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#... like brain hi hello where did all of the words go?
midnightarcheress · 2 days
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another casino thingy with john price, bc why not?
cw: nsfw. masturbation, fingering, implicit exhibitionist price?, f!reader. idk shit about poker. part one | part two
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you go to the casino again. not to gamble though.
at first, you were reluctant on showing up. it was nice of John to give you money for your services that night, and you couldn't deny the instant attraction lingering on your brain, but you didn't want to feel like a token, a four-leaved clover he picked out of the grass. also, you were convinced that your luck was a one-time thing, so why bother trying again? he surely found another charm to put in his pocket by now. 
however, those thoughts vanished from your mind when you heard a sharp knock on your door. 
you look through the peephole and immediately recognize the person standing in your hallway – mohawk guy. how did he...? your first instinct is to ignore him, but curiosity wins the fight against logic and you open the door.
"hello, bonnie." he smiles, "Price's waiting for ye," he blurts out before you can even ask anything. he's waiting?
for a minute, you don't think. your body moves on auto-pilot, scouring your closet for a decent outfit and smoothing down your hair to look at least presentable, as a stranger – Johnny, you learned – paces in your living room. 
the next thing you know, you're in the passenger seat of his car, one hand resting on your leg and thumb edging the hem of your skirt, driving downtown. you couldn't help but shudder at the tingling sensation of his fingers on your skin, and he just snorts at your reaction, amused. are they all this touchy?
thankfully for you, Johnny is a talker, so you don't have to do much work to pass the time. he tells you that John is actually the owner of the casino and that every friday night he hosts a poker game with some of his friends. that he and the boys – Simon and Kyle – help Price with the management and with making sure no one creates trouble, and that John hasn't stopped talking about you.
your eyes widen after his last words, earning a chuckle out of the scot and nearly making you forget the question that first popped into your head when you saw him at your door – how in the hell did he know where i live? but at this point, you're not sure you care. 
the light squeeze on your thigh alerts you that you've arrived, hopping out of the car and walking inside. the place is as packed as ever, but he leads you directly to the back, the same door as before. 
"there she is." John grins, already tapping his lap for you to sit, "now we can start." this time, you don't hesitate, happily obliging to his request even when a part of you cringes at your eagerness. you accept the glass of bourbon, neat, that Kyle hands you, and despite being too strong for your liking, you don't bother. probably tastes like John.
the first few rounds were tame, with low bets, but soon enough you see the flying 5000 chips landing on the table and hear the laughs getting louder, as he traces circles on your hip. you don't know if it's the alcohol coursing in your veins, the softness of his touch, or his hot breath on your ear, but warmth starts pooling in your stomach and your legs clump together to ease the tension.
John notices your squirms and devilishly smirks, enjoying your desperate attempts to forgo the desire building in you. "here, kiss it for good luck, Ace." Ace? his left-hand holds a chip up, as the right one sneaks between your thighs and pry them apart again, making you gasp. 
you timidly lean forward to press a quick kiss on the chip and instantly feel the heat creeping up your cheeks when his hand reaches your underwear. "you're so wet, Ace," he whispers, pulling your damp pants to the side. god, what is he... oh.
you try your best to be calm, not let the sensation of his fingers grazing your folds cloud your mind, but it's too much. your head tips back onto his shoulder, and any word that threatens to come out of your mouth and stop him gets caught in your throat. there's people around. everyone can see how much of a mess you are. and they... don't care?
his thumb gently rubs your clit as his middle finger toy with your entrance in an agonizingly slow manner, soft sighs escaping your mouth and eyes embarrassingly glossy focusing on the table. the game is still going, there's at least eight other men in this room, counting the players and the boys, fuck i'm– you bite back moans, gripping his forearm to keep him in place and to stop yourself from writhing in his lap. 
"easy, love," he murmurs, finally pumping his digit inside you, "such a greedy cunt." his tone is low, syrupy, dripping like honey over you and nearly making you cum at the sound of his voice. you nuzzle your face on his neck, muffling your whimpers and drowning in the scent of his cologne. "what's keepin' me from throwin' you on top of this table and takin' you right now, hm?"
"John–" you breathe out, coil on your belly tightening when he inserts another finger, hitting the spongy spot you were never quite able to reach, making you mewl with pleasure. his beard brushes on your neck and his warm lips trace your jaw, leaving an underlying burning on your skin that drops straight to your core. 
through half-lidded eyes you see the dealer finishing distributing the cards and the subtle twitch in John's mouth when he glances at his hand. your mind is too far gone by the point when they place the bets, too lost in the feeling of his frantic thrusts, velvety walls instinctively clenching around him to enhance the bliss.
the knot inside of you snaps and you cry out, limbs trembling in his hold and pure electricity travelling under your surface; it's intense, ripples through your core, heavenly overstimulating every corner of your body and sending your mind to outer space. 
you float back to earth and taste the metallic flavor in your mouth, bottom lip sore from biting too hard to prevent your screams. John nudges you back to reality with a kiss on your temple, "such a good girl, love." he flaunts his cards in front of your eyes, and after a few attempts to refocus your vision, he gloats, wide smile and lustful eyes directed only at you, "just won me thirty grand, Ace."
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i'd love to write more of this casino universe but i'm very much lacking in the ideas department lol
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alastorss · 2 months
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brother i still have no idea how tumblr works and this is my first request and it might not even be in the right place but—
why does NO ONE talk about the fact that “Allie” would be such a silly nickname for Alastor? i would love to see some headcanons/a lil story about how he would react to the reader calling him that. maybe completely detests it at first but secretly likes it?
a/n: hello lovely, you've come to the right place 🫶 yes yes yes!!! i'm obsessed with this idea <3 i'm adding to this: he would think you're mad at him when you finally call him normally again ^ ^
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"What did you say?"
"Huh?" You hum, attention devoted to fixing Alastor's bowtie.
"That thing you just said. Repeat it."
You finally blink at him, using your palms to smooth out the front of his jacket before stepping out of his bubble. "I said your tie was undone."
"No, dear, before that."
The Radio Demon can feel his eye twitching in irritation. You look at him again dumbly, trying to retrace your steps.
"Oh!" You flash him a little smile and he thinks his brain is going to explode. "Allie?"
He just gawks at you, surprised by the sheer audacity you have. And it doesn't help that he's so fond of you that he doesn't even want to strike you down.
Had it been someone else calling him so endearingly, he might have done something violent. But how could he do that to you, his darling companion, when you look so sweet calling him such a ridiculous name?
"My apologies but... where did that come from?"
"Isn't it cute?" You grin, completely dodging his question.
No, he wants to say. Absolutely not. However, your smile is ever-growing and he can't very well deny you this pleasure. So he sucks it up, draws in a deep inhale to compose himself, and nods.
"Of course, cher."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Weeks pass and the rest of your friends in the hotel begin to raise a brow at how casually you address such a powerful Overlord. And more than that, he doesn't seem to want to correct you.
It becomes his name reserved exclusively for you. Angel had tried, once, to purr out Allie in a seductive way that made Alastor's skin crawl. Never again.
He gets used to it. Even likes the idea that there is something shared between you that no one else can have. That is, until you're pushing around your breakfast on a plate one morning.
"Can you pass the salt, Alastor?"
He looks up from his mug of coffee in confusion, brain taking a moment to buffer before it catches up with his already moving mouth.
"Alastor?" He repeats his own name, staring at you intensely and most definitely not passing the salt over the table.
You look back up at him blankly. "That's your name, don't wear it out."
He scoffs at your lame joke before sliding the salt shaker over the table. There's something unsettling him and he can't quite place it.
Setting down his newspaper, he watches you as you eat. His gaze is so fiery that you look up from your food almost instantly.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?"
Your brows scrunch. "No, why?"
"Why did you not call me Allie?"
Complete and utter silence settles over the dining table until he feels like he can't breathe. Your spoonful of food hovers just in front of your open mouth as you stare.
Then, laughter. Laughter fills the room and his ears so heartily that he feels it in his own chest. You double over the table in your fit, spoon clinking onto the plate as you drop it.
"What?" He grumbles.
"Of course I'm not mad at you!" You howl, using a finger to wipe up the tears gathering in your eyes. "'Sides, I thought you hated that name?"
His jaw grows taut. "Hate is a powerful word."
"So you like it?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Liar, you do!"
Alastor is never one to get flustered, but here he is for the first time in his afterlife, teetering on the edge of bursting out in flames. "You are terrible, you know that?"
You snicker, leg getting trapped between his under the table. "Yeah, Allie, I know."
Yet the way his smile softens says it all.
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc (send an ask to be added!)
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motherlvr · 10 months
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just friends?
she fell first, he fell harder
wc: 2.2k
pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x f! reader
Summary: In the early years of your adolescence, you made the grave mistake of asking Miles to ‘practice kissing’ for future suitors. That mistake would come back to bite you every following day.
Warnings: cursing, childhood friends to lovers, friends that kiss, jealousy, started off the fic with a bang cuz i dont believe in small talk, possessiveness
A/N: what happened to hello? what happened to how are you?
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Your current predicament was straddling Miles' lap as you both kissed like this would be the last time you ever did. His hands grabbed onto your thighs that encased his legs. Pulling away for a second, you watched as a small string of saliva binds both of your lips.
Looking down at him, you asked out of breath, "We're still just friends, right?" The question caught him off guard. But he responds with a teasing smirk, "Yeah, yeah ma. Just friends." You nervously bit your bottom lip, nodding at his response. Wrapping your hands onto his braids, you smashed your lips against his yet again to ignore your conflicted thoughts.
It's times like this when your past mistake comes back to haunt you. And he made sure you never lived it down. The mistake in question was made on the playground with Miles when you were both ten. Being the young and innocent child you were, you proposed to 'practice kissing' for potential lovers in the future. As all kids do. He accepted and it all sprouted from there. You were each other's first kiss.
That first kiss was only one of many to come. You both had urges, after all. Since your younger days, it turned into something a bit more than just practice. But you never gave it a second thought. Until of late. What used to be a silly playground crush on Miles only grew stronger as the years passed by.
In all honesty, you had no clue where you stood with Miles. What were you, friends that kiss periodically? That was how it was, you suppose. But what you did know was that you'd stay by his side no matter the circumstance. Even if it meant that your friendship would never develop into more. Although occasionally you wished you never initiated to 'practice kissing' with him in your naive and prepubescent years. That would solve your problem at its roots and prevent the rapidly growing feelings you had for him. It was no doubt a mistake in your mind.
Separating your lips for a second time, you pulled away again. He stared at you in confusion. You looked frantic, "Shit, what time is it?" Glancing at the time on your phone, you cursed. It was 3:30 pm. "Fuck, I have a date at four o'clock. I gotta go, Miles." You jumped off of Miles' lap on his bed and swiftly started packing up your things.
Miles felt jealousy start to boil within his stomach as his lap felt empty. He was right here, why would you need to go on a date with some other guy? Furrowing his brows, he irritably questioned, "Fuck you mean you gotta date? With who?" He tried to conceal his annoyance but failed miserably.
"Some guy from my physics class asked me out, sorry but I gotta go." Grabbing your bag, you pecked his cheek lightly as a goodbye. Glancing in his mirror one last time, you tamed any stray strands of hair.
Your response only fueled his jealousy, "Do you even know his name?" He started interrogating you.
"Of course I do, it's..." You paused for a second to think, and your conclusion was unclear. Your mind was foggy. "I think it's Javi? Or maybe Jake? Jacob? Shit, I think you kissed the thoughts right out of my brain." You rambled. Your words made him crack a slight smirk, and he said, "Nah, you ain't going on that date ma." pulling you back into his hold by your hips.
"I can't just stand him up, Miles." You told him, starting to regret agreeing on going on the date. "I could take you on a better date than he can, mami." He suggested.
He was full of surprises this afternoon. Usually, he didn't display such possessiveness. You didn't even like the supposed guy you were going on a date with. You just thought he could help you get your mind off of Miles for a few minutes.
Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Is that an offer?" "It's a promise." He responded without an ounce of hesitation. The way he was staring at you almost made you take him up on it. "Tempting, but I'll have to take a rain check. See you tomorrow. Alright, Miles?" You waved goodbye and walked out his door.
"'Ight, ma. See you." He gave up. As he watched you walk out the door of his room, he groaned in frustration.
The unfortunate recipient of his frustrations was a punching bag in his Uncle Aaron's apartment. Striking the bag with all the force he could muster, the punching bag rumbled on the chain it was strung upon. His knuckles were slowly getting bloodier with each hit, but he couldn't feel it. He could only feel you. It was the only thing he wanted to feel, anyway.
His Uncle inevitably noticed his behavior. Cleaning off one last knife, he set it down and walked towards his nephew. He held the punching bag steady and questioned him, "What's up with you, man?"
Continuing to throw punches at the unsuspecting punching bag, he responded sharply. "It's nothin'. Just my girl going on a date with some other guy." His nostrils flared slightly.
With those two sentences, his Uncle understood his sour mood. "That doesn't sound like nothing. And you just let her? I don't think you're my nephew, man." Shrugging, Miles took a quick water break. Taking a long swig of water, he replied, "You know her, she's stubborn." He had introduced you to his Uncle a while back. His whole family knew you, in fact. Every time he went back home, his mother asked about you. How you are, and when he’s going to tell you how he feels. It seemed everyone knew. Except you.
"Hey. If you want this girl, you gotta show her before someone else does." His Uncle wisely told him. Miles stopped hitting the punching bag and started wrapping his bloodied knuckles in bandages.
Those words stuck with Miles for the rest of the night as he made his way back to his dorm.
Laying on the bed of his dorm, Miles stayed up thinking about what his Uncle told him. His dorm felt empty without you there, he realized.
The next afternoon in his dorm again, you laid on your stomach on his bed, kicking your feet in the air. You frequented his dorm so often that you were more of a roommate to him than his actual one. Glancing at Miles, you noticed the bandages on his knuckles. “Ay, Miles. What happened?” You asked him, taking his hand into yours to inspect it. He disregarded it, "Don’t worry 'bout it.” He continued, addressing the elephant in the room. “How was your date with Javi, Jake, or Jacob?"
You casually respond, "Actually, his name was Jason. And it was fine, I suppose. Although I called him by the wrong name a few times until he corrected me." You mumbled the last part, embarrassed. Not to mention, you almost called him by Miles' name. Not just once but multiple times.
"Just fine, huh?" He replied, intrigued. And slightly satisfied that you didn't have too good of a time.
"Yeah. I mean, he tried kissing me by the end. But his breath reeked of garlic, so I looked the other way and pretended I didn't notice." You said with a grimace, pretending to get flashbacks. In reality, Miles ruined kissing for you. You couldn't stop seeing Miles' face as your date was leaning into you. He wasn't him.
Stifling a laugh, he grinned at you. "So, that mean you wanna take me up on my offer?" You whipped your head to him in surprise as you said, "You were serious about that? I mean, I'm down." Friends go on dates, don't they? You thought to yourself.
Nodding his head, he said, "I made a promise, ma." He started to stand up, gently grabbing your hand to pull you up with him. Locking your hand onto his arm, he led you out of campus.
Miles brought you to an endearing cafe only a few blocks away from the campus. A diamond in the rough, you thought. As you both sat down across from each other, you felt your nerves spiking.
Truth be told, he still made you nervous at times. Although you've undoubtedly been friends with him for longer than either of you could remember. The both of you ordered food and you started to speak, "So, you take all your girls here, Miles?" Putting on a calm facade, you teased him. You were glad he couldn't see your leg bouncing with anxiousness underneath the table.
He let out a slight puff at you, "What girls? Solo eres tú, mami. You know that." Your heart fluttered slightly at his words. Widening your eyes, you murmured, "I didn't know that, actually." You cleared your throat and enunciated, "How'd you find out about this place then?" Your voice piqued with interest. You didn't believe he would frequent this cute cafe in his spare time. It wasn't exactly his scene, so to say.
"This is where my dad took my ma on their first date." He said with an unusually soft tone, staring into your eyes for your reaction. You would never guess it, but he saw a future with you. Ever since that day on the playground, he knew it was real. His affection for you never dimmed since then.
As you both locked eyes, you realized then that he took you to a place that was sentimental to him and his family. This cafe was where his parent’s story first started. All of a sudden, this date felt a bit more serious than he had originally let on.
Under his stare, you felt your face go warm, "That's beautiful, Miles." After a few moments, you continued, "I suddenly feel like I'm intruding, though." His response came quick, "Never, mami. What makes you say that?" You confessed the thoughts that swarmed your brain right when you walked into the cafe, "I mean, this place feels a bit intimate for people that are 'just friends'" You said with air quotations.
"I think we're past that stage. Don't you, princesa?" You nodded at him. He was right, you thought. After all, friends don't usually have an oral fixation for their friend's mouth.
Your orders came at the same time. You both comfortably conversed. It was a nice change of pace after your date from yesterday. After you both ate your orders and paid, Miles and you walked down the street with his fingers settling on your waist. You spoke up, "Thanks for bringing me here today, Miles. I had a good time with you." You wanted nothing more than to reach up and kiss him til he couldn't breathe, but resisted.
"Anytime. If it meant you'd stop going on dates with other guys." He said casually, but his grip firmed on your waist. Your head turned to him at his words. After your date with Miles, you were sure he ruined dates for you as well. Just like he ruined your ability to kiss anyone else. "Yeah, I'm not even sure I'll want to go on a date with anyone else after this." You said under your breath. He silently grinned.
As you both made your way back to Miles' dorm, the urge to brush your lips against his only became stronger. You could tell he felt it, too. You noticed how he walked a bit faster to go back to his dorm.
Once the door to his room opened, you gave in to your desires and pulled him in by his hoodie to connect your lips. He backed you against his door as his hands traveled all over your body like it was a new territory he was unfamiliar with. He couldn't get enough of you. Groaning into your mouth, he deepened the kiss impossibly more. You both parted for a moment to get a quick breath of air.
Staring into his eyes, you told him before you lost the courage, "I don't want to be just friends. Friends that kiss sometimes when they feel like it." He looked at you like you just told him he won the lottery. In his eyes, this scenario was better than winning the lottery. He grinned as he kissed you again. Full of heat, his kiss spoke louder than words. "Then why don't we be lovers that kiss?” He pulled away to whisper against your lips. “Yeah, I think I like that idea.” You smiled against his lips.
That kiss from yesterday would be the last kiss you shared. As friends, that is. And this would be your first kiss as lovers. From the very first chapter of your life, he was there. And to the present-day chapter of your life, he's still here with you. In the end, It'll always be him and you.
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solo eres tú - it’s only you
princesa - princess
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
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relax
in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment
18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!
You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 
“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 
“Hello to you too...” 
“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 
“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 
“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  
“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 
“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 
“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 
“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  
“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 
“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 
“I’m literally offering to help you.” 
“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 
Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  
“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 
“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 
“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  
The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  
“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 
You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  
But the essay... 
“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 
“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 
“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 
“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  
Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  
“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 
Oh? 
One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 
“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 
“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 
“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 
Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?
You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 
“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  
“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...
“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 
“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 
“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 
“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 
“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 
Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 
Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 
“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 
But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  
An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 
You flush. 
“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  
Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  
“I made you cum three times, right?” 
“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 
“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 
You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 
“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 
You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  
“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  
He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 
“Who’s that for?” 
“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  
Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 
“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 
Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 
“Look at that,” he breathes. 
“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 
Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  
“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 
“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 
“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  
You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 
“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 
“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 
“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 
“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 
“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 
“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 
You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  
“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 
A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 
The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  
“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 
His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  
Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 
“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 
Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 
A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 
Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 
“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 
“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 
You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  
“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  
“Feel better?” 
You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 
“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 
You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 
“What kind of tears?” 
“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 
“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 
Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 
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juneberrie · 11 months
Text
in person ✮ EARTH-42!MILES MORALES X FEM!READER
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summary miles flew across the country to tell you something, because it absolutely had to be in person.
author's note THIS IS 100% BASED ON THE NHIE BENVI WEDDING CONFESSION SCENE
word count 0.6k
warnings fem!reader, written w e42!miles in mind but really it could be 1610 too, petnames (mostly mami 😊), reader is wearing a dress
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miles was here. here. at your friend's aunt's wedding. how did he even know where to go? wasn't he in california for some internship? all these questions whirled through your mind as his eyes searched the room for you.
you get up from the table you're sitting at with your friends, eyes locked on miles.
"where're you going, y/n?" one of your friends asks. you shrug them off and walk towards miles.
when you finally reach him, his face lights up in a smile.
"hi," he starts, but you cut him off, gesturing with your hand for him to stop.
"what are you doing here?" you ask. he looks ridiculously out of place at the fancy wedding. you two must look like clowns, seeing as you were wearing a dress that must've been sent down from heaven, compared to miles' sweats and a hoodie. "aren't you supposed to be in california?"
he looks taken aback, but the smile remains on his face when he replies. "great to see you too," he laughs. "i just.. i wanted to tell you something."
"and you flew across the country to tell me? you are aware that you could've just texted me, right?"
he sighs and a hand flies up to rub the back of his neck. "i know, but, listen, mami. i needed to tell you in person."
you cross your arms. "then what is it, miles? what was just so incredibly important that you flew all the way from california to tell me?" its not that you were annoyed with him, its just that, he was your friend, yeah, but things had been awkward ever since you two had, uh, done more than kissed last summer. and then, oh. and then, he ignored you, like a douche bag.
"i... i really like you, y/n," he said, looking at the floor, at the lights, at anywhere but you.
woah. not mami, not babe, but y/n? he must be serious.
you let out a short laugh. his head snaps up. "you know, this is dumb." he throws his hands in the air and turns to go. "it was dumb to come he-"
you grab him by the shoulders and spin him back around. "i like you too. god, miles, i really like you," you tell him, grinning.
he looks into your eyes, hopeful. "like, for real? because now that i think about it..." he trails off, glancing at your lips.
"what? do i have crumbs on my face or something?" you say, unconsciously reaching up to wipe at your face.
"no, no," he laughs, grabbing your hand. he brings it to his lips and presses a quick kiss to your palm. "i was going to say, now that i think about it, i love you."
your brain short circuits. miles stares hopefully at you, a rare smile on his face.
"uh? hello? y/n? anyone there?" he waves a hand in your face and you blink.
"shit, no. WAIT, not no to you, just. oh my god, miles," you ramble. he's still staring, the smile starting to fade off his face. "I LOVE YOU TOO," you say. it feels like you're yelling it.
he grins. "for- for real?" he asks, bringing a hand to your waist and pulling you closer.
"for real, miles," you reply. his grin grows exponentially and pulls you in for a long awaited kiss. you hear your friends whoop behind you and you flip them off, laughing into the kiss. you love miles morales, and he loves you.
"you know, i'm glad you came to tell me in person," you say when you pull away.
"i'm glad too, mami."
3K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
Text
in the middle of nowhere.
ln x fem!reader
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in which you get the wrong idea in the middle of nowhere, so lando finally pops the question.
hello again! two fics in three days, unhinged jas is back 🤭 right so anyways, here you go! i love this concept so much and i hope you do too, lemme know what you think!
this can absolutely count as part two to everything if you want it to!
songs to set the mood: green eyes::siena by nothing but thieves, fearless by taylor swift, white ferrari by frank ocean, to love by suki waterhouse
warnings: 18+ minors dni! smut, angst for a sec, fluff, bit of choking, reader being stupid, lando also being stupid, then being so sickeningly in love, car sex hehe
2.1k words
the proposal
lando could see it now, the picture clear in his mind. the lines of your dress, clean and white. a veil that flowed, lacy and intricate. your eyes meeting his as you ascended towards him, ready to be bound together in life and love by two silver bands.
all you had to do was say yes. all he had to do was ask.
it was simple enough, getting down on one knee, bowing down before the woman he cherished with everything he had. the planning, however, that went into asking the question was eating him alive.
lando thought that he’d nailed it, finally landing on that one big idea that you’d remember for the rest of your lives. the perfect moment where he’d pledge to be yours forever.
little did he know that while the preparation was killing him slowly, it was also killing you.
-
the car ride was quiet.
lando tried to remain neutral, hiding his nerves and excitement. today was the day, you were en route to a small vineyard in the south of france. the drive from your monaco apartment wasn’t too far, but it was long enough for the pair of you to slip into silence. lando perceived it to be comfortable, glancing at you every now and then, noticing how you were taking in the countryside.
he tried not to concern himself over the way you were fiddling with your hair, chewing at your fingernails. you didn’t seem to notice the way he was watching you, eyes flirting between where you sat and the road ahead. he was more concerned by the dark cloud gathering ahead, but found some hope in the way the sunlight broke through, casting beams of light every which way.
the road was dead, not another car for miles. lando felt like you were the only two people in the world, manoeuvring the vintage lamborghini through the winding lanes, the overhanging trees casting curious shadows. it felt like a fairytale, until, of course, it didn’t.
“do you still love me, lando?” you choked out, finally turning to look at him.
lando slammed the brakes, hard. the way they screeched in protest told him that he’d be dropping a large sum into his mechanics bank account, but he couldn’t find an ounce of care, not when the woman he adored was asking such gut wrenching questions.
“what?” lando spat, delirious with confusion. his eyes were wide, wild with fear. “i- what?” he repeated himself, heart beating dangerously fast, and not in the usual way it did when you spoke.
“you just… are you breaking up with me?” your eyes were brimming with tears, lip quivering ever so slightly, but you stayed strong.
“are you serious?” lando was bewildered. “why would you think that?” he was wracking his brain for anything he’d done wrong.
“you’ve been so distant, at first i thought- well i don’t know what i thought, i just feel like you’re slipping away from me.” you sounded like the shell of your usual self, distraught in the face of it all ending. lando was too.
“baby, i’m so sorry. you’ve got it all wrong, i promise.” lando turned in his seat towards you, quickly checking his mirror as he did, safety first. he grabbed your hands, eyes meeting yours as he tried to convey reassurance.
“why have you been like this, then? have i done something wrong?” and so the troubleshooting began.
lando clenched his teeth, wondering how on earth he could explain his way out of this one without completely letting the cat out of the bag. it seemed that while he was planning perfection, he’d been neglecting you and he felt painfully stupid.
“i can’t… well, i can’t say.” lando replied, voice laced with hesitation. you frowned at his lack of explanation, head tilted in confusion.
“you can’t say? well that’s reassuring.” you bit back sarcastically. “if you don’t want me anymore, i’d rather you just tell me now.”
lando couldn’t believe what he was hearing. three years. three years you’d been together, and he was sure he’d loved you even longer. he was shocked that you thought that low of him, that he’d treat you so poorly, stringing you along. he could admit to himself that he’d made a bit of a mess of this, but he couldn’t accept that you thought he didn’t love you.
lando lived and breathed you.
“are you serious? you think i don’t want you?” his mind was moving a million miles an hour, and it spurred him on to make his next move. “get out the car.”
lando swung his door open, bounding round the door to open your door. there was a little velvet box burning a hole in his pocket, and he could feel it getting hotter with every stride he took. you stared at him dumbfounded when he took your hand, pulling you out of the car and into the road. you glanced around nervously, making sure you weren’t about to cause a car crash, but the coast was clear.
he pulled you into his chest, holding you close, eyes fixed on yours, his own a little teary now.
“you think i don’t want you? god.” lando sighed, shaking his head. one of his hands snaked down to his pocket. “you are the only person i will ever want. i didn’t want to do this here, had a whole plan and everything, but that means nothing to me if the woman i love thinks i don’t want her.”
his little speech had knocked the air out of you, and as he sunk down onto one knee, the colours of the sun hitting him so beautifully, you realised just how wrong you had been.
“baby, from the moment i met you, i knew. i knew you were gonna be my person, i just didn’t even imagine that you’d feel the same way. these years with you have been the best fucking years of my life, and i knew from the beginning that i wanted you by my side through it all.”
he was grinning up at you, a ball of nerves and curls, a few tears falling. you were a river, weeping over him, one hand clutching over your heart, the other fallen to your side.
“maybe i got it wrong, and i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry. but i’m asking what i’ve wanted to ask for a ridiculously long time.” lando breathed. “will you marry me?”
you blinked, once, twice, choking out breaths between sobs. you dragged him up from the ground, kissing him with everything you had left. it was passionate, heavy with pent up emotion, and you never wanted to let him go. you cupped his face, keeping you together when you broke apart.
“yes, lando.” you whispered. “of course.” he slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect, effortless fit, and then you were kissing him again, as close as could be, his hands all over you.
that’s when you felt the first drops of rain, the clouds finally breaking, just as they’d been threatening to all day.
“oh, fuck.” lando muttered, ready to pull you back to the car, but you wanted this moment to last.
“it doesn’t matter.” you said, letting the droplets coat your flushed skin. lando just smiled, relief washing over him like the rain.
you were engaged. fuck the rain.
and so, there you were, getting your very own movie moment, kissing in the rain with the love of your life, your fiancé, the man you would spend the rest of your life with. the sun still broke through the clouds, bathing you in light as the rain splattered against the damp ground. the leaves of the trees seemed to glisten, water droplets casting twinkles like fairy lights all around you. somehow, after everything, it was perfect. more perfect that anything you could have asked for, and, as bittersweet as it was to admit it, better than anything lando could have planned.
you threw your head back, staring up at the sky. lando leant forward, kissing over your exposed neck, and you hummed in delight. his lips worked their way up until they were ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“i love you. i will always love you.” lando whispered, and you melted into his hands that had a firm grip on your waist.
you shared a look, every worry dissipated, and you saw your life together, right there in his eyes. a flower littered aisle, him in a sleek black suit, his eyes meeting yours from the other side of the room. and then he was kissing you again and you felt the cool, damp metal of his car against your skin. your mind was full of houses in the country, white bedsheets, children playing in a garden. dinners by a fireplace and maybe a dog. but everything you saw slipped away until the only thing that remained was lando, right here, right now.
he was all over you, wet curls trickling cold water over you, sending a shiver down your spine. you grabbed at his shoulders, pulling at his soaked shirt, the white material translucent from the weather. it clung to him deliciously as you ran your hands over the linen.
“get in the car.” he groaned, sliding the material of your skirt up your legs. you complied instantly, turning to climb into your seat, when he stopped you. “no, honey. on my lap.” he smiled mischievously as he slid into the passenger seat and you quickly followed clambering onto his lap.
lando pulled your left hand up, so that it was resting over his heart. you finally had a chance to properly take in the ring, breathtaking as it was. it was an emerald cut diamond, simple yet elegant, exactly what you’d always envisioned.
“you see that? every time you look at this ring i want you to remember that i will always be yours. okay?” his voice had dropped, making the moment you were in even more intimate.
“okay.” you whispered, and his hand trailed lower, slipping under the hem of your ridden up dress. the other went to your neck, fingers gripping softly at the base of your throat.
“you thought i didn’t want you?” his grip tightened, your eyes wide in awe, fixed on his, murky blue green waters turned dark. “silly girl.” and then his other hand found your underwear, tugging it to the side.
lando moaned when he felt how wet you were, dripping all over his fingers, nice and ready for him. he worked through your folds, applying a firm, slow pressure to your clit. your mouth hung open, eyes fluttering shut from the pleasure, but the way his hand closed around your neck had you staring back at him again.
“i need you.” you whimpered, your own smaller hands gripping at his wrist, pushing him further into your delicate neck, rolling your hips against where his hand worked against your soft flesh.
“don’t doubt me anymore, do you? not when i’m the only one who can make you feel like this?” lando teased, and your stomach tightened, clamping down on the two fingers he’d slipped inside you.
“no,” you whined. “only you, lando.” and that was enough convincing for him.
he held you up, just enough to free himself from his jeans and boxers, and you gripped his shoulders, clawing at him as you sunk down on his length. the rain fell harder, condensation gathering on the windows as you ground down on him, meeting his thrusts. tears pricked your eyes; he felt so good, fit you like a missing puzzle piece, and you’d doubted him. you knew, in that moment, that you’d never do such a thing again.
moans were shared between you in unison, your foreheads pressed together as you both got closer and closer, the tight space intensifying the desperation to meet your end. his hands were firm on your hips, his body tight underneath your hands. you couldn’t keep the pace, thighs aching where you were straddling him, and he quickly took charge. your head fell to his shoulder, panting into his ear as he gave you everything, putting everything he had into the final few thrusts.
you laid against his chest in silence after, the sunset casting pinks and purples over the car. you grinned lazily, exhausted, your heart fuller than ever before.
“i’m sorry i doubted you.” you mumbled into his neck, nosing at his stubbled jaw.
“i’m sorry i made you doubt me.” he responded, stroking your hair, squeezing you tighter for a second.
“i can’t wait to marry you, lando.” you kissed his jaw, sitting up to smile at him. your hands looped around his neck, twisting his curls around your fingers.
“my wife.” lando chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “let’s get you home, hm?”
“please.” you crooned. “i’m sure you need to tell max that you finally asked me, huh?”
“you know me too well.”
-
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removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed
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2K notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 5 months
Text
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SWEET LIKE SUGAR | (05)
summary; azriel is away on a mission, and you get an unexpected visitor. when he returns, you also get an unexpected surprise.
word count; 5988
notes; fun fact!! I got confused about which part I was on because I actually forgot all about the events of this part and started writing for part six before realising!! also the way this is months late... my bad, y’all. 
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Slumping a little further in the plush seat, your eyes scanned across the page before you for the fourth time. Finally, you’d settled on a book, after procrastinating it all morning. Then, you’d put it off with the excuse of cooking breakfast and eating, making a cup of tea… and then another. 
The house felt too big, too quiet, too light without shadows crawling in every corner. 
Azriel had been gone since yesterday morning, your first overnight alone without him as he did Cauldron knew what, Cauldron knows where, out in the world. He’d left early yesterday morning while you had still been asleep, waking you with a hand shaking your shoulder gently before the sun had even risen. Dressed in those same dark leathers, strapped head-to-toe with weapons, he’d mumbled about some sudden work from Rhys, and that explanation, along with a delicate kiss on your forehead, had been all you’d gotten. 
It had half felt like some kind of odd dream, until you’d woken up, and the house had been far too still without his presence. 
He was due back tonight, and you were holding onto that, attempting to focus back on your book. Three hours. Only forty pages in. 
You’d hardly made it two more pages, before there were footsteps on the creaky porch, your heart rate shooting through the roof, and a knock. A knock. Azriel wouldn't knock on his own front door. Matter of fact, Azriel would have likely just winnowed right to the door, not walked up the porch. 
On light steps, hoping whoever was on the other side couldn't hear you, you peeked up through the hole in the door, noting Elain standing on the other side. You barely knew her, recognising her only from the first dinner you’d shared with Azriel’s family, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of her. 
Clicking the door open after only a second or two of hesitation, she offered a beaming smile when your eyes met. 
“Hello, Elain.”
“You remember my name!” Her smile somehow only stretched wider, and it was like the sun itself seemed to get brighter as she did. You wanted to scoff. Did it just do that, or was Lucien out there somewhere, glowing every time she smiled? 
“Uh… Azriel isn’t here.”
“I know.” She waved a hand, as though that was supposed to be obvious in some way, following it up with a giggle. You wracked your brain, stumbling over every piece of information Azriel had given you on them all over the last couple of weeks. Seer. Elain was a seer. Had she seen Azriel leave and chosen this moment to approach you? “I’m here to see you.”
Apparently so. “Why?”
“I was thinking we could go for a walk in the public gardens together.”
“Why?” The word spilt out again, and she laughed, cocking her head to the side. “I’m, sorry, I don’t— I don’t mean to sound so rude. This situation is just unexpected, that’s all.”
“I know. I would have come sooner, but I was waiting for Azriel to be gone because he’s been playing defence about who gets to see you and when. He growled at Rhysand last week for asking how things were going.” Your stomach flipped at that, flopping in on itself and you rubbed a hand over your ribs slowly, hoping to steady the beating of your heart. “I’m not here for Rhysand, just to be clear. I’m not here for anyone, not even Az. I’m here for me, because I’d like to get to know you.”
“You want to get to know me?”
“Of course. You’re going to be around for a while—”
“I am?” She merely hummed, brows raising a little as humour shone in those doe-eyes, and your cheeks heated. “Seer, right. Of course. Do you want to come in for lunch or something, then?”
“I was thinking we could go for a picnic.” Nudging one delicately slippered foot out from under the hem of her dress, she nudged a picnic basket at her feet with her toes, and you shifted nervously from foot to foot. “It’s a nice day, and the Velaris Gardens are just beautiful. I volunteer sometimes, and I must say, the flowers this year are breathtaking.”
“Alright,” She was like a puppy, someone you just couldn't say no to when she stared at you with those big brown eyes, only seeming to light up more when you finally agreed. Leaving her standing on the porch for no more than a few minutes, you marked the page in your book, swapped out your loungewear for a summer dress and some sandals, and grabbed your keys. 
She had been right, the two of you were barely more than a few steps down the sidewalks before the golden rays of the sun truly began to soak into your skin, warming you. It was a lovely day. Hopefully, the sun was shining on Azriel too, wherever he was.
The streets of Velaris were crowded as the pair of you ventured closer to the busier parts of the city, your workplace was packed full, the tables outside almost overflowing, and one of the waitresses you’d come to know waved as you passed by, flustered and carrying a tray of drinks. 
Children were playing in the streets, darting from one side to another. Adults were wandering, lovers arm in arms, and friends gossiping. Here you were, wandering alongside Elain, who was humming a tune gently to herself under her breath. Only once you had entered the gardens, the kind old man at the front gate greeting Elain with a smile and a hug, did she speak up once again. 
Her tune came to an end as the two of you were walking down the main pathway, weeping willows curtaining on either side, birds chirping overhead and fluttering between branches in the trees. 
“I'm happy Azriel has you, you know.”
“You might be the only one.” Your words were bitter, harsh, and you wanted to bite them back in, still not entirely sure where you stood with Elain or to what extent you could trust her, but she only laughed again. “Apologies, that was…”
“Don’t worry.” That casual hand wave again, the metal bracelets on her wrist clinking as she did. One held a sun, another with a moon, a third gold band with an orange gem, and a fourth with a metal tag on a leather band, an engraving too small to make out. “Although, it’s not true. Nesta talks very fondly of you, and while Feyre might not speak up as often, she does not approve of the way Rhysand treats you.”
“Nesta is great. I shouldn’t have said that. And of course, I was out of turn to imply anything at all about the High Lord and Lady. I do—”
“Please, none of those formalities.” She stopped suddenly at the end of the pathway, aiming to turn neither left nor right, but instead stepping out onto the large field before you both, wildflowers cropping up, wandering across the soft ground and leaving you to trail through the grass behind her. “Rhysand can be a stubborn arse when he chooses to be, and Cassian is merely being bull-headed. Mor could be a swaying hand if she chose to, but she’s actively staying out of it, to let things play out on their own. Amren is… well, Amren.”
She had managed to coax a laugh from you, despite your wary mood, and she seemed to stand a little taller at the triumph. Finally finding a spot she liked and placing the basket down, Elain opened it up to pull out a blanket, flapping it out into the light breeze and laying it on the ground slowly. She sat on it, patting the space beside her for you to sit on, and opening the basket only when you had. 
“I brought several sandwiches, because I wasn’t sure which you’d enjoy.” She began to unstack each labelled and wrapped meal portion, laying them out around you both until the blanket was covered in food and treats, a wine glass in your hand as Elain filled it with bubbling grape juice. “I try not to drink as much these days.”
It seemed the two of you had moved on from whatever conversation you’d been having, and no matter how much you wanted to circle back around to it, it felt rude to do so when she was clearly leading the chat. She was rubbing a hand over her stomach with contemplation, and you swirled the bubbly drink in your glass. “Are you… are you trying for a baby?”
Her hair glinted in the sun as she tipped her head back, eyes closed and smiling at the sky. “We’re thinking about it. Nothing concrete yet, but, I know Lucien desires children. I do too. We aren’t putting any kind of timeframes on anything, but we’re getting into some good habits and lifestyle changes now.”
“I wish you both the best of luck,” 
She only hummed, again, a contemplative sound that seemed so wrapped up in mysterious and knowledge that it made your skin itch. To distract yourself, you took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning over the food options before you as she sighed and pulled herself back from whatever thoughts she had lost herself in. “My happiness with my mate now is so much due to Azriel.”
It was like a ball, bouncing back and forth between the walls, getting faster and faster as she whipped from the topic of Azriel to anything else, like she couldn't decide between acknowledging the elephant in the room or ignoring it. 
“I’m happy he has you.”
“So you’ve said.” You smirk, settling on a sandwich at last and unwrapping it. 
“There was a while when I thought I might be his happy ending, and he might be mine.” Your chewing slowed, and your focus fixed on her. You weren’t sure why she was saying these things, revealing things about his past or her own, whether it was some kind of game or not. She seemed to read all of this on your face, sitting up more fully to face you, legs crossing before her. “He never fought for me the same way he fights for you, though. Like he can’t help himself. What we had was hidden away and sneaking around in the dark. It was wrong for us both, I see that in hindsight, but with you, he doesn’t hide you. It’s like he wants the whole world to know you’re at his side.”
The food was like trying to swallow a mouthful of cottonwool, choking it down dry and wincing. “I don’t think what we have is the same. What you had must’ve been… well, like a real relationship. You do understand what me and Az have is more like an agreement, right?”
“Are all relationships not just agreements to be together, monogamously?”
You sipped at your drink, buying time to find a reply as she tucked into her own food, surely knowing she’d won this round. “Relationships are different.”
“In what way?”
“In every way!” You said, and she still only managed to look mildly amused, waiting for you to go on. “Relationships shouldn’t start the way ours did, for the intent of mutual benefit and gain. They’re supposed to be about passion and feelings and connection.”
“And do you not have passion, or feelings, for Azriel? Is there no connection?”
“What we have is complicated.” You didn’t know how to define it at all, everything that was shifting and changing so thoroughly was enough to make your head spin, and her mumble only confirmed that she knew she had the upper hand here. “How did Azriel help you to find Lucien if you were… together?”
“Oh, no, we were never together. We snuck around at night and shared heated looks across the dining room table. I wanted to choose my own path for once, not the one everyone was telling me I should be on. The one that led to Lucien. And Azriel, well, he just wanted someone. I wasn’t the right someone, I was just there.” That didn’t answer your question, not at all, but it seemed that if you were going to get the reply you wanted, it was in return for listening to the whole story. “We had stolen moments in dark corners, and Rhysand warned us off one another, put a stop to what likely would have ended in tragedy.”
“Seems like the High Lord is fond of telling Azriel who he can and cannot be with.”
“He had a sister once, you know.” The words struck cold, and you stiffened. Of course, you knew. Everyone in Prythian knew. Had heard of the tragedy before the first war, when the Lord of Night had lost his wife and daughter, leaving only the Prince who would soon take the throne. “She fell in love with someone who she shouldn’t have, someone who betrayed her in the end,”
“Should you be telling me this?”
“—and it broke him for so long. I had no idea about any of this until Feyre told me. He watched his sister get her heart broken before she lost her life, and watched his mate fall for Tamlin and get hurt. He watched Mor hide such an important part of herself and get hurt for centuries. He even watched Lucien pine for me while I was too blind to see him. He has watched love break and harm over the years, watched people abuse those feelings and use them for their own gain. He knows that need for touch more than anyone, and knows the price companionship can cost.”
“Elain,” The food was beginning to taste like ash, this was becoming more of a petition than a chat. “I understand that. I know he’s suffered too, I know he’s felt pain, and I’m sorry for that. But that doesn’t excuse him for his cruelty. It doesn’t excuse him for stopping Azriel from finding happiness. He cannot control everyone around him, no matter whether his intentions are good or not. Other people’s happiness is not his responsibility, and not his right. What, only mates are allowed to be together? Do you know how rare it is to find your mate? Azriel has waited five hundred years, he may never find his mate, but does that mean he should never be allowed to know happiness because Rhysand decrees it?”
She stared at you, lips pursed for a long moment, considering all that you had said. And then, instead of getting angry, or yelling, or defending them further, she smiled. She nodded her head and something passed over her face that you couldn't possibly decipher. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Azriel would have fought for me, if I had asked him to. I’m sure I could have put up a fuss about it, but when he was told to stop, he did. That rejection…”
“Led you to Lucien?”
“Gods, no. It made me so angry. Azriel just rolled over and showed his belly because Rhysand snarled. I was mad, beyond words!” Your laughter broke free, surprising you both, until you were laughing together amongst the flowers. “He would barely look at me, wouldn't talk to me at all if not for polite dinner conversation. I’d gone from someone he’d feel up in dark corners to acting like I had a disease!”
“That’s awful!”
“I know! So, I wanted out. I was so stifled. I managed to persuade Rhysand to send me to the Human Lands for a while, to track down some information. Except, of course, I couldn't go alone. I needed an escort, and who better than the Emissary to the Human Lands?”
“This was Lucien?”
“Mhm.” She rolled her eyes, slipping away into her memories, a smile forming on her face. “Gods, he drove me insane. He was there all the time when I’d just been pulled from the Cauldron, like a lost puppy. So full of adoration and love. I was expecting that, but that’s not the Lucien who showed up. The one who showed up was so… nonchalant. Like the bond between us didn’t exist, we were friends, more like mere partners on a task. I even made a drunken move on him one night in a gross tavern far from The Wall, and he turned me down! Put me to bed and left a glass of water on the nightstand for me. Acted like it never happened in the morning.”
“Oh, Gods…” Your snicker bought you a mock glare from the flowery female beside you.
“I was even angrier, then. It was like nobody wanted me! So, when I returned, I gave Azriel a piece of my mind. And he let me yell at him for twenty minutes. And then awkwardly held me while I cried for another twenty.”
“Does this story have a happy ending? Well, I guess I know it does,” You offered her stomach a pointed look, “But when do we get there?”
“Fine, fine,” She rolled her own eyes now, “To keep it short, Azriel then offered to help me with Lucien. Managed to trick Lucien into going on our first date, a blind-date set-up, and wouldn't let him leave when he tried to. He then continued to help me sneak around with Lucien behind everybody’s backs, until we were ready to come out with it.”
“When was that?”
“Two weeks before we got married.” You fell to your back, laughter like light spilling from you at that, and she continued to share the details of everyone’s reactions through giggles of her own. “I’d seen all their responses, and I wanted to avoid them as long as possible! That was the last time I ignored my visions to try and put them off. What I see will happen, it's only a matter of time. I can’t avoid it.”
“That must suck for surprise parties and gifts.”
“Maybe, but it was pretty good to see you coming.” She smiled, laying herself down beside you and staring up at the sky overhead. “We will be good friends, you and I. I’ve seen that too.”
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You were preparing dinner when you finally heard Azriel arrive. The scuff of his boots on the porch, the rustle of his wings as he entered the house, and then—
Then the slam of the front door. So loud and violent that the house shook a little, trembling the trinkets in the hall that sat on the side unit. You tensed, hearing his loud huff of frustration. Shadows whipped and whirled through the house, a few even making it as far as you were in the kitchen, and you followed them, peeping around the threshold before they were all snapped back in a hurry to their owner. 
You saw his retreating back, stomping up the stairs of the house, tense lines and rigid muscles, disappearing in a dark cloud from sight. Another slam made you jump, one of the upstairs doors closing with a bang. 
Silence filled the house once again, far heavier and more tense than it previously had been, and you worried your lower lip between your teeth. 
It didn't feel like you were welcome, like perhaps this was a moment you shouldn't intrude on. But, was this not part of the reason that Azriel had brought you here in the first place? To comfort him, and be his support?
Minutes ticked by as you contemplated the matter, before deciding that at least checking in on him couldn't hurt. If he wanted alone time, he’d say that, and you’d happily give it to him. The idea of leaving him alone in his suffering created a phantom pain in your chest, spurring you up the stairs and on a search for him. 
He wasn’t hard to find, darkness flicking around the doorway of the office, idle shadows striking like dark lightning bolts in the air as you opened the door, only to find Azriel hunched over his desk, wings tense behind his body. 
“Hi, Az. It’s good to have you home.”
He only murmured, a vague noise, not even lifting his head from his work as you stood in the doorway. You paced a little further inside, standing by his desk, hoping to catch a glance of those pretty caramel eyes, but he kept his head down. His pen never stopped moving across the paper, his shadows never stopped their stormy swirling. 
“I’m going to start making dinner soon, if you want to come down?” He didn’t reply, just a grunt, and you gave up, despite the worry filling you from head to toe. “Alright, well, you know where to find me.”
With that, you left, a pulse of power following you from the room within as soon as you clicked the door shut, back pressed to the wood on the other side. With a couple of deep breaths, you steadied yourself. It was only a matter of time before something came up, everything had been going too smoothly, too perfectly to last. Azriel was bound to snap under all that pressure at some point, and if this was that snap, you could handle it. 
Setting a chicken off to roast only took a couple of minutes, basted and seasoned and into the oven, enough of a distraction to pull your thoughts away from the warrior upstairs. It was as you were chopping vegetables that your mind wandered back, the mind-numbing task of slicing peppers and carrots made it easy for your thoughts to trail back to Azriel.
Still, he had not emerged. Not for food, or water, or even some space from that office. 
Setting the table didn’t help to distract you either, laying down plates and cutlery and glasses, choosing a bottle of wine and setting it out to air, even going so far as to set down some candles, searching for matches to light them. The house was all but vibrating with power not, steady thumps that occasionally jostled the cutlery on the table with powerful bursts. 
Whatever had happened today had Azriel so riled up that his power was all but leaking out, siphons doing little to control the feelings welling inside him now. You’d never known the true strength of his power. Of course, you’d heard of the High Lord’s brothers, the spymaster and the warlord, the three champions of a lethal death-match among young soldiers, who’d come out bonded stronger than ever, with power to match. 
Never, though, did you expect to feel the power like this. Feel his emotions ricocheting off of every wall, bouncing through the foundations of the house. Suddenly, it dawned on you just how mighty the ranks of the Night Court truly were, a chill settling into your bones at the thought.
One bad mod, one temper tantrum, and the building could simply crumble to dust. Street lamps would flicker, and animals would scatter. Too many thoughts, too much and all of it became overwhelming as the house continued to tremble to the steady pattern of a heartbeat. 
Blowing out the candles as the flames flickered precariously once again, you put them away, not daring to risk them tipping over and creating a far worse problem. You knew the scars on Azriel’s hands, he’d told you the story behind them on one of the many nights the two of you had lay in bed, wrapped in one another’s arms, seeking comfort. 
Or perhaps, it had been during stolen moments in the café, when Azriel would come to visit you, sitting and doing his work at one of the tables in the back. He’d take a break only when you’d bring him a fresh pot of tea and a pastry, sit across his lap and talk in hushed whispers during the quieter parts of your shifts before you had to get back to work. 
It could even have been one of your late-night walks, or early-morning strolls, while the streets of Velaris were quiet and mist-kissed. Your hands clasped together tightly, his wing shielding around you as you walked together, talking of everything and anything that came to mind. 
He’d told you quiet stories of his past, of his present, of his hopes for the future. All about little baby Nyx, Nesta and her journey to finding the Valkyries, what it had been like growing up in the camps, or all the best little villages and towns he’d visited on his worldly travels. 
Your heart had been doing crazy things, lately. Crazy, stupid things, like skipping a beat and speeding up and bursting with adoration for a man so new to your life. It did crazy things, like encourage you back up the stairs an hour later, to ignore the tremble in your hands or the wobble in your step, heart calling out to him. 
You’d tried to ignore the urge. To sit and read your book, until you’d read the same line over and over while not absorbing a single word, and giving up with a frustrated huff. You re-basted the chicken, and added the vegetables to cook, and even set off some potatoes to boil but all the while, as your body worked, your mind and heart lay with him. 
This time, you knocked as you entered, knuckles a soft rap on the door before you pushed it open. Magic thrummed through the air, calling you closer and pushing you away, and you found Azriel, still in the same uncomfortable position, working at his desk. His shoulders were locked and rigid, his head hung, hair messy from constant tangling, and you lifted a hand, brushing it slowly through his hair. 
“Azriel…”
He barely even acknowledged you, nothing more than a grunt tossed in your direction as you stood by his side, and a sigh broke free from you. His lips were turned down in a frown, dragging all of his pretty features into misery too, and you hated to see this side of him. Hooking your fingers under his chin, his writing came to a stop as you forced his head to turn, to look up at you. His eyes were dull, a spark of irritation and anger bursting through them as recognition and consciousness flashed back into his lifeless form. 
“Azriel.”
This time, a growl tore free, that frown becoming a snarl as he pulled back, gaze narrowing a little. “I’m fucking working. What do you want?”
You froze, staring at him, taking in the exhaustion under his eyes, the pain in his stance, the spinning thoughts you could practically see surrounding him, so much so it must be dizzying and painful. Dropping your hand back to your side, he only returned to work, not sparing you another thought as he chased to catch up with the ones already running him ragged in his head. 
Silently walking away, you left his door open, hurrying away from the scene and back to the kitchen. Taking the kettle in trembling hands and filling it up, you set that to boil too, a mug from the cupboard clacking as you set it down on the counter, throwing open the doors to the tea cupboard soon after. 
Your nervous fingers skimmed across the labels, searching the front of each one, and it was as you were holding two, undecided on which to choose— perhaps just brew them together?— that the air in the room shifted, and a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, tugging you back into a solid chest. 
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, face tucking into the crook of your neck, where he left a kiss to your skin. His hold tightened, squeezing you against his body as he slumped down into you. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Az.” You ran a hand along his forearm, banded around your body, feeling it loosen just a fraction as you squeezed. “I’m just so worried about you, I wanted to make you some tea to help, but I couldn't decide which one.”
At that, a whine slipped free from him, nuzzling deeper into your neck, another kiss, and another. Putting down the teas on the counter, you wiggled a little, managing to get him to loosen up just enough to turn in his arms. His forehead came to rest on your own, noses brushing, a sad frown on his lips as his eyes remained closed. 
“Az…”
“No more work. If I’m stressed to the point of snapping at you, then it’s too much. I’m sorry. You were just trying to help, and clearly, I needed the help.”
Looping your arms around his neck, he sighed, a happier sound as you scratched at the nape of his neck soothingly. “Stop apologising, Azriel. I appreciate it, but it’s unnecessary. I’m not angry at you, just concerned.”
“I like that you worry about me.” He whispered, deep voice running like honey as he bent enough to pick you up behind the backs of your legs, spinning you to place you onto the kitchen counter, and step comfortably between your thighs. “But you don’t deserve that kind of treatment. You deserve better. I don’t deserve you, but I don’t want to let you go.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Az. I wouldn't be in this relationship if I was going to run. I can handle you, even when you’re not at your best.”
He only answered with a shaky laugh, hands smoothing up your thighs to sit on your hips, squeezing in a series of happy pulses. “We’re in a relationship?”
Elation was clear on his face, no denying it, at your choice of words, and you gave a little chuckle of your own, nodding against him as your noses came back to brushing together, heads resting on one another. Your conversation with Elain flickered through your mind once again, and you wondered if she had seen this, seen you give into her whims and silently admit she was right. If she’d seen this, you hope she picked up on your mental scowl, too. “Well, what would you call what we have?”
“I like ‘relationship’. I like it a lot, actually.”
Throwing your arms over his shoulders, they looped around his neck, and you pushed your face up a little closer to him. “We may not be conventional, Az, but I like what we have. I like our relationship. I think we’re perfect as we are.”
He didn’t need words to respond, not this time, not as his mouth sealed over your own in a gentle, tender kiss. The first kiss you’d ever shared, a timid one, his lips working slowly and cautiously over yours, giving you plenty of time to pull away. 
You didn’t want to, kissing him back with just as much tenderness and affection as he was showing you, pouring every feeling you had into it, to make sure he knew just how much you cared. Your heart was beating hard, fast, racing like a drum under your ribcage as you melted into his touch. One scarred hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb smoothing across your skin, in tandem with every stroke of his lips. 
You pulled back for breath, just to find yourself tangled back up in him, his tongue stroking across your lower lip, teasing the roof of your mouth as you opened up for him. A groan skittered across your tongue from him, a pant for breath, his hand slipping up under your shirt to sit on your bare waist as you tugged on the slight curls of his hair. 
When he pulled back, at last, your lips were swollen, your lungs burning in the best way possible, and your head was spinning so much you could barely focus. The world felt fuzzy at your touch, glowing and glittering as you stole a final kiss from his lips, his soft chuckle breaking it. 
“Am I still invited for dinner with you?”
“Yes. I’m making chicken and potatoes.” Your smile lasted only a second, before you were sitting upright. Time had melted away around you, disappearing into dusk outside beyond the windows, “Oh, no, the potatoes!”
Pushing him back and hopping down from the counter, he watched with a dazed, kiss-drunk expression as you rushed to the stove, taking off the pan lid and prodding at the potatoes with a fork. 
“I amend my earlier statement. We’re having chicken and mashed potatoes, because these have gone soft. Entirely your fault for distracting me.”
“I distracted you?” He mused, sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, tugging you back to kiss at your cheeks, trailing down toward your mouth. 
“You know you did.” His only response was a smile. Draining the potatoes was a challenge, what with Azriel plastered to your back like a new limb that served no purpose, and you had to elbow him off in order to finish the food. 
While he waited, he tinkered with the dining room table, pouring two glasses of wine and rearranging. When you turned, he’d dug out the candles you’d put away, lighting them with a match once again, and blushing as he laid them out. “I thought they’d be romantic.”
“I like them.” Your cheeks were equally as heated, smiling to yourself as you turned away to check the food. 
His distance didn’t last long, as you searched for a knife with which to carve the chicken, he was once again backing you into a counter, his mouth hungrily descending upon your own. Mutters of ‘waiting long enough’ silenced on your mouth as he dove into you, hands on your body once again, trying to tempt you up onto the counter. 
“Let me cook, you menace,”
“Just a few more,” Was his barter, and those few kisses passed more and more time, his lips like a high you had to chase, until only the desperate urge to breathe could pull you apart. “Gods, I love that. I love kissing you.”
“I can tell.”
He rolled his eyes, but his smirk stayed, unashamed of his newfound addiction. 
“We need to eat, you need food.”
“I have everything I need, right here.” He leaned in again, lips puckered, and you tipped your head his mouth finding the edge of your jaw, and he grunted unhappily at the action, but mouthed at your skin nonetheless.
“How about after dinner, we can go upstairs and do some self-care. I’ll show you all the fancy new creams and skincare I got. We can relax, and cuddle, and read.”
“And there will be more kisses?”
“There will most definitely be more kisses.” You promised, cupping his face and bringing him back for a final peck. 
“Then I think I can agree to those terms.” He stared, pulling back just enough to fully take you in. As the urgency in his expression died down with the promise that this affection was not a one-time deal, his face took on blissfulness instead. Running his knuckles across your cheek, his face softened even further as you leaned into his touch, cupping his hand and pressing kisses to his scarred fingers. “You… You are my moon, do you know that? You light up even the darkest parts of life for me.”
His words were like whispered oaths, something too heavy for you to fully comprehend but burned into your mind regardless, and you gave him a sweet smile back. “You are my stars, Azriel.”
“Really?”
“Every last one. Glittering and perfect in the night, full of mystery and hopes and stories. You are my favourite part of the night sky.”
Your heads rested together, dinner temporarily forgotten just for another moment or so, to bask in the revelations of the evening. 
Today, 
today changed everything for the better.
937 notes · View notes
froggibus · 7 months
Text
Pankration - Wriothesley
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Pairing: Wriothesley x gn! Reader
Genre: hurt/comfort
Word Count: 900
Summary: Wriothesley is not impressed after you get hurt fighting in the Pankration Ring
CW: injury, reader gets stabbed, fighting, pre established relationship, soft! Wriothesley, mostly just fluffy hurt/comfort, probably some spoilers for 4.1
hello it is 230am and I just did the 4.1 quests for like ~4hrs and now I have major brain rot for this man. something about him just makes my little frog brain go feral. i haven’t finished the quest yet so apologies if something isn’t correct or if I misspelled something also not taking reqs rn but if yall have some ideas for this man i think i could take them
————
The familiar sound of heavy boot steps echoes down the halls, reverberating into the infirmary. Sigewinne gives you a wide eyed look but the panic fails to register, drowned out by the pain.
You writhe on the bed, forcing yourself into a sitting position. Sigewinne stands at your side, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.
As soon as Wriothesley enters the room, you can see he’s disgruntled. Your boyfriend says nothing as he locks eyes with you, trodding towards the end of the bed.
“What happened?”
Sigewinne tries to pipe up first. “Y/n got injured fighting in the Pankration Ring.”
Wriothesley’s features soften for a moment as he looks at the Melusine. “Sigewinne, could you leave us for a moment?”
She bows her head and scurries out of the room, as if sensing the anger radiating off of him. You clench your jaw and try to keep your eyes on random objects in the room, avoiding his gaze.
“Y/n.”
You don’t look at him, staring at an empty crate in the corner of the room.
“Y/n,” his tone is harsh.
You take a deep breath and allow yourself to make eye contact. Dark blue eyes look at you, partially in concern and partially in frustration. You shrink beneath his gaze.
“What were you thinking?” He sighs in exasperation, “the ring is for fighters. It’s for people who need a little extra stimulation in their lives—it’s not for people like you.”
You nod along with his words, shoulders slumping. Your stomach still aches from where you were grazed earlier in the day, all of your muscles serving as a sore reminder to your bitter loss.
You had just wanted to try it, just one time. You were put against another amateur fighter and you thought the fight would be easy enough. You were on the verge of winning, too. Another minute or so and the fight would have been yours.
And then your opponent slashed at you with a piece of scrap metal they’d welded to a ring and your chances of winning dropped to 0.
“I would have won,” you mumble bitterly. “I would have won if he hadn’t cheated.”
Wri’s eyes widen. “Cheated how?”
From the way his eyes darken, you almost regret mentioning it. “No weapons, no serious injuries, no killing. Those are the rules.”
“Yes.” He agrees.
You lift up the hem of your shirt and reveal the gauze around your waist. “He—he brought some sort of shank into the ring, and just as I was about to win…”
You don’t need to finish speaking for him to get the picture. Wriothesley sucks in a breath, shutting his eyes to gain his composure. He looks almost scary right now, his blue eyes almost black.
His tone is gentler now. “Do you remember who it was?”
You shake your head, “no, but I’m sure the promoter does.”
He considers this for a moment before excusing himself out of the room. You let yourself slump down into the bed, the pain growing worse as the medication Sigewinne gave you wears off. A few tears threaten to spill and your poor attempts to hold them back do nothing.
Wriothesley returns a few minutes later, a somber look on his face. “He’ll be dealt with,” he assures you, and leaves it at that.
You nod, worried that if you try to speak, the tears will come pouring out. You bite your lip to keep them back.
Wri settles on the edge of the bed, resting a hand on your shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“I-I—” You don’t manage to say anything before the tears burst out.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap, holding you against his chest. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs, petting your head, “I’m so sorry.”
He keeps a secure grip on you, being extra careful not to apply too much pressure to where you were grazed. He rocks you in his arms in an attempt to soothe you, calming you down from your sudden outburst.
He keeps you in his lap even when Sigewinne comes back into the room. The nurse holds out a small white container for you to take.
“These will help with the pain, but you need to see me every day so I can change your bandages.”
You swallow and go to speak, but Wriothesley does it for you. “Thank you, Sigewinne. I’ll be taking y/n back with me now.”
The Melusine grants you a kind smile. “Feel better now.”
You swing your feet over the side of the bed and brace yourself to stand, but Wri has other plans for you. He scoops you up bridal style into his arms as if you weigh nothing.
“You—you don’t need to carry me.”
He scoffs, “and let you walk right now?”
You sigh. He has a point.
It’s not a long walk back to his office, but between the exhaustion of the day and the soothing feeling of his arms around you, you can’t help but drift off.
Wriothesley looks down at your sleeping form and smiles. He knew you wouldn’t be able to resist falling asleep if he carried you—he’s just glad that you didn’t notice it took twice as long to get back to his office as it normally does.
He lays you down in his bed and kisses your forehead. “Rest up, baby.”
1K notes · View notes
kyeomyun · 25 days
Text
2:01 AM
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pairings: dad!jeonghan x gn!reader
genre: FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFF :((
warnings: none... you might lowkey go through baby fever :)
word count: 0.8k
synopsis: jeonghan would do literally anything to stop his baby from crying, even if it included being dolled up.
::note: WELL- yes ik now those jewels on jeonghan hair are indeed stickers and not hairclips but YK WHERE I WAS GOING WITH THIS. also hello strangers :). it's been a fat minute since I have actually written something down so if this seems a little dry... just know I haven't written anything since august 🧍🏾‍♀️but i do hope you enjoy this absolute brain rot I wrote last night at 2 in the morning 😍
network(s): @kflixnet
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If there was one thing Jeonghan absolutely despised, with his whole entire being, it would be seeing someone who he holds, oh so dearly to his heart, cry.
He knows crying is a trigger for intense emotion, don't get him wrong, he knows very well it was common with toddlers. Including his. But that does not eliminate the huge tear he feels in his chest when the salty crystalline drops roll down his wife or his daughter's cheeks.
And he would do about everything (except cook the pot roast dinner that you LOVE that takes almost 5 hours to make and Jeonghan could not, for the life of him, stand on his two increasingly aging feet for more than 2), to make his loved ones stop crying. Even if that included doing something he thought he would not fit..
"Almost done, darling?" Jeonghan asked softly, careful not to make the tire of his voice get the best of his tone.
It was 2 AM, and his daughter, Yoon, had a rude awakening with cold sweat and vivid memories of a nightmare that she did not want have the guts to relive with her father. Which the father could understand, reliving a nightmare is not fun at all and he did not want to force that scenario onto his precious girl.
"Nu-uh," She clipped another hair clip onto Jeonghan long hair, humming in approval watching her masterpiece come to life in front of her eyes. "You said I can put a lot, daddy!" She pouted, hands flowing through the overload of bows: baby pinks, baby blues, even ones with sparkles and stars dazzled upon the long strands of freshly washed hair. Messy? Yes. Did Jeonghan care? Just a little tiny bit. "I have to make you really, really, really, pretty!"
"I did say that, did I?" Jeonghan said that more to himself, his words playing back on him tremendously. His eyes were drooping, fighting back the wondrous dreamland he was in before he was awoken by a frightened 4 year old. As much as his body wanted to shut down, his mind was stuck on one thing and one thing only.
Well maybe 2.
How long will it take to take these hairclips out and how is his miniature him doing?
"Mhm!" She clipped glittery pink hairclip on a randomly selected portion of her father's hair. "But at least daddy will look extra, extra pretty!"
Jeonghan butt was staring to numb, sitting on the carpeted floor of his daughter's room criss-crossed and Yoon standing up behind him with the next 2 hairclips awaiting their home on his head. But his heart filled rapidly, an intense feeling he has always had at moments like these. Ever since Yoon was born, this feeling was almost... unexplainable. Too immense to be just happiness and too extreme to be just love. It could be a mix of both but those 2 words are just not enough. No words could ever be.
Oh, he is down bad...
The smile that stretched upon his poorly chapped lips was one worth describing though; a smile that held so much value, love, adoration, did he think love?
"One more, daddy!" Yoon announced enthusiastically, a pretty baby blue butterfly, clipped on a strand near the front of Jeonghan head. A small giggle was heard as the little girl admired her work, grabbing ahold of the mirror and giving it to her pretty caregiver. "Is it pretty?"
Jeonghan took the mirror, its weight light but enough to slightly tilt his hand a bit. This motion was able to show the awaiting face of his daughter, who too stared into the mirror and tried to read her father's face. But he obviously had his answer.
But he still pretended to contemplate, his pointer finger tapping his chin in wonder. "It's not pretty,"
That cute pout adorned her lips again, her fragile heart clenching painfully. "You... don't like it? I thought–"
"It's beautiful, baby," Jeonghan looked behind him, and nothing, absolutely nothing, could match the cuteness of seeing his other half, his small angel, puffy cheeks bunch with joy. A smile that could kill many, Jeonghan being one of millions. Billions.
"Yay!" The excitement was barely contained in her small body, slightly bouncing in her place she stood in for almost 30 minutes before her stubby arms wrapped around the neck of her father. "Do you think uncles will be jealous?"
"Very," Jeonghan stared back in the mirror, his smiling bundle of joy warming his heart to the greatest. "Very, very jealous."
A kiss was planted on his cheek, and now he was conflicted about what his members will actually be jealous about.
His marvelous creation on his head, hairclips and bows that were placed in no particular pattern, or the creator, that shined her crooked teeth and eyes shining just as bright as she went back to slightly messing with the butterfly hairclip that hung just barely in his peripheral.
Ok, definitely the creator.
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did you enjoy your order?
if you did, please reblog, like, (pls) comment, all of that jazz :>
have a good day, sweets ^^
tagging: @wheeboo @etherealyoungk @rubywonu @trblsvt @icyminghao @idubiluv @odxrilove @stormyjisung @slytherinshua @fairyhaos @gyu-effect @hannieheartuu @jaehunnyy @luvhyun3 @lvlystars @mesanthropi
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Note
Can you write hcs for Luke and a daughter of Hypnos (😴)
PLEASE
🥰
(If possible?)
⋆⭒˚.⋆ luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs
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content: luke castellan x daughter of hypno! reader hcs warning: so soft you'll puke tho tbh minor mentions of luke's angst author's note: why do i love this more than life itself???? i dunno, you tell me. i kinda wish it was longer but yo girl outta ideas. also, i think im so fucking funny for that last line like hello guys where is my oscar for funniest teen girl to exist????
lukey pookie and his sleepy girl frrrrr
you guys were, like, aware of each other but not like friends, ya know???
until his quest - well, failed quest
he kept having nightmares, horrors of the shame on his father's face, visions of his mother hearing the news had he actually died, terrible dreams of demented dragons and enough golden apples to drown in
chris noticed and suggest luke go see you, hypno's best daughter
chris knew you following a head injury that had him scared he was going to fall into a coma, but the apollo cabin had called you over to sooth his nerves.
you were also often called in when new, younger campers were struggling to sleep, which made the a common but distant face in the hermes cabin
and chris just knew you could do wonders for luke's recent sleep problems
after a little bit of resistance, luke finally went to you
he'd had the worst nightmare yet, leaving him with huge bags under his eyes and a tension in his shoulders that he couldn't seem to loose
he figured it quite literally couldn't get any worse, so he knocked on the door of cabin fifteen, already feeling slightly more at peace from just standing outside it
then a pretty girl opened the door, a cute yawn hidden behind her hand
"h-hey! luke, right? what can i do for ya?" you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before beaming a soft smile at the boy
luke choked on nothing, attempting to get words out but his tongue kept getting in the way and all that came out was chortled noises
you giggled softly, unable to keep them in despite the boys growing blush
"i-i- chris, he said- er, something about you being able to help me sleep with you- sorry! no, sleep, just, you know, in general," luke finally managed to spit out, his brain working overtime and the words coming out all wrong
you giggled at the boy once more before leaning forwards and grasping his wrist, tugging him into your cabin
you gestured towards one of the free, fluffy beds, disappearing off to somewhere, though you kept talking to the boy
"chris is really worried about you, ya know. i almost had to visit you, which we don't do very often. here, you want some tea?? lavender or chamomile? i prefer the chamomile but i think you'd like the lavender," you rambled, sitting beside him in the bed criss cross and presenting him with a mug and holding up two separate tea bags
"chamomile's fine," luke replied, taking the teabag from you, not wanting to mention that it reminded him of his mom but it reminded him of his mom
"chamomile's great!" you joked, bumping your shoulder with his
a few minutes passed of just luke drinking the tea and yawning before you mentioned that he should lie down, removing the mug from his hands
he was resistant, admittedly, not wanting to risk seeing more horrible things in his head
but you took his hand into yours, gently running your fingers along the veins and bones that you could just feel through his skin
"you think i'm just here for shits and giggles?? nah, i'm here to fistfight the boogie man. and lemme tell ya, these fists are lethal," you joke, winking at the boy, who laughed, settling into the soft pillows and blanket
but most importantly, he was settling into your presence, the hold you had on his hand, the soothing that your voice did to his brain and heart
and luke fell asleep, peacefully drifting off to the sounds of your hums and the feeling of your soft fingers ghosting over his skin
for the first time in a long while, luke castellan slept like a baby, warm and coddled and trusting that nothing bad could happen to him
not with the defender of REM cycle there
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satorusugurugurl · 1 month
Note
Can i request modern au!sukuna and reader just making out in the living room during gojos house party🫠 established relationship of course🙏
I Got You
Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x FAB Reader (MODERN AU)
Word Count: 1,983
Content Working: alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, anxiety attack, making out, suggestive
A/N: This request was so flipping cute! Loving this Modern!Sukuna AU! Like always send me suggestions!! I love hearing about your chaotic horny brain worms!
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“Hello, welcome, welcome!” Gojo Satoru yelled over the bass booming from inside the house. “Step inside my humble abode!” You wanted to roll your eyes at ‘humble abode’ as you and Sukuna stepped inside Gojo’s mansion. “I am your gracious host, sober as per usual! Beer pong is in the back; spin the bottle has turned into strip poker, so that's been moved into the basement.” Your blue-eyed friend peered over his dark sunglasses. “There's pizza, edibles, and drinks in the kitchen! Have fun, don't fuck in my room again. Suguru and I are chilling in the hot tub if you need us!”
With the completion of his speech, your host was off towards the back, dodging several drunk people. Gojo’s house parties were always the best. Hell, it's where you met Sukuna. They were full of chaos, laughter, and lots of memories. Usually, you'd be dragging Sukuna to the kitchen by now and snacking on edibles, nursing a rum and coke.
But you were a bit anxious.
Work has been so tense this week. Endless piles of paperwork, long days. Every day was the same: get up, go to work, come home, and make dinner before passing out in bed. You’d been so stressed it didn't help that you hadn't even spent time with Sukuna all week. So when Gojo invited you for a small get-together, you jumped at the opportunity. A party with your closest friends would ease the tension in your back.
What you walked into was not at all a small get-together. This was a full-ass Gojo Satoru party. It had probably started as a small get-together, but word probably spread, and Gojo would never say no to a good time. The more the merrier! But as the smell of weed and shouting echoed through the house, you were beginning to regret your choice.
Sukuna peered down at you from the corner of his eye. He could see the stress etched into your features. He had offered to take you to dinner, something quiet and calm after your hard week. But when you said you needed to blow off some steam, he didn't fight you. He'd been there, raising his two brothers. Work and school had him running to parties like this all the time before he met you.
If this is what you needed, he'd support you.
“Hey,” he bent over next to your ear, “you good? Want to get a drink?”
“Mmhmm!”
Taking your hand in his, Sukuna led you through the crowded halls into the kitchen. You searched for Nanami, Shoko, or anyone you knew, but you saw a sea of strangers. This was fine. It was okay; Sukuna was here. You were going to be OK.
“Want a rum and coke?” Sukuna yelled over the blaring music. His hand released yours. “Or something else?”
In the instant he was no longer holding you, you felt it. Your hands were shaking, and your index finger twitched—the telltale signs of an anxiety attack for you. Quickly folding your hands behind your back, you swallowed hard, heart pounding in your ears. You needed to get away, to find a quiet spot, but the last thing you wanted to do was make Sukuna worry about you.
“Surprise me!” You yelled back, looking around. “I'm going to go use the restroom!”
Your boyfriend had just started towards the drinks when you shouted at him that you were going to the bathroom. When he turned around, he watched you push through the growing crowd, clenching your left hand as you did. Sighing softly, Sukuna headed for the fridge to get what was needed.
You were shaking, eyes darting through the smokey halls, searching for privacy. The bathroom was locked, couples blocked the stairs, and people flooded through the front door. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you needed to get away from the noise and calm down! You rushed down the hall, finding the living room empty, except for a beer bottle on the coffee table. This must have been where Spin the Bottle was being played earlier. Thank fuck it turned into strip poker.
Plopping down on the couch, you stared down at your shaking hands. The index finger and middle finger twitched, pulsing as waves of anxiety slammed into you. To fight back tears, you shut your eyes tight just as your leg began to bounce. This was a nasty attack. Calm, stay calm. It would be okay.
Why didn't you listen to your boyfriend?! From the second you got in the car, you felt off. Something was going to happen, but you had no clue what it could be like a shadow figure was stalking you, waiting for the perfect chance to strike. Now that you were in the midst of your anxiety attack, it all made sense.
“Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.” You whispered to yourself. “Don't cry.”
Despite telling yourself that, it didn't prevent the tears streaming down your cheeks. Fuck. This was not how you wanted to spend your Friday night. Poor Sukuna wouldn't want to spend the night like this, either. He was stuck taking care of his weak-ass girlfriend, who couldn't calm herself down. He deserved more. Before your thoughts could spiral further, the couch dipped under someone's weight.
Turning your head to see who it was, you gasped as Sukuna cupped your face in his hands, kissing you deeply. Your heart skipped a beat as you kissed back. He pulled back, thumb brushing against your cheek before his lips were firmly against yours once more. The second kiss was deeper as he gently eased you back into the corner of the armrest.
Whimpering against your boyfriend's lips, you lifted, still shaking hands to his shoulders. Your fingers trailed over muscles as his own hands moved down the curves of your body. Sukuna’s grip was firm, holding you tight and reassuring you that he was here. That you weren't alone.
Sukuna’s tongue darted out, gently licking at your bottom lip, begging for you to allow him inside. You obeyed simultaneously, opening your mouth. His tongue slid into your mouth, deepening the already passionate kiss. Furrowing your brows, you pulled him on top of you as you laid back. Obliging your wants, Sukuna followed you, his body pressed against you. In all of the movements, never once did he break the connection.
You hadn't had a drink of alcohol or eaten one of the edibles, but you felt hazy. All thanks to Sukuna’s tongue buried in your mouth. He massaged your tongue gently with his as his hands mapped out the dips and curves of your body. Making mental notes of all the places he touched that made you squirm. The second he got you home later, those spots he would pay extra attention to. He'd mark them up, suck on them until you were begging for more.
That would be for later on. Right at this moment, you were his sole concern. He paid close attention to your body and how the tension melted away. Trembling that was driven by anxiety shifted into trembles of pleasure. The kiss meant to ground you slowly twisted into a kiss the two of you found yourselves lost in.
Your hands ran through his soft hair, pulling him closer to you. Your tongue moved against his, gently prodding and massaging it, tasting the faint traces of mint and rum. God, you felt high, so high off of him. Off of the Ryomen Sukuna, the man you were so lucky to call your boyfriend. He left you breathless in every way, shape, and form.
Which is why you pushed him back, a string of saliva connecting your lips as you gulped down the air. While you recovered from the breathtaking kiss, Sukuna eyed you. His chest heaving as he sat back, giving you some space. Fuck, he looked good. His hair was in disarray, his shirt wrinkled around the collar, and his eyes dark with lust. The two of you were drunk off each other, and you had the urge to get wasted, to drown yourself in him and nothing else.
You sprung towards him, sitting in his lap as your lips found his. This kiss wasn't as gentle as the first (if you could call it gentle). You nipped at his lips, causing him to groan against your mouth, his eyes rolling back into his skull. His hands ran up and down your back, encouraging you to keep going. You cupped his face, kissing him like your life was on the line.
Sumina moaned as you made out like teenagers on the couch. His hands tangled in your hair, tugging Y/H/C strands as you sucked and bit at his bottom lip. Fuck, you felt like a teenager. It felt good to lose yourself in his kisses.
“Sukuna! Hey, I couldn't find my ice pack—oh!” you pulled away from Sukuna’s lips, panting heavily. Gojo was wet, towel around his waist as he held a bag of frozen peas. “Well, huh, I guess you have it covered?” Your white-haired friend asked, tossing Sukuna the peas.
Suluna caught the bag, glaring at Gojo with flushed cheeks. “Yes, now go!”
“Okay, okay! Just remember to wrap it up!”
“Fuck you, Gojo!” Sukuna yelled after him as he rushed off. “Stupid fuckin’ bastard.” Sukuna sighed, leaning his head back against the couch, his very hard erection pressing against you. “Ruining the mood.”
You cocked an eyebrow, eyes darting from your boyfriend to the peas, trying to put the two together. While your mind tried to connect the dots, Sukuna sighed. The sound rumbled in his chest as he picked up the bag, pressing it gently against the back of your neck.
The cold jolted down your spine, making you jump, your hips rutting against him. “Fuck! That's cold!” Sukuna hummed, eyes wandering over your face.
“Good means it's working.” Words trailed off before he looked away, flushing a deeper shade of red. “You feelin’ better?”
“Huh?”
“You were having an anxiety attack, right?”
You blinked at his words; he knew he had seen it. “How did you know?”
“Well, for starters, I’m your boyfriend.” His signature cocky smirk graced his lips. “Plus, you kept clenching your hand, taking super deep breaths, and I noticed your fingers twitching.” God, how embarrassing was this? You groaned, pressing your forehead against his. “Hey, it's okay, I got you. I would have been here sooner, but I couldn't find any ice packs.” his hand gently rubbed circles into your thigh. “So, I had to use my kissing skills to get you to hold your breath.”
“You do listen.” Holding your breath to stop a panic attack was something you and his brother Choso had talked about weeks ago over dinner. He had seemed bored, rolling his eyes as you both excitedly gushed over a paper he was writing for school.
“Of course, I listen.” His hand squeezed your thigh. “I've been listening to you since we played Seven Minutes in Heaven six months ago.”
“Seven Minutes in Heaven?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I think you mean an hour in heaven.”
Sukuna pulled the bag of peas away, shutting his eyes as he smiled. “An hour that changed my life completely.” His words had you biting your lip.
“Say Kuna~” you rocked against him, pleased to find him still hard. “What do you say we play that again? I want you to kiss me until I see the pearly gates.”
You didn't have to say it twice. The pea bag was thrown across the room, and frozen green peas rolled in every direction. You squealed as you were thrown over your boyfriend's shoulder, getting carried off to a more private location. You were squirming in excitement when his hand firmly smacked your ass.
“Oh no, look at that. Gojo left his door unlocked~!”
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lady-ashfade · 8 months
Text
Mates By Fate
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Various Hybrid!Characters x Human!Fem!Reader.
Plot: The adoption center is filled with many different hybrids from all sorts. But when one gets a whiff of your scent that they can’t help but get excited to see you.
Characters: Rabbit!Izuku midoriya, Wolf!Katsuki Bakugo, Dog!Eijiro Kirishima, Cat!Shoto Todoroki
Warnings: quick adoption, licking, love at first sight, mention of dark past, not much.
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Rabbit! Izuku Midoriya
The building was filled with all types of noises, from barks to meows, even some growls. Some hybrids were out playing and doing their own things, some playing in groups outside or maybe they enjoyed their own company. Izuku was watching a movie that had come on just in time for his break. All hybrids get a break from the others to focus on themselves if needed, and he decided to watch his favorite movie. Super Hybrid: All might. Oh, how he adored the movie and the man it was about. His room filled with decorations of Allmight himself, posters on every wall.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen when the scene came on. Allmight fighting a bad guy, his tail smacking him around from place to place. It was like watching it for the first time, he was on the edge of his seat cheering at the screen for his hero. Not much could get his attention away from this movie, so when a scent came into his nose it peaked his interest. What was that smell? So sweet, soft yet bold, how could something smell so perfect? His flappy ears stood up and his attention drew to the hallway where his door was cracked open. Grabbing the remote be paused the movie and walked to the door.
He poked his head out slowly to see what was going on and if he could find the source of the smell. Then he saw the owner of the adoption center in the middle of the hallway, then a woman standing next to her about three doors down. A hybrid with droopy ears likes his but brown, the hybrid rubbed her head against the new woman’s hand as she smiled. When he saw you, he felt the world crash onto him with a kick to the chest.
Mate.
The words rang through his head and made his body tense up at the thought of having you in his life. But, he couldn’t have a mate? And not someone as pretty as you? He cheeks heated up while staring at you with wide eyes frozen in the doorway to his room. He could hear your conversation but didn’t truly listen, the words sounding like muffles to him. But a few seconds later your head turned when the owner said something and you looked right at him.
He yelps and slips back into his room quickly from being caught and your attention. His heart raced as fast as it could go as he panicked over every detail. Did you really see him? Was he imagining you here? What if this was a dream and he’d wake up mateless again? What if you don’t want him as a mate anyway? So many questions ran through his speedy head and made him panic.
“Izuku,” the old woman’s sweet voice called him out of his thoughts as she walked into the open room. “We have a visitor, like to meet them?” Your frame shuffled into the room and waved softly, the smile on your lips look like heaven. All he could do is stare and mumble nervously with words you couldn’t understand.
“He’s shy, but he’s a good hybrid to have around.” You nodded and reached into your pocket and his attention calmed down at the other scent he loved. Treats. A brown little heart shaped treat rest in your hands and pushed it towards him. “Hello, Izuku. My names Y/n.” The name engraved itself into his brain. The excitement finally washed over him and shot throughout his body, making him so happy that his leg started to tap and take the treat into his mouth.
He was so happy as he chew and you watched his nose crinkle with each bite, his happy feet bouncing. You giggled at the sight, he was your favorite by far. “I’ll let you have some time with him, seeing as he’s your perfect match. I shall be just outside with the other hybrids, call if you need anything.” She bowed and walked out the room.
You look at izuku and a nervous smile spread your face as he inched closer, no threatening gestures but with a curious look. His noses sniffed around your hand and up your wrists, he looked so focused. Then he nudged his faces across it like he was petting himself and your heart exploded. He looked so happy and relaxed with your touch.
“Mate.” He muttered and you froze up. Did he say that or was it a mistake…Mate? That’s interesting but you can’t help but feel like it was right. “Tell me, do you want me to take you home?” He jumped up and hugged your leg and you almost fell. Laughing you reach down to pet this hair.
He was interesting, he couldn’t get himself off of you. But he was perfectly sweet.
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Wolf! Katsuki Bakugo
Katsuki is wasn’t one for social interaction, especially with new people he had just meet. Whenever someone came to look at the hybrids he wouldn’t let them get near and just walk off or give them attitude. He was adopted once before and it was the worst time of his life, humans were cruel and he knew damn well they couldn’t put up with him. So he put off the idea that he would find someone nice enough.
Kats didn’t get along with the other hybrids, only a selected group he allowed near him. If he wasn’t hanging around them then he was outside in the shade, or playing with a chew toy that need to be replaced each day. He loved to be outside a few hours because he had a lot of energy he couldn’t release inside. Today he decided to take a break and lay on the ground to take a quick nap, the shade and sun making him tired. Then, his nose picked up a scent. Shooting his head up from his resting place his head looked around for the scent he was smelling.
This wasn’t food, it wasn’t like anything he’s ever smelled before. It was the perfect smell for him. He craved to get near the source. So he stood up and looked around, his tail wagging behind him. Big and thick with blonde and white with brown tips like his ears. “Shit.” He smelled it out and followed trail. A beautiful laugh caught his ears and he looked up to see a woman smiling with the owner, a hybrid getting their head pat. Her. It was coming from her.
Mate. Claim. Mate.
She was his mate, his tail wagged harder but his head gave him trouble. He didn’t need a mate, and not a shitty human at that. What was she trying to do? He’s a alpha and not some pet she could keep in her house- But he wanted it. To be close to her at every second to keep he safe and sound. He groaned and fell close to the ground and behind the flowers, the garden being filled with big places with high planted flowers. It was easy for him to crawl closer without being caught, after all it was in his blood to hunt.
He got closer and watched for a second. “I’ll leave you to look around, I know of a few hybrids out here. A snake one, he’s usually in the trees and many others.” She smiles and took the cat hybrid inside, leaving you alone. Smiling to yourself and straighten your blouses then walk over to the flowers, smelling them. Bakugo wiggled his body and got ready to pounce on you, why? He just felt like it. But when you giggled and looked over at his direction he froze in shock and confusion.
“There’s a mirror wall behind you,” you look a seat on the bench beside you. “But don’t be discouraged, you would of had me.” The lighthearted tone in your voice made him heat up, and your smile with no anger in it. He rolled his eyes and stood up, inching closer to you with a glare, a low growl leaving his lips to imitate you with fear. You only smiled and pulled out a big threat, a bone shaped one.
“I apologize if I offended you, it was not my intention.” Standing up slowly you tossed the treat softly before him.  “But I hope you’ll take this treat as a apology, great wolf.” His ego built up at your praise and felt better. He took the treat and took a few bites. While he was focused on the treat you backed up to leave him alone, not wanted to anger him. Wolfs can be very territorial when it comes to it, so you wouldn’t egg him in. 
“I didn’t say go, damn human.” His tough voice caught you off guard. You turned around to see him soften his glare and look at the bench you once sat at. “Sit.” You smirked for a second and walked back to the bench and did as he said. He was adorable. You stuck out your hand for him to sniff and he hesitated, looking up at you like asking permission or to get a read on you. But you only flashed him a eye closing smile.
His noses poked your hand and sniffed all around to take in your scent in, and his body turned into mush. Your scent, he craved it. “Damn, of course it be a human.” He huffed and crossed his arms. You looked at him confused, “Hmm?” Kats rolled his eyes hard and pointed at you, “Mate.” He enjoyed how you looked at him in shock and flustered.
“Now, go get the paper work done so I can leave. I wouldn’t let anyone leave with you today wether you like it or not.” His tail stomped the ground as his teeth really showed to threaten the people he thought of. “Well? Go!” You giggled and rushed away from the shouting hybrid, a rough one.
He was demanding and didn’t care. He however, was loving on the way to your house so you didn’t mind.
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Shoto Todoroki
Shoto is a hybrid that likes to take naps, his cat like nature is strong. The sunlight can make him fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place. He also loves to climb up on things to take a nice nap, mostly on a cat like tree they have for hybrids. He also has a scratching problem but not in a bad way, he just needs to stretch often. Those are the things he does in a day. Wake up, scratch, eat, Nap, scratch and then repeat. However he does hang out with some hybrids on occasion.
Today Shotos place of choice was in front of the art rooms door, so close to getting hit if someone opened the door fully. The hybrid didn’t notice this when he went to sleep or he would have scooted a bit further. You wanted to explore the place and decide to check the art room to see what’s it was like. When you opened the door you didn’t see the hybrid behind you, only a tail that curled and swung slowly. Stopping and not pushing the door any further you walked through the gap and poke your head around to see the hybrid laying there.
His hair mix toned, red and white. His tail thin but long, white fur all the way down. But his ears matched the hair on each side, he was gorgeous. You smile and push all the way in the room and close the door as quietly as you can, trying not to startle him. Kneeling down a few inches from him you start to call out softly for him to walk up. Clinking your tongue, “Little buddy, wake up please.” You repeated that line over and over. But he wasn’t little, only a small frame but you could see the muscles he had and how tall he was.
He slowly opened his eyes with a yawn, confused on what was going on. When he noticed you his demeanor changed slight. His face dropping and staring you, with almost a cold glare. Chuckling to not be afraid you step back, “Sorry, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. You were sleeping in front of the door.” You glanced at the door and showed him what you meant. But he didn’t stop staring at you with a unreadable expression.
Shoto was freaking out inside. Your scent drove him insane, one he wanted to run and nuzzle up to. He couldn’t look away from your pretty face or he would have. What was this? Had you have some sort of magic to bewitched him? Why was his body on fire? He had so many emotions and non of them made sense. Until his mouth started to water..
Mate.
The clicking sound echoed through his brain when he realized what you were to him. A mate. Fate was funny about bringing people together and he didn’t have to find you, you found him. “Hello?” You waved a hand in front of your face as he continued to be silent and frozen. He blinked finally and you felt relieved. “Call me shoto.” You hummed at the calming tone. “Y/n.” You reached out your hand with a smile. Of course he couldn’t hold himself back from taking it and sniffing you.
Your scent was so nice to smell, calming but made his blood pump. You had weird affects on his body. You watch him sniff you and it made you laugh as he kept hitting his nose against the center. He was booping his own nose. Then he did something unexpected and licked your hand softly. To give affection he kept doing it, small licks. Nothing more to the eyes. Only he did it to get his scent on you.
“Adopt me.” He look up at you blankly and you were taken aback by his boldness. “We just met, don’t you want to get a know me first?” You asked. Most hybrids take a week at least before getting comfortable with a owner, or at least a whole day. “I know all I need, you are my mate of course.” He nuzzled against your hand as his tail swayed around smoothly.
“Mates?” You questioned but couldn’t help but rub his cheek, he purred so loudly you could feel it. “Hmm, smell you. Us hybrids have mates, or some do and mine is you.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Now, I’m tired. Could you go get everything done so I can’t go back to napping?”
You took shoto home that night and he fell asleep on your nap. Followed you around the house with his head in your shoulders.
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Eijiro Kirishima
Kiri likes to be with other hybrids and people, a social butterfly if you will. He always has a smile on his face to cheer and play with the others, the big brother of the estate. His dream is to one day have a forever home with a family that loves him but worries about being worthy. Despite always tell the others they’d get adopted or cheer them up, he felt the same way. But he puts it off and has fun instead, he’s very active. They had to build a new playground area just for him and hybrids like him who are rough but playful.
Kiri today was in the playroom all by himself and it saddens him, no one to play with. He’d have the rope in his mouth and swing it around almost like a weapon. Or jumping around from the bars to places, or his favorite. Catch. They had a device to throw the ball automatically and he loved it, almost as much as someone actually throwing him the ball. Kiri watched the ball get shot out and hit the table making it change direction to the door. To his surprise the door opened just as the ball rolled on the floor and stop between someone’s leg. His mind focused on the ball he chased after it.
His legs ran to catch the small object and only to be caught in another trance caused by a smell, a delicious smell. Stopping in his tracks he froze and looked up at the person at the door who now looked at the ball between her feet. A smile spread on her lips when she bent down to pick it up. The smell was coming from her. Was it a treat in her pocket? What flavor was it? That smell was heaven to his nose, like it was made just for him.
Mate.
Giggling you looked at the pup in front of you, a grip on the ball “Want me to throw it?” You wiggled it slightly. Thump thump. The sound of his huge fluffy tail hit the floor as he panted quietly. He was so excited. “Get it.” You threw it past him and made sure not to hit anything but far for him to have fun. He leaped up and chased after it, so fast and quick. It was cute to watch him bite the ball and chew down on it slightly then look back at you. He pranced back to you with his tail wagging, a pride filled aura as he puffed out his chest.
He dropped the ball at your feet and sat back on the floor, his tongue sticking out. “Awe, such a good boy.” You reached down to pet his head but gave him enough time to pull away if he’d like. But he didn’t so your hand patted the red hair, slightly touching the ears on his head. “My names Y/n.” Without a warning he jumps up and knocks you down, leaning onto of you and starts to lick across your face. His hands on your chest and tail making a breeze.
You laughed and tried to move but he didn’t let up on his actions. You smelled too good. You called him a good boy. A perfect mate for him. He leaned up and didn’t let his hands up from your stomach. “Eijiro Kirishima.” His smile was so wide you saw his teeth that looked perfectly white and sharp. Taking a breath you smile up at the hybrid you just met. “Nice to met you.” He jumped off you and waited for you to get up.
When you did you brushed off yourself and whipped your face off. Kiri stood up finally and you looked up at him, he was one of the biggest hybrids you have ever seen. Blushing at his height you giggled, he was just a huge puppy. “Are you here to adopt?” He asked, his ears and tail stopping and going down. You could tell he was sad and you wondered why.
“Yes, I am.” You see him look at the floor and a sad smile grew on his face. “They’d be luck to have you.” The heart in your chest shattered at his tone, so quick to dismiss himself. “Would you be willing to get adopted? I was looking for a dog hybrid…If you’re willing.” Kiri’s head shit up and his body started to wage and bounce. The sparkle in his eyes reappeared and his happiness coming back.
The next thing you know his arms are wrapping themselves around you and pulling you closer, his tongue licking your cheek. You patted his head, “I’ll take that as a yes.” You didn’t expect to meet the hybrid of your dreams on the first day of looking but here he was. “Mate, going home with my mate.” His words made you tense up. Mate? Does he think you’re his mate… Why doesn’t that not sound wrong?
“Okay, let’s go so I can go to the office.” He whined and hugged you closer. His head rested on your shoulder and he refused to let you go, he had a person for the first time. Too soon to let go. “You can come with him, but I need to walk.” He felt your chest vibrate with laughter and he huffed. His arms let your waist go but hooked on your arm instead.
You didn’t expect him to be so clingy and protective over you but that’s what he was. You’re now his home. But there’s no other pup for you.
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monzabee · 9 months
Text
déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4
masterlist
Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.
Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!
Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.
You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”
“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”
“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”
Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.
“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”
“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.
Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”
He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.
You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”
You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”
He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.
Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”
The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”
Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”
He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."
You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."
Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"
You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."
He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"
You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”
As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.
Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.
"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.
Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."
But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"
You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.
Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."
You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.
Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."
Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."
As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.
"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."
You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."
He grins, "You love it, though."
You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”
The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.
"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"
Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"
You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.
His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"
“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.
His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”
Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”
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Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.
After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.
You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"
"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"
“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”
“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”
You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.
‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.
With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.   
He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.
Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”
You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.
“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”
Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”
Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”
“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”
“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”
You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."
Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."
You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."
And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.
“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”
“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.
“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.
“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”
A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”
You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”
“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”
Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.
Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.
It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.
You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”
You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”
“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”
“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”
The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”
“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”
“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”
“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”
As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.
You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”
 “Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”
You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”
Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”
With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.
“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”
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After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.
You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”
You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”
“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”
“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”
“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.
“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”
Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”
It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.
Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.
So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”
He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.
“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.
You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”
He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”
“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”
You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”
You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”
“Well when you put it like that–”
“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”
His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”
“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”
As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”
“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.
You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”
His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.
“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”
His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”  
It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”
The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”
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crymyeyesout1 · 2 months
Text
Set in their sights
poly!marauders 
Summary: The marauders are all in a poly relationship with each other and Lily when they all individually become interested in a shy hufflepuff in their year. What about this little hufflepuff makes them all feel complete? Will she return their affections?
Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of smut, lots of fluff, very shy oc, mentions of child abuse. let me know if there are any more
PSA: this is my first time writing on tumblr so please be kind, I'm trying my best. And there is absolutely no peter in this story so sorry not sorry. Please let me know if you like it and if I should write more.
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James and Sirius were hurriedly making their way through the train; their lovers were already in the marauders designated compartment and they were running late. It would seem as if the two hadn’t seen them since their fifth  year ended just three months ago, but in reality it had been only five days since their shared boyfriend and girlfriend had departed from James’ home where they had spent almost the entire summer doing whatever they pleased. 
“Pads slow down you are going to run someone over” James pleaded with his boyfriend
“ Prongs please we are late and I’m not going to-” he was cut off by a body colliding with him square in the chest and falling over. He peered down to see a small girl and became almost immediately enamored with in his eyes she was the most adorable girl he’d ever seen to others she was almost odd looking her hair was mostly pitch black but around her face and peeking out a bit from the underneath was bright blonde and all of it was naturally curly. The girl was wearing a hufflepuff jumper that looked at least one size too big with a black skirt and sheer tights that had some kind of pattern to them, stars, Sirius recognized and on her feet lay black worn out combat boots. Sirius reached out his hand to help the poor girl up and for a few seconds she hesitated almost as if she was scared of what would happen if she did take his hand, which reluctantly she did. He carefully pulled her to her feet and as he did so he took quick notice of her eyes: they were a dark gray and dull like there was no life behind them, they were slightly sunken and were surrounded by deep dark blueish purple eye bags. Just by looking into them Sirius could tell she was sad and it broke his heart a part of him wanted to take this girl and hide her away from all the evils of the world that she had already seen. He wanted to be the reason the light returned to those eyes. His thoughts were going a million miles a minute when someone clears their throat dragging him back to reality. It was James, his boyfriend, how could he be so stupid as to be so caught up with this random girl that he completely blanked on his relationship. He had two boyfriends and a girlfriend already. What was he doing ogling this poor girl? 
“Hello there, sorry about this brute, he can’t pay attention to anything even if it's right in front of him” James quickly apologized to the poor girl on Sirius’ behalf.
“It's quite alright” a soft and dreamy voice came from the girl in front of them, James instantly took more notice of the girl completely understanding he boyfriends staring now. In just three words you had encapsulated him and he needed more.
“Well little love, I’m James Potter and can I tell you how much of a pleasure it is to run into you. Please you must tell me your name, little love.” The girl blushed furiously at the nickname and softly responded.
“Abigail Gaunt '' Her last name caused Sirius to freeze, flashes of his mothers teachings came flooding into his brain. The Gaunts were the last known descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but the last living Gaunt was put in azkaban for murder by means of the killing curse, an unforgivable. How was one standing in front of him, and how was she a hufflepuff, oh how he would love to see the look on his mothers face the last known heir of slytherin sorted into hufflepuff. Surely she couldn’t be in his year, his own sorting into gryffindor had caused uproar but this, this was a whole new level. James had seemed to notice the shock on Sirius’ face and had elbowed his arm, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.
“Oh I’m Sirius Black, but of course you already know that doll” he winked at her and if her face could have gotten any redder it would.
“Um well yes but um I-It's nice to m-m-meet you” she stuttered out trying with all her might to act normal but in her mind no she wasn’t normal not even in the slightest bit. But two fourths of the infamous marauders stood in front of her and were they? Merlin forbid they were flirting with her? 
Impossible, flirt with her? What were they thinking?
She tried to reason with herself when a beautiful voice filled the hall
“There you boys are Remus and I were starting to worry oh! Who is this?” The voice belonged to the one and only Lily Evans, every aspect of her was beautiful, it was no wonder she had the three most sought after boys in the school on her leash. And what was that last part, she had noticed the small hufflepuff standing with her boys. Abigail might as well have been on fire with how hot and red her cheeks were.
“Lily Pads! We were just on our way when Padfoot decided to tackle Abby here” he looked down at her and cocked his head to the right “ I can call you Abby right? Good because that what I’m calling you, Abby is so much cuter sounding than stuffy Abigail” The girl now newly nicknamed Abby gave a small squeak as the larger and very muscular boy wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him and gave a small “sure”  when she noticed his expecting gaze. If someone could die from embarrassment Abby definitely would be long dead. 
“Oh it's so nice to me you Abby what year are you?” Lily gushed at the girl in her boyfriend's arms, she was just too cute and her deeply reddened cheeks only made her more so. Lily wanted nothing more than to kiss them but that would need to be discussed with her boys.
“Come on boys, let's leave Abby here to go find her compartment, I’m sure her friends are waiting, just as Remus is waiting on us.” She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Abby’s cheek then turned and walked back to their compartment. Abby didn’t have a chance to even think about how she definitely didn’t have any friends waiting on her, in fact the past five minutes have been the most interaction she’s had with someone her age ever she thought. Each of the boys had followed lily’s lead and each kissed one of your cheeks and moved to their compartment. Leaving Abby a flustered mess in the middle of the train.
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doobea · 9 months
Text
I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI
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synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.
contents: fem!reader, explicit content, they do basically everything BUT seggs (oral male and female receiving, sexting, fingering), extreme word vomit and narration in the beginning, characters are all in their mid/late-20s, romcom, honestly they're figuring themselves out, mdni word count: 4K a/n: honestly, idk why the word count keeps increasing everytime but i tried to make this as fluffy and emotional as possible?? please have respectful eyes and thoughts when reading :3c - again if u wanna be added to the taglist just comment below hehe
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三 : Baby, my room is the G spot -> prev. -> next.
You've spent the past few weeks mulling over your "passion project"; spending the majority of your days writing till late as three in the morning, back slouched and brain caffeinated, convincing yourself that each paragraph written was perfect. But recently you've found yourself hating every word, every sentence, and every character development point that you've produced. If it wasn't for the fact that you've poured over 30,000 words into the novel you would've scrapped everything and started over. Something felt off.
You groan, kicking your legs underneath your office desk and slumping over in your chair. The words on the screen didn't even look like words anymore. You can't count how many times you've rewritten the same paragraph. Writer's block is killing you and you blame it on your husband.
It's been exactly three days since the dressing room incident and, unlike grown adults, you both decided it was best to sweep it under the rug. There was a small window of opportunity to speak about it but it didn't help that minutes later the store manager put two and two together and implemented a lifetime ban against you and Rin. Needless to say, the drive home was dead silent. But at least you received the clothes for free!
Of course, a million questions ran through your head, trying to piece together what even caused Rin to do that. The most far you've gotten with him was limited to heavy make-out sessions, and even those are a rare occurrence. Your not-so-obvious plan of trying to seduce him worked (it was Shidou's idea), so why do you feel like you're back to square one?
The messaging app on your laptop hops up and down before its jarring ringtone blasts through the speakers. You click 'accept' when you see the names of your familiar penpals pop in the middle of the screen and enter the call seeing eerie smiles coming from everyone.
"So," Bachira sings, eyes gleaming with intensity, "how did it go?"
So much for “hello”.
A soft blush creeps its way to your cheeks and it doesn't go unnoticed by your friends. A chorus of 'oohs' and 'aahs' follow suit and you feel even more naked than you were days ago.
"It went well, like super well." You meekly recall the explicit events that occurred in the dressing room, stumbling over the details as you remember your husband's careful movements against your skin and lower regions.
The four men sit up straight, whispering to each other with wide eyes 'See? I told you so!' and Shidou proudly puffs out his chest at his genius plotting.
"But," And this is where everyone stops in their tracks and tenses, "we still slept in separate beds afterwards."
Betrayal and disgust are written on their faces.
Hell breaks loose as the men raise their voices at the same time, a series of fake cries and spurs of curse words that you haven't heard before leak from the device. You hastily connect your Bluetooth headphones to your laptop to hopefully drown out the sounds since Rin is still very much at home - just in the other room.
"Guys," Your voice strains, "everything will be okay." The reassurance is more for yourself than for anyone else on the call.
"I just wanna know what your husband is thinking." Chigiri presses his lips together in a tight line.
"He's bold enough to finger fuck you in a dressing room but doesn't have the balls to just sleep in the same bedroom?" Shidou scoffs.
Hiori raises a hand to interject while wearing an uneasy expression, "You ever think there's something that happened in his past that's causing him to avoid certain amounts of intimacy?"
You draw in a deep breath before shaking your head, "Honestly, I'm not sure if there's much on his past and we've always danced around the topic." More like Rin would always try and excuse himself from the conversation during the few times that it did happen. You've assumed the number of partners is probably more than the average person, given the fact that he's a popular athlete and gives off 'male lead' energy in a drama.
"Here's a wild thought to consider!" Bachira shares his screen, and the contents of a poorly drawn-out graphic bearing the colorful words 'TOP THINGS TO DO TO SEDUCE A VIRGIN' pops up. There is a step-by-step guide with weirdly in-depth descriptions for each point. The points labeled 'force them to share a bed' and 'lingerie' were scribbled out while being accompanied by a sad face.
"What am I looking at exactly?" You blank at the screen, ignoring the suppressed giggling fits coming from Shidou and Chigiri in the background.
Hiori clears his throat, "We were all thinking that maybe your husband is also a virgin." The jarring statement causes you to choke on your saliva but he continues on, "It's clear that he cares about you from what you've told us, and maybe the dressing room incident caused him to have some sort of confidence in his performance? We believe he's just shy and is waiting for you to initiate the process."
Chigiri nods in agreement, "And given that he's avoidant talking about his past relationships, it could mean he just doesn't have any partners and assumes that you probably had plenty."
"But why would he even assume that?"
"Because," Shidou launches himself close to the camera, "you're literally a smut master. You don't think he's looked up your shit even once?"
You open your mouth, trying to fish the right words to respond, and nothing comes out. You find your legs bouncing rapidly against the hardwood floor and gnaw at the bit of flesh in your mouth, a sudden surge of a mix of anxiety and excitement bursting through your veins. "This—I don't think makes sense." Except, you think, it does. It 100% does make sense and you want to hit yourself on the head for not catching it earlier.
Bachira lets out a long whimsical sigh and zooms in to the top of the graphic, enhancing the words 'SEND HIM NUDES, "You can start with this and," he scrolls down to the next bullet point, "follow up with my favorite foreplay: sexting!"
Subconsciously, you find yourself reaching for the phone, staring hard at the background photo of you and Rin on one of your earlier date nights. The photo had poor lighting quality due to the only source being his small apartment TV at the time. The two of you were seated against the couch cushions on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest and his arm awkwardly wrapped around your shoulder. It was your first couple's photo together after a long movie marathon. A shitty but precious photo nonetheless. You find yourself thinking, maybe the third time is the charm?
Rin shuts his laptop after another hour-long session with Anri, feeling everything but relaxed. He didn't go into much detail on what happened, fearing both judgment from his therapist and recognition of the lack of communication skills - so he lies. He didn't care if Anri was able to sense it, Rin knows he's a bad liar, but he also knows that he probably shouldn't be venting with a distracted mind.
He tosses his headphones to his side and lays down on the bed, limbs sprawling out in all directions to try and release some of the tension in his body. Ever since what occurred three days ago, he's been struggling to act like his usual self. His kicks have been sloppy, rushed, and just filled god awful accuracy. The meals that he tried to cook himself right afterward always end up tasting burnt for being on the stove a minute too long. And you? Rin remembers you asking if you had wanted to talk about it shortly after but he was quick to decline. A bit too quickly. He knows he should've started the conversation but restless thoughts of insecurity clouded his judgment.
What if you secretly hated it? What if you faked your orgasm? Will anything that he'll do live up to your prior experiences?
He shudders at the thoughts before snapping back up from the mattress. Rin needs to relieve this stress build-up by doing the only thing he knows best and starts packing his gym bag for the training grounds.
When he pokes his head out, he vaguely overhears muffled voices along with your fingers rapidly typing away at your keyboard, and exhales. You're still busy in your weekly meeting and that means he can have plenty of alone time if he doesn't bump into his teammates during after-hours. Rin quickly fills up his water bottle, throwing in a couple of ice cubes, then dips.
Luck is finally on his side as Rin steps onto the open turf field with no one in sight. He lets out a deep sigh, throws down his bag, and dives deep into his routine work. His mind goes numb an hour in after scoring against the dummy goalie for the nth time, his accuracy returning at a steady pace, and finally decides to take a quick water break. Just as he finishes relacing his cleats, a familiar buzzing sound catches his ears, glancing down to see your text.
my love "are you alone right now?"
He pauses and stares. For some reason, he feels like this is a test and hesitates an answer. Are you in a bad mood? Are you asking to have a long-winded phone call over the incident? Rin's shaky fingers hover over the phone's keyboard and, before he has the chance to say anything, you send over the next message.
The first thing he sees is 'IMAGE RECIEVED' and the second thing he sees is a pair of breasts. Your breasts. It's a faceless photo but he recognizes the white lacey outfit from the boutique. You had one of your arms pressed under your breasts to elevate them for extra volume and your thighs were spread open just enough for your folds to slip through. Rising temperatures and aches soon force their way down to his stomach and growing length.
Even though Rin knew he was alone, he snaps his neck side to side just to make sure before replying.
Rin "looks nice"
He immediately regrets it. It's not like he plays nonchalance very well, either way. Rin is fast to recall back to the erotic novels he's read and pulls together a message that is more fitting and elegant in his eyes.
Rin "do you want me to come back?"
You're quick to respond back and he grimaces.
my love "no."
But you continue to his surprise.
my love "but if you're alone do you mind touching yourself?"
Rin inhales a sharp breath and palms his evident aching length through his shorts, it's burning to the touch. He's confident that there aren't any cameras that are still on, there was no point if everyone else went home for the day, right? Rin finds a comfortable corner in the arena and presses his back flush against the cold wall, pulling out the camera app on his phone. He adjusts the position so that his lower abs are in frame and tug down his waistband enough for his head to poke out, already wet and raging red from precum, and snaps the picture over.
my love "oh wow wait you're at practice rn?" Rin "don't worry too much, im the only one here" "do you want to see more?"
There's a moment in pause and Rin thinks maybe he's overstepped his place as he watches the text bubbles reappear and disappear soon after the other. But soon you return with his message with more than what he can bite.
my love "dont finish just yet! come back when you're done with training and let's have a talk." ATTACHMENT: 1 IMAGE
And it's a photo of your ass.
On instinct, his fingers brush over his sensitive head and he bites down his lips to contain a threatening moan from escaping. As much as Rin would love to pleasure himself shamefully on work grounds, curiosity, and some sense of morals, crawl back to his senses.
Rin "be back in 15"
With a quick toss of his water bottle and ruffling for his car keys, RIn has never driven home at lightning speed till now.
You find yourself pacing back and forth in your bedroom, heart hammering against your chest as you fiddle with the lace hanging from your bodysuit as a failed attempt to calm your nerves. A part of you wants to thank your friends for their suggestions and another part of you wants to hide underneath covers because you still can't process that this might be finally happening.
Sounds of keys jingling by the front door halts your movements and you could hear your husband frantically tossing his shoes and bag on the floor - an uncharacteristic trait for someone neat like Rin. Before you get the chance of covering up in any way, the athlete rushes into your room, seemingly a bit out of breath. His usual teal eyes now have a familiar dark overcast over them, similar to how he looked in the dressing room days ago.
You press your thighs together, shyly averting your gaze from the male, and cough, "I think we both need to confess something so I'll go first. I want us to explore more intimately but I want you to know that you're going to be my first for essentially everything." You make an anguished noise, flush, and look away. Rin doesn’t press it, but the silence falls over, and it's a heavy one.
You hear him let out a small, but audible, gasp of sorts. Then some shuffling. Then a soft plop. You look up and Rin is sitting on your bed, patting the spot next to him and shooting you a gentle smile. Pressure that you didn't even realize you had is released from your body as you sit down, immediately reaching out to interlace your fingers with his. You sink your head against his broad shoulder.
"You're my first for everything too," Rin admits followed by a hushed sigh, his cheeks tinted red, and it looks like he's going to either laugh or cry, you can't tell but, from the moonlight shining through the windows, you can at least see that he isn't terrified. "So let's take care of each other, okay?" And gives your hand a tight squeeze.
Rin reaches over and tugs you to straddle in his lap. It's not awkward, almost easy, and you follow the eager voices chanting in your head as you lean back between your husband's firm thighs. Arms loop around his neck and your eyes lock, meeting his dark and seemingly naive ones. There is enough natural light flowing in that you can count each individual eyelash, notice the small movements in his pupils as he searches for permission, how his lips tweak from both nervousness and hunger, and that his skin is essentially flawless.
You take the initiative and the kisses that you leave on his collarbones are enthusiastic, needy, and messy - more displaced saliva than anything else. But neither of you cares enough. Rin lets out the slightest of moans and his hands find their way to your thighs, thumbs pressing down hard that leaves you wondering if there's a chance for bruises tomorrow.
His grip on you tightens when your lips hover over his flushed ears. You decide to play with this discovery and drag your teeth over his right ear lobe, almost moaning in response to the noise that escaped from Rin's mouth.
"I didn't realize that you have sensitive ears." You continue to playfully nibble his lobes, managing another groan from the male.
"Don't push it." Rin breathes out before pressing one of his thumbs against your covered folds, humming in contentment when he realizes that it's completely soaked. As he circles around your heat, he hears his name slipping through your plumped lips, a distinctive whine that makes his cock twitch. "Let me try something real quick."
He sets you aside and gets up, desperately tossing his sweat-covered t-shirt and unbearable sweats from his warming skin. All clothes from his body are stripped and forgotten on the bedroom floor as he stands fully exposed and watches your flustered figure with nothing but instincts taking over.
Rin lays fully down on the mattress and motions you to climb on top, ass facing him. If your face wasn't red before, it sure is red now after putting the indications together. "Come here, let me make you feel good." His voice is coated with needy intoxication and you obediently follow his commands.
You carefully hover your lower half over his face and lay face to face with his twitching head, mind racing as you try and figure out how exactly are you going to fit him in your mouth. It should be a crime to be this dangerously attractive and pair it with something so big. Before you get the chance to grasp his length, your body jolts and a shriek escapes your lips. Looking over your shoulder, you see Rin spreading your warmth apart with a smirk etched onto his face.
"Relax," is all he says, pulling down your thighs, and your mesh-covered mound meets with his impatient tongue flicking and drinking your soiled leakage.
You let your mind blissfully go blank and struggle to not grind your hips against his nose. Your ragged breathing hangs over his leaking tip and it twitches angrily in response. Finding your strength, you curl your hand around his throbbing erection, giving it a few experimental strokes, immediately taken aback by how firm a penis can be.
"A bit looser, love." Rin hisses out between your legs, his mouth now covered in a mixture of your fluids and his drool. He's fighting a war in his head, debating whether to stop to look at your cute attempt to swallow him whole or continue to ravage your dripping folds. The second option sounds infinitely more appealing, he thinks.
You mumble out a drunken apology and adjust your grip. After a few strokes and vibrations of him groaning against your lower half, you finally find the courage to consume his impressive size. Your lips wrap itself around his head and Rin is doing everything that he can to not shove the entirety of his cock down your hot, welcoming tunnel. The combination of your crazed moans and juices are like honey in his throat and it drives him insane. The swirling from your tongue around his tip and your bobbing head movements send his hands to grasp each side of your ass, he whines and kneads against the soft fat.
"Fuck," Rin knows he shouldn't buck his hips into you, especially since you look like you're still struggling with his length, but it feels too good for it to go unnoticed. "Don't stop, do that again."
You let out a hum against his head in response, sending static shock to his legs, and repeat the process again. Rin chooses not to hold back his moans, not when you're both figuring out each other's bodies for the first time, and he allows the heavy fog in his vision to swallow him whole. His fingers dig deep into the flesh of your ass and grinds your hips back and forth on his mouth, making sure that your hood rubs against the tip of his nose for added pleasure. A minute passes and Rin feels the pressure building faster than he can even warn you.
"Baby, I—" He gasps out, the knot quickly comes undone in his stomach and unintentionally releases in multiple spurts into your mouth. Rin feels you choke in response, and knows that the load is way more than what he usually produces. His head rolls deep into the pillow and cries out a moan when you attempt to swallow with his overly sensitive cock still between your lips.
You pop his wet length from your now sore jaw and laugh weakly, "So that's what semen tastes like."
Rin grunts and proceeds to flip your body onto the bed, earning a loud yelp from you, "Still need to finish you off." He slips between your legs, resting his mouth on top of your wet mound, and sucks off the remaining slick through the mesh fabric. You almost clamp your thighs together from the sensitivity but his arms stop your actions.
Your hands grab at the bedsheets, knuckles turning white from the obvious burning sensation slowly building up in your stomach as his mouth makes its way over to focus solely on your itching nub. You feel him tugging the fabric to the side and you immediately release a loud mew, curling your back against the mattress when his fingers feel their way inside your mushy entrance and pumping in all the right angles from before.
Encouraged by your response, he speeds up his pace and feels your tightness form as you writhe under his touch. Rin soon notices that your body has gotten too tense, knowing the struggle that you've caught yourself in as tears threaten to escape from your eyes. He pauses his fingers inside and coos, "I want you to look at me as you cum. Can you cum for me?"
You say nothing but your insides couldn't help but to pulse against his fingers after hearing his daring words. He takes that as approval and resumes his speed, mouth latching back to its original position but this time his half-lidded eyes don't falter from yours. Hands fly to tear skin at the broad shoulders beneath as you breathe out his name in ecstasy. Soon you're scrambling against him, lifting your hips from the wet mattress over his fingertips and face, wanting more, and Rin realizes that you're stumbling through a messy, hard-fought orgasm that he's completely responsible for causing. The juices spilling from your sobbing canal leaves him fuzzy and ransacked as he struggles to consume them.
He gets up, wipes his slick-covered mouth, and watches your chest heave from a mix of exhaustion and pleasure, "I'll be right back."
Your vision is blurry, to say the least, but you make out the subtle lighting turning on in the background, the sounds of a faucet running, and then the touch of your gentle husband as he makes brief dabs with a towel against your nether regions. You groan at the contact.
"Does it hurt?"
You shake your head, voice barely there, "Just a bit sore, it was really intense."
A chuckle rolls off his lips that send flutters to your already pounding chest. Rin feels his lips twist into a smile that matches yours, unable to fight off the feelings of warm affection that bloom deep in him as you stare deep into his gaze. He bends down, planting a chaste kiss on your sweat-ridden forehead while undoing the strings of the laced bodysuit. "I'm sorry, let's get you out of this thing and clean up, okay?"
You run your body under the rush of the warm water in the shower, cheeks flushed and mind still processing the fresh events. A negative creeping thought gnaws against your skull, saying that maybe he'll sleep in his room again but that dissipates when you hear him entering the bathroom. You see your naked husband looking at the ground through the translucent curtains, almost in a shy manner, completely forgetting the fact that he dominated you just moments ago, and whispers, "Do you mind if I join you?"
It's your turn to laugh this time, "The shower you mean? Yea, you can."
"Mhm," He brushes the curtains away and steps behind you, hands grabbing your waist and pulling your bodies closer, "I meant for the night."
Suddenly, you find yourself smiling wide, it was infectious and silly, like you had just won a prize at the carnival fair. You melt against his chest and peer up into his sharp teal eyes, "Thought you'd never ask."
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— after sickness, after health + sae itoshi.
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૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — your ex husband is a menace. married or not, you'll always belong to him.
⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up to 20s, smut, angst, divorce, custody battles, you have kids, cheating (with sae lol), manipulation, possesion, slight yandere if you squint, dub-con, tummy bulges, hold the moan, spit!kink, drunk sex, unprotected sex, toxic relationships, previously established relationships, mentions of arguments, ex husband + pro player!sae, fem!reader - not beta read !
⭑ words — 1.5K.
⭑ notes — hello... i was not meant to write this but,, i fear i cannot escape the bllk brain rot lmao !! sorry if he's ooc or too mean but i hope u like it ily guys mwah <3 - m.list ✩
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oooo ex husband!sae is so annoying, jarring, he’s horrible.
the divorce is somewhat amicable. both of you pretend it is. you were young and in love but now you’re growing out of affectionate shoes that are too small for you now. it hurts. but you pretend.
ex husband!sae takes what’s his and you take what’s yours. sae doesn’t want what you have and what he gave you — being the big bread winner he was, you keep the house and the cars, the expensive wedding gifts his parents sent from abroad. pity presents, he calls them. he doesn’t want you to be out on your own.
the only thing you and ex husband!sae fight over are the kids — it’s a long and drawn out battle. very messy with tears on your end begging him to call it even and take the deal your lawyer offers up so that the public stops tearing you down. he likes that you’ve called him against the wishes of your lawyers, you’re coming to him as his ex-wife — pleading with him in that way that makes his lips quirk up in a cruel smile because it’s been so long since ex husband!sae heard you beg for him like that.
maybe the custody battle was only to drag you through the mud, make you hurt a little bit so you remember ex husband!sae for the rest of your life. the time you spend with kids is split down the middle.
ex husband!sae hears it from one of your little girls on the way back from their ballet class that mommy is seeing someone new. your other daughter likes him a lot, says he gets them ice cream on the weekends where you have them. and sure enough, your ex doesn’t like that, a weird and sick sense of possession curling around his heart and lungs because you’re not supposed to have been able to move on from sae. you’re only supposed to be happy with him.
ex husband!sae who invites himself over to dinner with your girls on the night he knows that your new boy toy will be there. a sense of pride washes over him as he takes in your expression when you open the front door to him; your eyes wide, pretty lips parted in a delicate ‘o’ — you look as though you might cry, asking him if he’s here for the girls and blinking quick when he says he wants to join the four of you for dinner. he watches the curve of your ass as you lead him inside, wanting to rip that little apron right off of you and make you his again in front of your boyfriend.
the kitchen is cramped with both men politely arguing over how to make the girls’ favourite dinner while they watch bluey out in the living room — paying no mind to the tension building down the hall. your boyfriend seems uncomfortable with how comfortable ex husband!sae is in your space. he knows where the spices are, how you like to wash the dishes as you go along, the way you set the dinner table. your stress runs high as sae flits through your home, after all he did live here once too.
your boyfriend puts his hand on your shoulder. sae smiles when you shrug him off.
the polite yet snide comments continue when your girls are seated for their meals. ex husband!sae makes it known that your current partner has no place at the table, that he could never have you because you’re too loyal to the routine and life that you know. you turn to the fancy bottle of red wine sae bought with him as stress relief.
you’re slightly tipsy when ex husband!sae puts your children to bed — he stops on the creaky stairs because he can hear you drunkenly argue with your boyfriend about tonight’s events and he can’t help but feel as if he’s won. your boyfriend doesn’t think that sae should be around, that he’s bad for you, for the girls too for picking fights in front of them. and like the loyal little thing you are, you defend your ex-husband because he’s a good father and he takes care of you. he always has.
sae only steps in when he sees you getting upset, crumbling under the weight of the evening, the stress of being a single mother with someone who doesn’t understand it the way your ex does. no one else should have the power to make you cry like the midfielder does. that’s sae’s job. the steps of the stairs groan under the weight of his footsteps as sae trudges down them — intervening when you flinch away from your boyfriend who’s raised his voice at you in an attempt to get you to see that ex husband!sae is bad for you.
you screw your eyes shut and clench your fists, not intoxicated enough to fail to gently remind your current partner. “please don’t yell at me.”
you sound so hurt by the argument and that only serves to piss sae off.
“i can take care of her from here,” ex husband!sae brushes past your boyfriend to pull your swaying frame into his chest — sweeping in like your knight in shining armour and ushering the man out of his house with a sick smirk. “i think you should leave.” your boyfriend says he’ll text you later on, no doubt, with the intention to smooth things over while he still feels threatened by your pro-football player ex. but you don’t find the time to respond when later does eventually come around.
because later that night, you give into your urges and succumb to familiarity where ex husband!sae has your knees pressed into your shoulders and your hot cunt wrapped around his shaft — milking him so good like you always have. like you’re meant to be. the midfielder shudders above you, listening out for the squelching symphony your sex sings for him as he fucks you nice and slow. sae fills you up until you can feel his cock in your lungs, dragging his milky pre along your walls as if it’s his signature on your body.
the older itoshi brother would be lying if he said he didn’t miss you, your body, your kisses. the way you dreamily echo his name like it’s a prayer every time he angles his cock to hit your sweet spots. you find his hands within the messy sheets, the slickness of your heat making it easier for sae to grind himself into you. he feels lightheaded with ecstasy, his grunts turning to deep rooted moans as he swoops down to kiss you with tongue — a poor attempt to silence your squeals since your girls are sleeping just down the hall.
the bed that you used to share betrays you, crying from underneath the languid push and pull of your bodies working together for orgasm. ex husband!sae is torn between capturing your teary face in the now and reminiscing all the times he’d fucked you or made love to you against these very sheets. the thought of your new boyfriend doing the same makes him hotter, makes him move faster — slurring and spitting his praises into your eager mouth as his balls clap against the curve of your ass and the crude mix of precum and your juices tie sae itoshi to you.
licking into his mouth, you lift a hand to curl into sae’s roots and tug hard in the way that he likes. “sae,” you mewl, breathless and bambi eyed. “feel s’fuckin’ good. hah! d-don’t stop, m-missed you!”
“don’t tell me what to do, ‘couldn’t stop even if you begged for it.” sweat beads on ex husband!sae’s forehead and he closes his eyes, hips stuttering even though they piston into yours. he can’t tell if you actually miss him or if it’s the sex that’s making you feel this way — and quite frankly, he’s in the same boat. he hooks your thighs over his shoulders and presses the entirety of his body over yours, putting all of his energy in to deep, long strokes that make you choke on your words and gush sweet and clear streams around the base of his throbbing cock.
“you feel me here, love?” your ex husband!sae, asks, magenta hair flopping over his eyes — his hips flush against your puffy clit as your juices pearl along side it. he gives you a rough thrust, fucking you like it’s your wedding night all over again and he hasn’t made the last few months of your life a living hell. like he loves you. “c’mon baby, pay attention. can’t believe you’re so shameless, letting me have you like this again. do you feel me?” sae presses down on your tummy where his thick dick bulges, the sensation making the whites of your eyes visible as they roll back into your skull.
you nod, delirious with desire, pussy trapping your ex husband inside of you. “y-yes, sae! f-feel you!”
“good, because i belong here, sweetheart,” ex husband!sae coos, an evil spark haunting his aquamarine eyes. “i’m the only one who ever gets to fuck you here. because no matter what happens — you’ll always be mine and i’ll always be yours.”
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