like pudding. You feel like pudding.
"If we have to", you give in, smiling as Jake grins and shakes his head at you.
"We have to", he chuckles, hauls you up into his arms and waits for you to hold onto him before he carries you into the bathroom - seemingly fucking without any problem whatsoever, as if you weigh nothing at all to him.
You bite down on your lip and rest your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut to not have to look at him while you contemplate his strength. He should not be this fucking strong. He should not be allowed to be this fucking strong.
"Careful", Jake says, his voice low, as he sets you gently down on the toilet seat. You flinch away from the ice-cold seat against your thighs, fingernails digging into his shoulders for one, two, three seconds before you relax and settle down.
Jake lets go of you just as softly, steadying you until he's sure you won't just fall right off the toilet. He turns and you look up, his back right there to stare at, a smile tugging at your lips again - goddamn, he looks way too good, holy shit. You barely hear the garbage can open and close as he throws away the used condom, then rummages through the drawers until he finds a washcloth that he can soak in luke warm water.
He turns with a smile, grabs your chin tenderly and presses a kiss to your lips, just one, all sweet and languid, so unlike the rest of his kisses. You hardly notice that he's cleaning you off as he kneels down in front of you, simply because you're so entranced by him. God, but he really looks like he's fucking glowing, you hate him for having this effect on you.
He wraps his arms around you again - did he put the washcloth away? fuck, did you miss that? - and you cuddle close, almost (but just almost) letting out a pleased sigh. Fuck, he's so broad and so strong and so comfortable...
He sets you down on the couch and smiles.
"Wait here for me, darling", he mutters, bending down to pick up your shirt (his shirt, really) and slide it carefully over your head once again. You hug yourself close and settle deep into the couch as Jake disappears. His steps echo through the house.
Then there's silence.
Absolute silence.
You rest your head against the headrest and close your eyes, your fingertips absentmindedly drawing circles against your heated skin.
And in this quiet emptiness... the reality of the situation finally sinks in.
For the first time.
Because you just slept with Jake Seresin.
Jake Seresin. Your neighbour Jake Seresin. Your dad's best friend Jake Seresin. Twenty-two years older than you Jake Seresin.
Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.
This actually happened. This actually fucking happened. You slept with Jake Seresin. And somehow... somehow- Somehow you can't feel guilty. You can't feel bad or ashamed. Not like you should. And you definitely should. Because this is Jake Seresin, not some random frat guy. This is forty-seven year old, your dad's best friend Jake Seresin.
But you can't feel bad.
You really do try, for the entirety of a minute or two, while somewhere in the back of the house, a door is opened and closed again. But you still can't feel bad. So you don't.
Jake comes back with a water bottle and his briefs back on, which you can't help but feel disappointed at. He sits down on the couch next to you and hands you the bottle.
"Drink", he nods, so you uncap it carefully and take a sip. It's charming, really, how the first time you'd met him with your car broken down, he'd also handed you a water bottle. A grin tugs at your lips involuntarily. It's just coincidence, you know that, but there's something incredibly sweet about the way he's seemingly always made sure to keep you hydrated. There's something sweet about him, simple as that, with how softly he's cleaned you off and settled you down on the couch after.
You put the bottle down on the table and turn to him.
He looks almost normal again, almost like before. He's still nearly naked though (which you certainly aren't complaining about), and his hair still looks like he's just walked straight out of a hurricane. He raises his eyebrows at you as you take him in.
"We should probably talk about this", you say, your voice cracking halfway through. You're not sure you want to talk about it. And with the way Jake's face falls... yeah, he doesn't seem to, either. But he still straightens up and brings some more distance between the both of you.
Maybe that's smart, actually. Maybe. But then again, you've already done everything you could to try and feel bad, so instead of doing the reasonable (you're already way past the reasonable anyway) and pushing further away from Jake too, you stretch out a leg and drape it over his lap again.
A muscle in his jaw ticks and he grasps your ankle almost immediately, as if there's no other choice but to touch you even while he's trying to keep his distance.
"But", you grin, scooching a little closer as an idea forms in your mind, "You know, I still have to shower. Chlorine is so bad for the skin unless you wash it off. And I did spend quite a while in the pool today."
...
It's Monday afternoon and even hotter than the weeks before. You're sitting outside, sunbathing in the fifteenth layer of sunscreen of the day, with sunglasses on that hardly seem to do anything and wearing nothing but a bikini because god, you're fucking melting. It hasn't been this hot the entire year.
The only really good thing about the scorching heat is that Jake, for lack of swimming pools in his garden, is doing sets in yours. You're incredibly glad for your sunglasses, because even though your mother is sitting right next to you, burying her nose in another of the novels she'd checked out from the library two weeks earlier, you can ogle Jake without worrying that she'll catch you.
And goddamn, you're ogling, alright.
It's not like you haven't stared at him enough. Over the past five days, you've barely been doing anything else. Well, except for those times you'd had your eyes closed and his lips on yours, of course. But still, you don't really feel like you could ever possibly get enough of staring at him.
And right now, right now, with the way he climbs out of the pool, arms tensing and flexing, water dropping down his skin, his hands running through his soaking wet hair...
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You bite down on your lip and press your thighs together. God, if you aren't careful, you'll have to disappear into the house and shower early, because you're sure you could not pass the dark spot on your bikini bottoms off as sweat.
Jake turns away to grab his towel and starts to dry off and you're already mulling over how you'll phrase the message you'll send him (something along the lines of 'tell my parents you need to use the bathroom' with a shower selfie attached? You've already sent him way worse things while he'd been at work) when your mother suddenly gasps.
Three heads turn to her simultaneously.
"Jake!", she chokes, her book sinking down into her lap. Jake raises his eyebrows at her, just as clueless as you are. She parts her lips and then clamps her mouth shut again, apparently lost for words. "Your back."
It hits you like a tidal wave.
Oh, shit. Oh, holy fucking shit.
You should've noticed earlier. Much earlier. You should've- God, he'd known, too, hadn't he? But you'd been the one to stare at his back long enough that you should've noticed. Yesterday. You should've noticed the long, red lines running down his skin. Your long, red lines running down his skin. Fuck, fuck-
"Oh, that-"
Jake stumbles over his own words for the first time ever since you've met him. His eyes find yours, for just a moment or two, and you can see the panic in them. It's the second fucking day your parents are back. The second fucking day. And you're already messing up, you're already-
"I knew it", your mother grins, clapping her hands together and letting out a laugh that startles you so hard you flinch. "I knew you were a womanizer after all! I mean, looking like that, there's no other way-"
"Honey!", your father gasps, and she giggles and throws her hands up. But he's grinning too and you know him well enough to say he isn't really mad that she's complimenting Jake.
"Sorry, sorry, just saying." She chuckles to herself and grabs her book again, her voice dropping to a mumble. "I can't believe it though, we go away for five days and suddenly he's hooking up with someone! I think we need to stop inviting him over so often if we want him to find somebody."
Your father laughs and gets up to offer Jake a beer.
"You didn't happen to see who he brought home, did you?", your mother asks, her voice almost too casual to really be casual as she turns her head to look at you with raised eyebrows.
You choke on your breath.
"Um-", you start, but your father already rolls his eyes and saves you without meaning to.
"You're not nosy at all", he chides, resting his beer bottle against her foot. She tugs it away and shakes her head at him.
"Just curious", she grins. "Just curious."
Yeah. Just curious. You pray to god that just curious won't one day expose the little secret you've got going on with Jake. Next time, you'll really have to be more careful with your nails.
572 notes · View notes
the-offside-rule · 2 months
Text
Lando Norris (McLaren) - All Over Again
Requested: yes
Prompts: 5) "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again."
48) "I love our cuddles."
49) "Stay here tonight."
Warnings: none tbh
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Lando couldn't believe he was back in England, the familiar sights and sounds bringing a rush of nostalgia. He had done what he always did; gone for his morning run, ordered a hot chocolate to take away, and head on home to have his pre-made breakfast. As he strolled through the town, he couldn't help but wonder what had changed since he left for his racing career. Little did he know, he was about to encounter a significant blast from the past. He figured he may as well have a proper look around this time and so, he made his way up a side street, looking around and even spotting a few new shops.
Walking up a small street, off from his usual route, Lando's eyes widened as he spotted Y/n, the girl he had once been deeply in love with and even dated whilst he was in Formula 2. They broke up in 2020 since they both just didn't have the time and promised that if the opportunity every rose again, they would revisit it. Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and then, recognizing him, Y/n's eyes lit up with surprise and joy. "Lando? Is that really you?" She exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and excitement in her voice. He grinned. "Yeah, it's me! How have you been?" Lando asked as the pair embraced one another. "I'm good. Still on the hot chocolate or have you made the move to coffee?" She asked, pointing at the cup in Lando's hand. "I've never liked coffee and I never will. How's uni going?"
"I just finished up last year. I'm kinda just working for now until I have enough to move away." She replied. "Move away? What would make you want to do that?" Lando asked. "Well you tell me. Last I heard of you was you moved to Monaco. Very fancy." She joked. They exchanged stories, catching up on the years that had passed since they last saw each other. Laughter echoed through the air as they reminisced about old memories and shared new experiences. It was as if time hadn't dimmed the connection they once had.
Lando, felt some serious nostalgia. "I'm going to have to head now. I have some things to do. But good luck and it was lovely seeing you again." Y/n smiled. "Yeah, we should get coffee or something sometime." He replied and watched as Y/n walked past him. As she walked away, he couldn't help but think that maybe this was the time to revisit their relationship, and so, he turned and jogged back towards her to give a suggestion. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? We can continue our conversation there." Y/n shook her head. "I have a few things to drop of to my mum's. I really can't."
"I'll come with you. I haven't seen her jn ages anyway." Y/n thought for a moment. Her mum would make such a fuss over Lando being back. She always brought Lando up, even to Y/n's last boyfriend. That conversation about Lando led to their break-up and since then she's always shrugged off any Lando conversations. "Okay fine." She said as Lando began to walk with her. "Do you want me to take something? Your hands seem full." Y/n nodded. "Please take the shopping bag. Its killing me here." Labdo laughed as he effortlessly lifted the back and hoisted it up over his shoulder. "Alright. Don't be such a show off."
Their break-up hadn't left a bitter taste, and they remained friends. The sun was shining, adding a warm glow to their amiable conversation. As they approached Y/n's mum's house, memories flooded back. Lando couldn't help but notice the nostalgia in Y/n's eyes. The door swung open before they even had a chance to knock, revealing Y/n's mum, who beamed at the sight of them. "Lando! Oh, it's been too long!" She exclaimed, enveloping Lando both in a tight hug. "Nice to see you too, Mum." Y/n mumbled as Lando grinned. "Come inside, I've just brewed some tea."
Once inside, the cozy aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Y/n's mum ushered them to the living room, where memories of shared laughter echoed. They settled in, sipping tea and catching up on life. Y/n's mum couldn't help but glance between them, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And that crash in Germany last year. Dreadful." Her mum said. "It was Belgium, Mum." Y/n corrected. Labdo turned and smirked at her. "Thought you didn't keep up with F1." The last time he saw her, she didn't really. She only really watched it when she was with Lando. "I can watch it if I want." She replied, sipping her tea. "Oh, you two always made such a lovely couple. Any chance you're getting back together?" She inquired with a mischievous grin.
Y/n spat her tea into the cup, as Lando gave an amused glance towards Y/n. "No, we're just good friends now." Y/n explained with a smile. "Well, that's good to hear. I always hoped maybe one day you'll find your way back to each other." Her mum said. Lando's lips twitched into a playful grin. "You never know. We could probably..." Y/n interrupted, taking it as a cue to change the subject. "Well, Mum, we've got a few more errands to run. Thanks for the tea!" They bid Y/n's mum farewell, stepping back into the sunlight. "Smooth, Lando." Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes at Lando's comment. "What?" Lando asked as if he didn't know what he had just done. "You always know how to keep things interesting," Y/n teased. Lando chuckled. "Hey, just keeping the possibilities open, you know?" Y/n shook her head, laughter bubbling up from deep within. "You haven't changed a bit."
Lando led the way to his new home. It was huge. Bigger than the one he grew up in and Y/n found that mental. "This is yours? Are you sure?" She asked. "Trust me, it's mine." He replied, opening the door. "There's a few boxes around the place. This is all just moving stuff. Don't mind them."
The aroma of spices and sizzling ingredients filled Lando Norris' kitchen as he worked diligently to prepare dinner for his good friend, Y/n. He hummed along to a tune playing softly in the background, feeling a sense of accomplishment in trying his hand at a new recipe.
Y/n walked around, a glass of wine in hand, looking at the photos that hung on the walls. From family photos to podium photos, she enjoyed looking at them. One in particular caught her eye. It was her at Lando's final Formula 2 race. They were all smiles and she couldn't help but feel the memories washing over her.
Just as Lando reached for a pot handle, a sudden hiss of pain escaped him. Lando winced, realizing he had touched the hot surface without protection. He quickly pulled back, shaking his hand in an attempt to soothe the sting. "Fuck." Lando muttered to himself, glancing around for a nearby kitchen towel. Y/n entered the room, drawn by the sound of his exclamation. "What happened, Lando?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Lando winced, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, just a little mishap. I guess cooking isn't exactly my forte."
Y/n chuckled softly, gently taking his arm to examine the burn. "Let me take care of that for you." As Y/n tended to his burn, Lando couldn't help but admire her delicate touch and caring nature. His gaze lingered on her, filled with a warmth he couldn't contain. "Don't look at me like that." Y/n said softly, catching Lando's gaze. Lando smirked teasingly. "Like what?" Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "You know exactly what I mean." He shrugged. "Have no idea what you mean." Rolling her eyes again, Y/n suggested, "How about I do the cooking, and you just help grab things when I need them?" Lando nodded.
As Y/n stired some pasta around in the pot, she jumped upon hearing music. "Oh, sorry. Too loud." Labdo mumbled as he turned the volume down on a speaker nearby. "Why are you playing Put Your Records On?" She asked. "I like it. You like it too last time I checked." Lando said, beginning to dance a bit. "Last time you checked was four years ago." Y/n replied. "Oh come on, you haven't changed that much." Lando chuckled. "You wanna bet?" She challenged.
Lando nodded, moving her hair across her shoulder and placing a gentle kiss onto her neck. "You like neck kisses, don't you?" Y/n found herself blushing and biting her lip to hide her smile. Lando's arms made their way around Y/n's torso, his chin resting on her shoulder. "You're playing a dangerous game, Lando." She said. "I know." Y/n set the cooking spoon to the side and gave in, turning and lifting her arms up around Lando's neck, swaying along with him. Soon enough, they were dancing, spinning and jumping around, carefree and happy. "Oh shit! The pasta!"
As they settled on the couch to watch a movie, Lando wrapped an arm around Y/n, feeling the warmth of their shared history. The prompts echoed in his mind, and he couldn't resist expressing his emotions. "I love our cuddles." He admitted, a genuine smile on his face. Y/n snuggled closer. "Me too. It feels like we never missed a beat." Lando looked up to her, the look of a lovestruck puppy in his eyes. "Stay here tonight." He asked. "Lando, I have work tomorrow." She replied. "You're acting like something is going to happen." Lando said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh shut up." The pair began laughing. As the laughing quietened down, they found themselves leaning in, centimetres away from eachother.
Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat as Lando looked between her eyes and then down to her lip. "Alright, but only if you promise to make breakfast tomorrow, and I get to teach you how to cook properly." Lando grinned. "Deal." And with that, he leaned in and closed the gap between them, Y/n kissing back into his lips.
The movie faded into the background as they continued their kiss, both missing the feeling of the others lips on theirs. "If I could, I'd like to fall in love with you all over again." Lando whispered between kisses. He could feel Y/n smile against him. "Maybe we can take it one step at a time, starting with breakfast tomorrow morning." Lando shook his head, lifting her up off the couch and walking towards the door. "Or we could start now and just start where we left off."
754 notes · View notes
byunpum · 4 months
Text
Safe heaven
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Pair: Neteyam x Human!reader (sully family, others na'vi)
Warning: Neytiri being a bit(a lot) controlling, forced pairing, cozy moments, comfort moments, All characters are adults.
Note: I had this draft half done, and decided to finish it today. Let's see what you think, I left it open ended. If it's received good feedback I'll continue…it's a short story. But how did you find it so far?
AVATAR MASTERLIST | Ko-fi
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4[final]
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Returning to the Omaticaya clan, where Neytiri was born, grew up and raised her children, was the best thing she could have done. After the confrontation with the RDA, things seemed to calm down. After a year of living in the Metkayina clan, the Sullys returned to their clan in the jungle. They were accepted immediately and things seemed to be running smoothly. But lately something was making neytiri anxious, and it was the future of her children. Tuk and kiri were still very young, they were just starting to live, lo'ak was still in training, he was not far away from becoming a man. But neteyam was already a man, he was at the perfect age to find a mate and make a family of his own. And neytiri was going to handle this. She wanted neteyam to make a good choice, neteyam was next in line to be Olo'eyktan. As the son of toruk makto, that was a position he had to take, and he had to have a good partner by his side. The mate neteyam chose also chose the position he wanted to belong to, and neytiri wanted him to have the best place in this clan.
Neytiri was given the task of introducing them to the best women in the clan, and with the best references. Many girls were after neteyam and she knew it…she had heard how the girls talked about how amazing and handsome her son was, but neytiri had to find the girl she found perfect. But whenever she introduced a new girl to neteyam he would just say hello…talk to her for a few minutes and that was it. He showed no interest in them, it was as if another ordinary clan member was talking to him. But this did not stop neytiri, that was until she met Lekka. She was a majestic na'vi, she was very beautiful. Not to mention how skilled she was at hunting, a true warrior. Neytiri thought that this girl would be the perfect match for her eldest son, besides the girl had told him that she was very attracted to neteyam and that she was interested in him. So neytiri took this sign as a good opportunity to introduce them both to each other.
Today was a hunting party, neteyam with the Na'vi hunting party had a good day. The hunt had been a success, and they were having a small celebration in the clan, just outside the hallelujah caves. A nice hidden place and perfect for carrying on the omaticaya traditions. The whole clan was there, including some humans. Of course, the Omaticaya clan already had to coexist with the good humans, who had helped them fight this battle between species. The laughter, the dancing filled the atmosphere with peacefulness…neteyam was with his group of friends, moving away for a moment to get a drink. It wasn't until he bumped into his mother. -"Neteyam I glad you're here," said neytiri, next to her was this girl, lekka. Neteyam had to admit she was very pretty. But… he wasn't impressed. -"Hi mom…" neteyam speaks nervously, he already knew where his mother was coming from. It wasn't the first time she introduced him to a na'vi girl. Neytiri laughs a little, taking the girl's arm to bring her closer to Neteyam. - "May I introduce you to lekka, she is the daughter of telup" speaks neytiri. Neteyam makes the 'I see you' sign waving to the girl.
Neteyam could see how nervous the woman was, she was shaking a little bit. And she was looking down, he felt a little sorry for these girls. Her mother always put them in this embarrassing situation. -"Nice to meet you… it's a pleasure. My name is neteyam" neteyam speaks. -"Yes… I've heard a lot about you," says Lekka with a trembling voice. Neytiri apologizes to the couple of guys, telling them that she was going to go get more food, but it was a pretend to leave them alone. According to her everything was going as she had planned. Neytiri proudly approaches the group that was waiting for her and watching from afar. Mo'at, Tsu'tey, Jake were looking at her walking towards them, with a big smile on her face. Neytiri approaches and sits down next to Jake. -"And what do you do now?" asks Mo'at, the woman didn't have to look at her daughter to know that she had done something. -"Me? nothing…the essentials," says neytiri, she is proud of her work, she has just introduced an amazing girl to her son.
"You know that's not going to work, right?" says mo'at. Listening as neytiri chokes a little on her drink. "Mother what are you talking about, of course I do" says neytiri, looking to jake for support. But he just shifts his gaze, trying not to be included in the conversation. On the other hand tsu'tey looks curiously at the two women. "You're trying to get neteyam together with that girl…you can tell he doesn't like her. Besides…this trying to get together never works, look at you," says mo'at. Now it was jake's turn to choke, but from laughter. He knew mo'at was referring to how he and neytiri met. Meanwhile tsu'tey made a groan of annoyance and leaned back on the log behind him. - "I witnessed that, and I agree with mo'at" complains tsu'tey watching as jake continues to laugh.
"Hey…but this is different. Neteyam is different, I know what I'm doing" says neytiri, sitting up more in her seat. She was getting upset, no one in her family understood her. But she wanted neteyam to make the right choice and take her rightful place again. "Love…I know why you're doing this, but it's not necessary. Neteyam will eventually find a girl he likes, you should leave him alone" jake says, but he can see how neytiri is looking at him with a pout. Grimacing for him to keep quiet, jake just laughs a little and keeps drinking. he knew neytiri was stubborn and didn't care what anyone else thought, she was going to do it. Jake watches as neteyam is talking to the girl. You could see how uncomfortable he was, fidgeting a little. His tail was curled up at his heels and he glanced at the group of friends from time to time. - "He looks very nervous," says tsu'tey, he was also looking at the boy. - "Why is he…neytiri" speaks mo'at, looking at his daughter. Neytiri rolls her eyes, and now looks at her son. She clearly noticed how uncomfortable the boy was, but she supposed it was normal. He had never talked to that girl before, he might be nervous because of how cute she was. -"They look good together," says Neytiri. - "Yes they look good…but he doesn't look good" jake grimaces, the interaction his oldest son was now having with that girl was horrible.
"Mo'at?" y/n taps the woman's shoulder, getting her attention. - "Oh, what's wrong?" says mo'at, turning to look at you. All the group's attention was now on you. -"I'm going to go rest, I've finished doing the chores you told me to do," you say, laughing a little.
You had been one of the human children born here in Pandora, just like Spider. And it was normal for you to have interacted with the na'vi from an early age… but while spider preferred to be playing with the sully children, you preferred to go look for fun elsewhere. And that's where you met mo'at, the woman noticed how every day you would go to her hut and watch her in awe as she worked. Or when she was doing her daily chores, you always followed her. She never complained about you, you were quiet and calm, so your presence pleased her. One day mo'at invited you to approach her, and that's when you started asking questions. Which surprised mo'at, you were a very intelligent child, for such a young age. Something told mo'at that she had to help you, and accept you. So she dedicated herself to become your guardian…she would teach you, take care of you and make you join the clan. She would never be your mother, but she would care for you like one.
"Oh thanks, I'll look at the results later" says mo'at, stroking your hand a little. -"Hey, why don't you stay a bit to celebrate… kiri is over there," says jake, waiting for you to accept. You had grown up with his children, you were practically a daughter to him. For some reason, neytiri had no problem with you when you were around his children, she thought you were good. But only that. -"mmm no thanks, I want to go rest" you apologize, and say goodbye to everyone. Starting your way to the lab. -" She has helped you a lot, hasn't she?" speaks tsu'tey, looking at mo'at. The woman was still looking at you from afar, with a proud look. - "You know…she has a great future. She's smart and a quick learner," mo'at says. -And not only in the medical field…in technology she is amazing, you have to see how she helps norm, she is very smart" says jake. Everyone is silent for a moment. -"Besides…she's a very sweet girl, she's good" says mo'at while he continues eating. Neytiri doesn't say anything, she just listens curiously and then turns all her attention to her son neteyam. When she looked, she saw that the boy was no longer there. Instead there was a lekka alone, waiting for the boy to return. Neytiri stood up quickly, approaching the girl. "Where is neteyam?" asked Neytiri, looking around to see if she could find her son. -"I don't know…he said he was going to look for something, and he hasn't come back," says Lekka. Neytiri was going crazy, she didn't know what she was going to do with that boy.
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After talking to mo'at, you decided to go to your favorite place. You knew you had told mo'at you were going to rest, but you didn't dare tell her where you were really going to go or do. Walking secretly, as you went deeper into the jungle, you thanked Pandora's nature for being so bright. It was a spectacle for your eyes, walking faster to get to your secret place. Not far away, about 20 minutes walk, there was a crashed plane. You were sure that it was from the first war that the RDA had with the clan, because it was very deteriorated, and the first time you had found it you had to clean some skeletons that were still inside. After a while this had become your secret place. You reached the entrance of the plane, opening it carefully… pushing open a door you had made out of metal. Entering and pointing at it as you closed the door. Approaching a machine you had created not long ago, stretching the rope so that it would turn on and start doing its job, oxygenating the area. This machine allowed the air around it to be clean and safe for you to breathe, at least 10 feet away. The plane had some closed areas, so that the good oxygen didn't get out, but still the pandora's air came in. But still, it was safe for you.
This was the best thing you did…invent. As Norm used to say, you were a little box of surprises, always inventing things and improving others. Since you were little you had been like that, your head was full of ideas and this hideout was the representation of that. Although it didn't have the best structure and your goal was to sign it completely, you were still working on it. Taking off your oxygen mask, placing it on the wall. To start getting more comfortable, he had to be here before long. Or so you thought, looking out the broken window a little. Not getting too close, without leaving your safe zone. You see that no one is around. You sit down near a small table you had down at night, starting to work on the new oxygen mask prototype you were making. You were so busy, you didn't hear the first knocking on the front door. Knock, knock, knock… the knocking got louder and you panicked. Keeping silent, and turning off the lights you had on.
Carefully approaching the door, to see who it was. -"Hey…baby it's me" you hear his voice, and smile a little relieved that it was him. You turn on all the lights and open the door quickly, meeting the boy. Neteyam was at the entrance, looking around, making sure no one was watching him. -"Hey get in quick…the air is getting thinner," you say, taking his hand and pushing him into the plane. Neteyam laughs as he enters carefully, lowering his head as he passes through the door. As soon as he enters, he can feel you wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him in a soft kiss. Giggling against your lips, as he holds you around the waist. Sitting carelessly on the floor. - "Y/N…love" neteyam was laughing, as you pull away caressing his face. Arranging his hair, looking at him carefully, studying his mood. He looked somewhat exhausted and overwhelmed…something seemed to be bothering him. -Are you upset?" you ask, watching as Neteyam lays his head on your chest.
He was sitting on the floor and you were standing between his legs. This allowed a perfect height for him to lie on top of you. -"I am… but it's not you," says Neteyam, as you hug his head closer to your chest. - "Well…anytime you want to talk about it, I'm here," you say. He closes his eyes for a moment, then pulls away from you. "hey, take this," neteyam pulls out of his small pouch, a piece of food that he had wrapped in a leaf. -I saw that you left quickly…you haven't eaten anything," says Neteyam, watching as you take the piece of food and walk away from him, sitting down right in front of him. "Mmmm yeah…I was going to eat with you, but…you looked busy" you open the leaf, but neteyam could see your raised eyebrows. -"Oh, that…this is lekka…you know how my mom is about introducing me to girls" says neteyam, taking your foot in his hands to start massaging it. He didn't want you to bother with him, he wasn't to blame.
"mmm she's very beautiful, I've heard how good she is" you speak, taking a bite of the meat. Now looking up to see neteyam, he was looking at you with a soft smile on his lips. His little eyes are sparkling, as if he is looking at the most beautiful thing in this universe. -"But she's not as beautiful as you…you know that," says neteyam, watching you grimace. Trying not to laugh or choke. Neteyam reaches out his hand, to wipe some sauce from your lips. - "I'm serious… you are so beautiful in my eyes" says the boy, leaving you speechless. He always left you speechless.
You two had grown up together, although you preferred to be with mo'at. You also went to play with spider and the sully boys. Even when you were growing up you preferred to be with neteyam, nothing ever happened. You were just good friends, it wasn't until neteyam had to leave the clan that you noticed that your feelings for him were much greater. Just like neteyam, you promised each other that you would see each other again. And so he kept it, when he returned to the clan the first person neteyam went to look for was you. From then on you had not separated, starting this relationship on the quiet. You used to meet here on the plane, and only here you could be together. Outside you were just good friends…but here is your secret hiding place, you were yourselves. This situation was time consuming, and sometimes it could be exhausting for the two of you.
After eating, and making jokes about hunting neteyam. You both decided to lie down and talk for a while. Neteyam was leaning back in a rather large chair in the plane. While you were lying between his legs, with your back against his chest. Netayam was holding your hand, playing with your fingers, looking at how strange and beautiful they were at the same time. - "Hey…did you notice that now the walls of the plane are sitting more" you speak, listening as Netayam answers you with a 'hmm'. - "I won't close all the windows though, so you can still get your air in and be comfortable in here" you speak. - "you're great baby… I don't know how you have all these ideas" says neteyam, kissing your hair. "I don't know, it's just natural" you laugh, feeling Neteyam wrap his arms around your torso. To pull you closer to him, kissing your shoulder. Lately you had been wearing the na'vi outfit that kiri had given you, and neteyam loved it. He could feel you better this way, without the horrible human clothes you used to wear.
"Baby… how about if you stay to sleep with me here…today?" asks neteyam, you can feel how his tail gives you some taps on your feet. He felt nervous about your answer, it wasn't the first time neteyam proposed this to you, but you always denied it. Saying that norm was waiting for you in the lab. It was partly true, but not that much. -"Mmm I'm not sure" you start to speak, but neteyam interrupts you. -"It would only be today… I don't want to leave you" neteyam hugs you more tightly. Norm wasn't necessarily expecting you, but you knew he was going to ask a lot of questions the next day. Just like neteyam, he knew what he was expecting and even more so coming from his mother. But he didn't really care, he wanted to rest with you, to spend more time with you.
You think about it for a moment… it would be fine if you stayed here. This place was perfectly equipped, besides… you also wanted to stay with him like this. - "Well… it's okay. But we have to get up early, ok" you look up, seeing how neteyam was giving you a big smile. In one swift movement neteyam, grabs you by the waist and lifts you up to get on top of you. You were all giggles, feeling him start to kiss your neck, and chest. "I'm at your service sweetheart" neteyam says excitedly, lying on top of you letting his head rest on your breasts. Breathing deeply of your scent, wrapping his arms all over your body. Sometimes he could forget that he was almost twice your size, and that lately he had grown muscularly. -"You're crushing me," you tease, feeling him release you. -"I'm sorry" he laughs, kissing your lips one last time before settling back. You were his safe haven in this world.
In the hut…
"Hey, have you seen neteyam?" neytiri asks jake. They had gone to sleep very late, noticing that they had never seen neteyam return. Neteyam was still with them in the family hut, although he could go and do whatever he wanted. Noticing that all the kids had arrived but him. "No, maybe he went off to do something else, or he's with someone else," said Jake, not really paying attention to what he said, he was too busy sharpening his knives. But this made neytiri even more curious and she started to think. Maybe neteyame saw lekka again, and she told neytiri that she hadn't seen him so she wouldn't be embarrassed. Or was neteyam with another girl? Or he was getting tired. Neytiri didn't want to look like a stalker mother, but she had to know what was going on in her eldest son's head.
P.S What do you think of this story? I would like to know what you think. <3
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