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shawnxstyles · 1 year

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panty stealer

DATE: JANUARY 14, 2023

summary: flash forces peter to sneak into the girls sorority and steal a pair of panties as a dare. stumbling into the nearest room to save himself from being caught, he doesn’t expect you to be there, and to let him steal the panties you’re wearing.

request: yes!

words: 5.1k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, oral], praise kink, slight dacryphilia kink, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, alcohol, mentions of weed, and a bit of fluff.

note: frat!peter x sorority!reader / peter masterlist / PART 2

—

“are you serious right now, flash?” peter groans with a pinch to his nose. his eyes screw shut in annoyance at flash’s obnoxious behavior.

“of course i am, penis parker!” flash shouts, shoving peter towards the large, white sorority house. “you have to do the dare or else.”

peter groans again, hating himself for ever agreeing to do this stupid game with flash.

the night had started calm and for once, peter was grateful. friday nights were the craziest day at the frat house, but this week, everyone was a bit too busy with schoolwork. except flash apparently.

like all of his other roomies, peter loves a good party. he doesn’t mind thrashing his house every week if that means he can have fantastic parties at his place (okay, maybe he minds a little bit. it gets tedious cleaning up garbage after a while). he knows he won’t be young forever, so what the heck, right?

people never would have guessed that peter was the leader of the frat. shocking, right? everyone would assume it’s flash for his obnoxious and party boy persona or brad for his attractiveness and charm. but what do those qualities have to do with being a leader? everyone else (besides those two) agreed that peter should be the head of the house because he is responsible and smart, unlike those boneheads.

peter often asked himself if he was attractive and if he had charm.

he did, right?

brad was good with the ladies. one glance and a wink made the girls melt into puddles at his feet. every morning when peter woke up early to go to class, a different woman would waltz down the stairs with a glowing, uncontrollable smile in nothing but a t-shirt. peter knew without a doubt that every one-night stand that stumbled down was brad’s; it was rarely flash or the others and ned had a girlfriend who was in the sorority across from us.

peter hooked-up once in a while. he found it more difficult to be like brad when he had college to concentrate on and lives to save inbetween it all. being spider-man in high school was overwhelming at first because it was impossibly hard to hide it. but now, having more freedom in college made everything a bit simpler. just a bit.

flash being spider-man’s “#1 fan!” still made him chuckle every time it came up.

speaking of flash, when peter stumbled through the door in the evening expecting a chill friday night, flash just had to crank up the energy. as per usual.

“what is this?” multiple bottles of liquor were splurged across the dining table when peter walked into the kitchen. flash crossed his arms with a huge smirk plastered onto his face, while ned looked concerned and stressed.

“i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” ned shook his head in disappointment before walking away to his room.

“we’re having a party. it’s friday, penis,” flash said with an obvious tone. peter could easily have him removed from the frat, being the leader and all. yet he still keeps him here. why must he do this to himself?

“flash, i said no parties today. everyone is tired and stressed, and has a lot of work to do—”

“stressed? i think that’s the best reason for a party. you need to get laid, my brotha,” brad interrupted with an arm around peter’s shoulders and a firm pat to his buff chest. brad is way taller than peter, which some might think intimidates him. but peter is mainly intimidated by intelligence, and brad had the iq of a stick.

peter rolled his eyes at the predictable statement. flash rambles on about how parties are a tradition on friday nights and peter sharply cuts him off with a strict tone.

“ugh, fine! no party, party-pooper parker. but we will be drinking tonight. or else i’m sending an invite to 50 people.”

—

peter had no choice but to comply. flash, ned, brad, himself, and the other boys are seated on the furniture with the drinks displaced in the center. flash gave peter an ultimatum; play truth or dare or he rings the entire sports program of a party. peter growled and folded.

soon later, there is a sharpie drawing on flash’s ass, a ruler that measured brad’s dick, a flushed ned from downing too many denied truth shots, and laughter bubbling throughout the whole room. peter is the only one who hasn’t gotten asked anything yet and he honestly feels a bit left out. but he also just wants to do his homework and then go to sleep.

“what’ll be, penis parker?” flash inquires with a mischievous look on his face. “truth or dare? or should i say drink or dare?”

peter, not caring at the time, chose dare. “dare.”

“oh, you’re so in for it.”

—

so in all, peter was basically held against his own will to sneak into the girl’s sorority house. even though he denied the dare profusely and took three shots to make up for it, flash still dangled the party invites over his head like an iron weight waiting to drop.

peter snarled as flash nudged him again impatiently. he thought of an idea that might work. peter would have to do this dare, but would he have to do it alone?

“if you come with me, i’ll give you $50 bucks—” peter sells with raised eyebrows. he licks his lips as the cold breeze rustles the trees and sends slight shivers up his arms. the sky is pitch-black as the heavy clouds cover all the stars. peter felt a storm brewing and he really didn’t want to sneak into the sorority soaking wet.

“pfft, parker, please. i have enough money—”

“—in weed.” peter finishes, causing flash to halt his words. peter knows that flash can never find a good supply because he complains about it all the time. marijuana wasn’t legal on campus, let alone in the state. the trade had the cogs turning in flash’s head.

“alright, deal,” flash gives in and elbows peter as a form of agreement. then flash motivates brad and ned to join, heading straight for the zone as a group.

their goal was to grab a pair of underwear and leave without being caught. as spider-man, that should be easy, right?

—

for some odd reason, the back door was unlocked. you’d think girls would be more secure and observant than guys, but maybe they forgot. after hopping over the trimmed gardening hedges, the four boys crept through the door and into the kitchen.

unlike peter’s frat, the sorority girls had two big rules that they made known to everyone; no hook-ups allowed and no frat guys. ever. the girls didn’t throw parties like peter, they only went to them, so their place was like a holy sanctuary.

when the guys tiptoed into the kitchen, peter wasn’t surprised the place was damn-near spotless. most of the interior was pearly white; couches, love-seats, tables, counter, cabinets— it was like walking into an insane asylum with minor color accents.

it was at least midnight by now, so the girls had to be asleep. tiptoeing as silent as possible up the stairs, peter leads until they’re all standing in the middle of the large hallway with rapid, contained breaths. flash, being the scaredy-cat he is, follows last and nervously trips over the final step. he slips, tumbling down multiple levels with nosy thuds and bangs of his elbows and knees. all of the guys sprout wide eyes and strained, silent gestures to warn him to stop falling and making an absurd amount of noise.

peter gets goosebumps, hair rising on his skin as he gets a shiver down his spine. his hearing intensifies, picking up mumbled whispers and light footsteps with his spider sense. his eyes wander frantically as he scatters his brain for an idea. nothing comes to mind fast enough, as a door down the hall creaks open. brad and ned drag flash up the stairs, but freeze when they hear the door. out of instinct, peter sprints to the nearest door, slyly slipping inside. he closes the door gently, contradicting the pounding of his heart, without a noise being made. he releases a sigh as his forehead rests on the doorframe.

“what are you doing?” peter nearly shrieks when you casually question him. he stares at you, eyes impossibly wider than before. your arms are crossed as you sit on the side of your bed. peter swallows harshly, gazing at your appearance.

your legs look smooth and supple, and very much bare. he assumes you have underwear on under the t-shirt you’re sporting, and is proved correct when you shift to dangle your legs off the bed. his eyes are drawn to the small sight of your panties that tease underneath your shirt. you smirk, arms still crossed as you let him check you out.

“i-um-uh,” cheeks wildly red, he swallows and averts his eyes to the ground. how does he explain such a stupid thing without sounding like a jackass? i was dared to invade the sorority house. sorry. oh, also, can i have your panties? “it was a dare.”

“to sneak into my room?” your head tilts as you lift yourself off the bed and stalk towards him. peter’s cheeks grow redder while his heart pounds brutally in his chest.

besides the embarrassment flowing like blood through his veins, you were the simple kind of gorgeous that made his knees weak. the kind that is stunning in their own skin and that radiates beautiful energy like magical fairy dust. and peter nearly fainted when he saw your lack of clothes.

he’s seen you many times before; you share a class with him and came to some of his parties. he never talked to you in fear of rejection, but now he doesn’t really have a choice.

usually, he has more confidence with girls, but this is a very unfortunate situation where he lost every skill he’s ever known. even talking.

“no—” ear-piercing screams interrupt peter’s stuttering from the other side of the door. footsteps run all over the wooden floor as low profanities leave the guys’ mouths. “i think she found them.”

“you think?” you clip with raised eyebrows. peter inhales, losing some of his anxiousness at his thoughts of the boys being caught.

poor ned. betty’s going to kill him.

flash deserved it, though.

brad is probably getting one of their numbers.

peter shakes his head and sets his thoughts straight.

“okay, look. flash dared me to do this… stupid thing and i convinced them all to do it with me. i wanted to do nothing but relax tonight,” peter admits with a stressed exhale. you glare at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what has him so worked up. it’s not like he got screamed at and kicked out like the other guys. knowing some of your roomies, they might be a lot worse than just kicking them out. you get closer to him and ponder what he said.

“what was the dare, parker?” you shoot a harsh glare at him, daggers that force him to answer. your head tilts with curiosity as your heartbeats sporadically. you’ve never had a guy in your room before, and for that first guy to be peter parker has your heart bouncing around your chest like a boomerang. you’ve had your eye on peter for a few months now; not crazy obsessive, but you won’t deny the blood-rushing crush you’ve grown for the frat boy.

how did you stumble that low? a frat boy? jeez.

peter can’t be too shocked that you know his name, let alone his last name, but you saying it still causes him to forget some of the words on his tongue. many shouts are heard from outside the door, but your chests are nearly touching as you gaze up at him and then the outside world is practically silenced.

“i had to steal some… panties,” he mumbles, voice low and quiet. why does it sound so dirty?

“panties?” you repeat in a hushed voice as your surprised eyes blink a few times. you swallow, clit beginning to throb at the word out of his mouth.

“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “do you have any that i can…borrow?”

your mind hazes at his question. you tried to remember where your underwear was and if it was clean. but as a clear opportunity lies in front of you, you decide to run with it. you look down with a racing heart, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.

“i…i have these ones,” you lightly ball up your t-shirt, revealing your laced panties to peter. he quietly coughs, cock starting to harden behind the zipper of his jeans. you glance up at his reddening expression through your eyelashes, devilish eyes hiding behind an innocent facade. confidence and lust ease your anxiety. “will these work?”

“um, yeah,” peter coughs again as rosy embarrassment crawls up his neck and blood rushes to his cock. you strut over to the mattress, rocking your hips teasingly, and peter instinctively follows with his heart in his throat. you lie on your back and spread your legs, arousal dripping from you at every movement. peter watches from a side angle, holding his breath as the tension rises.

“well, you’re not much of a panty-stealer if i just give them to you. come and steal them, parker,” you say with as much confidence as you could muster up. your heart was so loud in your ears you almost couldn’t hear yourself. speechless, peter walks to the front of the bed and kneels down, eye-level with your pussy.

he crumples the shirt over your hips, your legs automatically spreading wider. his senses heighten and pick up on the scent of your arousal. a small patch of it can be seen in the middle of your underwear, sending painful pulses down to his forever hardening cock. his thumbs dance around the laced hem, teasing you to see how much he can go.

he would say some of his confidence is back now.

he hooks his fingers under the band, sliding the flimsy fabric down while sticky arousal slings to you. he stuffs the damp material in his back pocket. both of your hearts rack and hands tremble at the extreme intensity, waiting for someone to do something. anything.

peter decides to be that person and resumes his fingers to your hips where the hem used to be. your folds glisten with pent-up arousal, just begging for him to touch you. your puffy clit throbs, neglected, and your thighs subtly spasm trying to remain open. peter grinds on his molars, nearly moaning at the glorious sight. his rough pads trace your smooth skin as he drags lower, dangerously close to where you’re yearning for him.

“peter,” you whisper, holding your breath, so you don’t move a muscle, even though they’re involuntarily shaking with need. he hums, the dirtiest thoughts flowing through his mind. “d-don’t you have to go? what if you get caught?”

“i can spare a few minutes…” his gaze is hazy and distracted, voice gravelly with lust. you clench desperately around nothing as you quietly plead for him to do something. his thumb tests the waters and finally begins circling on your clit, sending electricity up your body. you yelp at the sudden pressure, naturally grinding your hips for more friction. “hmm? don’t you want me to spend a few minutes with you?

his words are taunting and condescending, making your mind go blurry while the words disintegrate from your tongue. the rough pad of his thumb rubs faster while you clench around nothing again, chest heaving.

“i want more than a few minutes,” you moan as his middle finger pets along your soaking slit, teasing you painfully until your eyes roll back. you can sense the smirk growing on his face based on the satisfied hum he responds with.

“more? greedy girl,” peter slides his middle finger into you without warning causing you to release a long string of moans. “shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you? then we’ll both get caught.”

you shake your head.

“then be a good girl and be quiet for me,” peter demands softly. you nod shakily, as another finger pumps into you rapidly. he thrusts brutally into you, fingertips brushing over your g-spot. you melt as bliss laces throughout your body.

“it’s always the quiet ones who are the loudest,” a devilish and dirty smirk dances on his lips while your teeth sink painfully into your bottom lip. you slap your palm over your mouth to remain quiet as thrilled moans threaten to pour out of you. your revolving hips are halted by his strong forearm, allowing him to curl his digits deliciously into you. you mewl with screwed eyes, back arching at the immense pleasure.

“i’m so close, peter,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder your moans will betray you and alert the whole neighborhood. peter subtly grinds his hips into the front of the mattress, cock dangerously hard from your whimpering and whining.

“can i taste you? been dying to since you opened your legs for me,” peter asks while your thighs tremble and your pussy contracts tightly around his digits. you mumble out a shuddery please before his mouth is devouring you.

he never removes his fingers, pumping ruthlessly while his mouth explores your slippery folds. he sucks harshly on your throbbing clit, a muffled wail escaping through your hand. warm and soothing, his tongue glides curiously and sneaks into your undeniably soft cunt. the moan you release is unholy and way too loud. at least right now.

peter wants nothing more than to hear your sweet, sweet moans crying his name while he makes you come in several different ways. but tonight was not the night. he wasn’t trying to get reported and have intruder as a new notch on his belt.

he had a good feeling you wouldn’t run off and report him though.

the idea of it all got him off much more than he would have ever thought. and looking at you, he could say that same.

his mouth plops off of you, lips swollen and puffy from sucking.

“come all over my tongue. let me taste you, sweet girl,” his tone is euphonious and seductive, yet demanding. his fingers savagely thrust into your seeping hole that clenches tightly around him. your back arches off the mattress as your thighs shake from the upcoming euphoria.

peter’s words send your body into overdrive. your muscles contract and your stomach tightens as your orgasm ripples through your body like a heavenly wave. cum oozes out of you and onto his tongue, slurping up every ounce of your juices until there is nothing left.

“such a good girl,” peter praises while he licks away your arousal from his rosy lips. heat crawls up your neck at your sudden vulnerability. you attempt to close your legs to hide, but he keeps them spread with his rough hands. “you’re going to hide yourself after i just ate you out? we’re just getting started, baby.”

peter pulls his shirt off deliberately, showcasing his bulky abs and muscles that made your clit pulse with desire again. he looks like he was man-made, a real-life sculpture with chiseled muscles and perfectly ridged abs. you were insatiable to this man, who snuck into your room to steal something— you should be mad at him. furious. but when his boxers fall down his legs, only dirty and needy emotions and thoughts are left.

your eyes widen at his impressive length; you’ve only been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. you were scared, yet excited to feel his cock stretch you out sinfully. you imagined how long you would feel him inside of you afterwards, soreness like a good workout at the gym.

“you’re so big,” you mumble, not hiding the fact that you were blatantly eyeing his raging cock with hunger, fear, and lust.

“it’ll fit. don’t worry, doll,” he hovers over you, smoothing your hair away from your worried eyes. “do you have a condom?”

you stretch out your arm into your night stand, blindly grabbing a tin-foiled package. you seductively rip it with your teeth, causing peter to groan in impatience. he snatches it away from you and swiftly slides it onto his sturdy cock.

“such a fucking tease,” he hisses, running the tip of his cock along your folds, which were already soaked in arousal again. “are you ready?”

you nod your head surely, more than ready for him to fill you up.

“you’re one to talk,” you sass, rolling your eyes, which were no longer as worried, but full of needy anticipation. he huffs out a single chuckle, eyes strained on his dick rubbing around your wetness tediously.

“speaking of talking, don’t,” peter thrusts into you savagely, making you gasp and shriek. your hand immediately goes to his shoulder for leverage, nails digging desperately into the meat of his skin. the other tightens securely onto your mouth to keep quiet, even though it’s probably useless now.

hoarse profanities fall from his lips as he shifts around your snug hole. your velvety walls choke his cock so fucking good, he doesn’t think he’ll last any longer. and then you clench even tighter around him, sending peter’s eyes rolling back into brain.

“you’re so fucking tight,” peter groans in your ear, flicking his hips upwards into you. your body trembles in overwhelming pleasure, muffled whines begging to be released.

slapping skin and hushed moans fill the air. peter fits a hand between the two of you and rubs your throbbing clit perfectly. his lips travel down from your ear to your neck, kissing along your skin. his tongue discovers your soft spot, sucking harshly until you’re clutching onto him for dear life.

“you’re so good, peter. so deep, too, oh god,” you can’t help the lusty wail that tumbles from your raspy throat when he rapidly rolls his hips, repeatedly touching your sensitive g-spot. he growls at the praise, every action being intensified by the comment. you notice this and smile with a hint of devilishness behind it.

“you may be smiling now,” peter pants, muscles popping and flexing from the position. “but you’ll be crying soon.”

if possible, his thrusts got harder. and deeper. and faster. he was pounding into your cunt like there was no tomorrow, buckets of arousal leaking from you and all around him. peter would pull his cock fully out just to slam it back in, and it made you wither away into another dimension. his balls beat against you harshly with every brisk thrust of his body. his skilled thumb pets your clit, electrifying all your nerves into blissful flames.

there was so much to feel; the biting of his kisses on your neck, the rough texture of his thumb pad on your clit, the long, thick length plunging barbarically into you, and the heaviness of his weight above you. you were so overwhelmed by the pleasure, water brimmed at your tear ducts. soon, full-blown tears are streaming down your face from the euphoria running through your veins.

that familiar wicked smile curls on peter’s face with your appearance; wild hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful in front of him.

his cock twitches when you whimper loudly underneath the palm of your hand, begging to let you come. contracting on his shaft, your nails stab his shoulder blade until crescent moon marks appear. a strangled moan leaves him when your body rolls up towards him, back arching harshly.

“need to come. so bad, peter,” you whine. his name from your lips drives him mental.

“fuck, y/n,” he sighs heavily. “come around my cock like the good girl you are.”

with those words, your second orgasm tumbles through your body like a thunderstorm. peter slams his lips against yours to keep you quiet, all your pent-up moans turning into needy hums in your throat. stars spot in your vision and you thought you might pass out from being fucked into oblivion. you wouldn’t even be mad— it was worth it.

summoning all your energy, your muscles tense as the liquid floods out of you. your back arches, making your bare breasts push up against peter’s chest. at the same time, peter comes with a string of curse words against your plush lips. he shoots his load into the condom, balls tightening while his eyes screw shut. he steadies his pumps and slowly pulls out of you, never wanting to leave.

you whimper at the emptiness, already missing his cock. he ties the knot and tosses it into the garbage under your desk. peter slips into his boxers and immediately finds the small box of tissues on your night stand. grabbing a few, he cleans you delicately like an antique doll as if he didn’t just ravish your body and soul.

you were beyond dumbstruck as he wiped you up. the few people you have been with never stayed long enough for aftercare, and even though it should be a necessity, the action still made your heart lurch for peter. speaking of your heart, it was beating a mile a minute. sex was a physical activity, yet having a huge crush on someone felt a lot more physically demanding. but you really liked the feeling.

a million thoughts brisked through your head; how does he feel? does he feel the same? did he hate it? did he love it? you shake your head. if you didn’t stop yourself, you would ruin any chance you might have by overthinking too much.

when you refocus your eyes to the moment, peter has his jeans fully on and his shirt in his hand. he slides it on and then looks at you worryingly, seeming as though you’re still naked and haven’t moved.

“are you okay? did i go too hard? fuck—”

“yes—i mean no! shit,” you stutter after interrupting him and close your eyes in embarrassment. “yes, i’m fine. i’m more than fine. that was… really good, peter. like really good.”

peter’s tensed shoulders relax as his face melts from a concerned expression to a soft one. you slip your large t-shirt on and stand up from your bed. your legs are a bit unbalanced and wobbly, and peter can’t help but chuckle as he holds you steady by your hips.

“stop laughing! you did this!” you whisper-yell with a faked angry face.

“oh, i know. next time, i’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, let alone stand,” he winks with an arrogant smile cascading his lips. familiar heat creeps up your neck and ears, making you all tingly inside at the idea of a next time with peter.

“next time?” large rings of hope surround your irises as you stare into peter’s. his arrogance slightly fades as he itches with nervousness.

“yeah, if that’s what you want, of course,” why is he holding his breath? why is his heart beating so unhealthy fast?

“if i say yes, does that mean you’re going to try to steal my panties again?” you try to hold back your grin as you joke, peering up at him with squinted eyes.

“are you going to let me steal your panties again?” he clicks his tongue with his all too familiar smirk. he loves your playful demeanor and your attempts to withhold a smile.

you pretend to think, really debating. peter can’t help but stare at you in awe. you were beautiful, and he regrets not approaching you earlier because you were… well, he didn’t really know you yet, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. even if you told him to fuck off and never to see him again, he knew that he would never forget you or this night.

you push yourself closer to peter, chest to chest. you can both feel the rapid beating of your hearts through your shirts. however, you stand, gazing confidently at peter. he watches you as you lean right in like you were going to kiss him.

“mm maybe. you might just have to find out yourself,” your breathy words linger on his lips as you back away and casually get into the bed. you unfold the comforter and tuck yourself in, like you didn’t just give peter a semi-hard on in his pants.

suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside, alerting both of your heads to peer out through the window.

“my car!” flash cries so high-pitched and whiny, he probably woke up the entire neighborhood. peter isn’t surprised that one of the sorority girls destroyed his car because he deserved it. someone needed to humble him anyway. you both laugh behind the palm of your hands at flash’s girly scream.

with that, peter realizes that he has to go and that he no longer has any minutes to spare. flash, brad, and ned probably weren’t worried about peter while they were out-running the girls. but now that the girls had done the damage, the boys would soon realize peter’s absence.

“better hide your panties. this isn’t over,” peter walks over to the side of your bed and kisses your forehead delicately. he cracks open the window, turning to you with half his body out. with a wink from him and a gasp from you, he jumps down the two-story window without hesitation. your heart flutters at his gentle kiss that lingers on your skin, fingers pressed against the spot his lips last touched.

rain begins to splash on the glass as sprinkles of water drip into your room through the open window. you purposefully don’t close it, even when you know the carpet will get soaked throughout the night. you welcomed the idea that if peter wanted to come back, he could, simply by sneaking through the window the same way he left.

so many other thoughts cloud your mind, making you lie wide awake. you wondered if his heart was still thumping hastily like the rain pattering on your window and onto your floor. you wondered what he looked like when he was drenched in natural rain water. probably breathtakingly beautiful; soaking wet hair and a childish smile adorning his rosy face while he laughs wholeheartedly.

as you roll over to turn off your lamp with a wistful sigh, you remember that you never even got his number. while trying to guess which set of numbers fit peter parker the best, you fall asleep with a yearning heart, flapping its wings adoringly in your chest.

oh, god, you were down. and it was bad.

what you didn’t know was that peter was down too, but even worse than you.

—

tags: @raajali3

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propertyofwicked · 25 days

Text

speed demon - LN

warnings: speeding + dangerous driving, references to sex

short fluff :) fewtrell!reader -> can be read as a stand alone or an extra to the secrets series!

my take on a BTS of the quadrant athletes video with willne and bambinobecky :) p.s hey caitlin i know ur reading this

lando’s girlfriend was a concerning driver. growing up in the english country side, especially with her racing-mad brother max, she became very accustomed to driving at insane speeds down backroads, learning where the swerve potholes and where all the cameras were. honestly, put her in an f1 car with a good song and watch max verstappen crumble.

her brother and his friend could speed around race tracks, y/n preferred real roads.

the only flaw in her driving ability arose when lando, who notoriously hates being a passenger, sat to her left, gripping any hard surface he could as his girlfriend threw her car around a corner.

“y/n, angel, you know i love you - but why do you drive like you had somewhere to be 10 minutes ago?”

“this is a good song,” she answered with a shrug, which only confused him further, yet she slowed down, glancing at the man besides her, “it’s got a good bassline. you literally drive at like 200 miles an hour and yet you’re getting stressed about me going 80 on an empty road?”

“the difference between you and me is that i wear a helmet when i drive that fast.”

“no one is stopping you from putting a helmet on in my car, lan.”

“erm, i think the national speed sign meaning 60mph should be enough that i shouldn’t need to wear a helmet in your car y/n.”

“god you’re so dramatic, lando - has anyone ever told you that?”

“yes. you. the last time i complained about your driving, you little speed demon,” he said, finally laughing quietly at the situation.

in fact, they were late. they were supposed to be at a quadrant shoot in 10 minutes, but still needed to pick up will and becky from the station near to the warehouse they were filming in. when they finally reached the station, lando jumped out of the car to meet them, leaving y/n to sit in silence, queuing a few songs for the short journey to the shooting location.

“y’alright y/n?” will asked, climibing into the back seat of her car, becky climbing in from the other side.

“i’m good, thank you will. how are you?”

“im good, however i’ll let you know how i feel after ive experienced your driving,” he joked, earning a guilty chuckle from lando who was buckling himself back into the passenger seat. her hand rose, slapping his arm lightly.

“hey! my driving is not that bad.”

“let them find that out for themselves, angel,” he responded, dramatically rubbing his arm, feigning pain. she ignored him, shoving the car into gear before jamming her foot onto the accelerator, the loud engine loud enough to wake the dead.

when they did arrive at the shoot, will had gone silent, his face paler than usual. becky was still smiling and chatting, but her face conveyed the same level of fear as wills. the group of them walked into the warehouse, where max was already waiting.

y/n walked up to max, taking him in a small embrace before stepping back to let him greet the rest of the group.

“will? you good man? you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” max said, taking a step back to look at the man a second time.

“yeah, yeah, im good,” he responded, smiling sheepishly. y/n absentmindedly played with her car keys, the jingling of her key rings raising max’s attention.

“lando let you drive? jesus, no wonder will looks like he needs a fresh pair of trousers,” max laughed, doubling over.

“why does everyone think im such a bad driver? i have not crashed once. never. not a single crash. the same cannot be said for you or lando, max,” she exclaimed, beginning to feel offended at the accusations.

“in all fairness, lando warned me. i thought he was joking when he said she loved the accelerator more than she loves him,” will replied, the colour coming back to his face as he smiled. max shook his head at his sister again, before directing will and becky round to the sofas, running them through the plans for the day.

y/n felt a warm pair of arms snake around her body from behind, lando’s head coming to rest on her shoulder. he turned his head to look at her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

“im not actually a bad driver, am i?” she mumbled to him.

“no angel, people are just jealous of your sheer ability to drive at dangerous speeds and do it safely,” he responded, he meant to be sincere but y/n could feel the sarcastic undertones.

she shook her head at him, pulling away from his embrace, but his hand reached out, latching onto hers, before pulling her back into him. this time her chest melted into his, her head tilting to glance up at him.

“i hate this scarf,” she announced, but stretched her neck up to presses soft kisses along his jaw.

“ouch. why? i like it.”

“’cos it covers your neck. i love your neck,” she said, smiling up at him again.

“i know you do angel. your love for my neck is the reason i have to wear a scarf for the shoot today,” he said, laughing, his hands moving from her back to push loose strands of her behind her ears. a blush rose up her cheeks at the memory of the night before, as her fingers moved to pull the scarf down slightly looking at the bruises beginning to darken on his skin.

she hadn't meant to, but she had found herself on top of him last night, legs straddling him as his pushed up into her. with max only a room over, she needed to find an outlet for the noises she wanted to make and his neck fell victim.

“whoopsies. but im sure the lando girlies would love to see you with hickies.”

“i’m sure they would,” he said, grinning at her still and nodding slightly, “im sure your brother would love it to,” he added sarcastically, glancing over to the man in question who was now handing becky a script.

she tutted in response, pulling his scarf back up to covering his neck. lando’s head tilted down to look at her again, using his hands on her jaw to pull her face up closer to his. his lips pressed soft kisses to her forehead and cheeks before finally planting a soft but quick peck to her lips.

“lando did you want to stop getting it on with my sister and come and do your job?” max bellowed from across the room, pulling the two apart.

lando decided he should probably drive the two of them home that day, and let max take the others back to the station, but the moment the car moved off from where it was parked, he stalled the engine.

"formula 1 driver but can't drive a manual without stalling it. that's embarrassing - now who can't drive?" she joked, laughing at him as he restarted the ignition.

"still you," he replied bluntly, his foot slamming down on the accelerator sending the car flying across the car park.

"please don't destroy my car," she begged quietly at the sound of her engine about to take off, "a man i quite like bought it for me and id hate to make him angry when he has to buy me new tyres."

"ill just buy you another car," he joked as he returned to the speed limit of the road ahead, his hand moving from the gear stick to rest on her thigh, grabbing lightly at it.

"you're not a bad driver, you know that, don't you angel?" he said after a few minutes of silence. he'd admit that she wasn't the best driver, but she was still skilled even if slightly reckless.

"i know," she said, her voice still heavy with the annoyance from everyone's teasing.

"you would be great at karting, you know?"

"stop it - i spent my entire childhood trying to avoid karting please do not bring it into my adulthood," she begged, albeit jokingly.

"why did you avoid it? im sure max would've loved to race with you," lando asked, glancing to his side to look at her face, her head leaning on the door panel.

"it was max's thing, i guess. i didn't want to do what he did. i wanted to be my own person. i still do," she said with a shrug. lando's hand moved from her thigh to grab hers, pulling it up to his face to press a kiss to the back of it.

"i'm glad you're unapologetically you. i don't think i could cope with two max's in my life. or two of you for that matter."

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #maxfewtrell #fewtrell!sister

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periprose · 11 months

Text

Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms.

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you.

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says.

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him.

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask.

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one.

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity.

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs.

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday.

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

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moonrisecoeur · 4 months

Text

adoration — leon kennedy

author’s note: this is absolutely disgustingly horrifically soft. not my usual content but i hope you like it! also to anyone who doesn’t follow me i don’t usually write sub!reader so please don’t request it!

wc: 2.3k

content: leon x reader, fem!reader, not really sub or dom tho i guess it leans more towards dom!leon but it’s super soft, so many pet names, lots of praise, lots of compliments, possessiveness, leon’s down bad but we already knew that, work stress, a little bit of reader being insecure about her looks, riding, unwrapped p in v sex, boyfie leon !!

—

“there you are,” his voice is gentle just like him. he smiles as he embraces you in a sweet hug, wondering why the universe was so cruel as to pull you away from him for so long every single day. he wishes he could stay right next you, arms wrapped around you, head resting against yours, never letting you go.

he’s only a little possessive, in a cute way rather than a unnerving way. he just likes being with you too much to ever be content when you’re not around.

the best part, in his opinion, is how you hold him back. arms around his waist, mumbling to yourself more so than leon about how much you miss his hugs, “awh, it’s okay, honey. know you missed me,” he teases, and it’s so blatant that out of the two of you, he’s the one who’s down bad, absolutely gone. he’s lucky that you’re not super greedy because he would give you anything you asked for.

your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck is more than enough to make him adore you for the rest of eternity. he reaches a hand up to your face, and watching your head tilt up to sweetly meet his gaze has to be the most deadly thing you’ve ever done. he feels physically giddy as you look at him curiously, wondering if he has someone to say as his fingers caress your cheek and jawline. soft skin beneath his rough fingers. he adores you. endlessly.

“so pretty…” he mumbles, sweet nothings murmuring their way past his lips as his hands cup your cheeks so he can hold you and look at you head on, blue eyes taking in every feature on your sweet face. he can’t help but love it all. he loves your face, he would stare at you for hours if you wouldn’t think it’s weird. he breathes in, inhaling your scent, so recognizable it’s comforting, “my pretty girl, mine all mine.”

you sigh comfortably, melting into him and his touch. it’s alright; he’s got you. he always does.

he leans to press a kiss to your forehead, “all mine..” he whispers again, like he’s reassuring himself, “want you all to myself. hate it when you’re gone.”

you giggle, a little bit breathless. he can tell his own effect on you and it strokes his ego wildly. he knows you secretly love his more possessive side, enjoying that he can’t even be bothered to look at another woman without being reminded about how much he loves and adores you. you’re his baby! he couldn’t ever want someone else!

“can i have you all to myself?” he asks, lips trailing down to your ear.

“mhm,” you hum, nodding your head cutely, and he can’t help the way he absolutely crumbles. god he’s really losing it, you’re absolutely everything to him. you’re too precious for him to ever let go.

“i love you,” he whispers as he kiss your jaw, your face still cradled in his hands like you’re too fragile for him to ever let you go.

“i love you too,” you whisper back. that’s all he’d ever need from you: your love. he could want a million things, but this moment tells him the truth. he’s yours. completely, and helplessly yours.

one hand still steady on holding your face, smiling as you lean more into his touch, his other hand dips back down, over your waist and hips and between your thighs in a way that aches so pleasantly. it’s impossible to tell when exactly you got so wet from this completely normal interaction but he notices too and he’s already too confident. it’ll go to his head at this point. oh well. you’d get back at him another time to bring him back down to earth.

“oh, pretty girl, i can tell my words are affecting you…” he says softly. he says it like it’s a question but he already knows the answer, “but…. if you need something, you can tell me.”

his voice is the only thing you can sensibly hear right now, everything else drowned out with his strong arms holding you close. the way you pout makes his heart race because god you are so adorable that it kills him.

“baby, if you need me to do something, you gotta let me know. i’m not a mind reader,” his voice, thick and syrupy, seeps into your skin and drives you mad with a need to be his. in all ways humanly possible.

and for him to be yours too. you know that this is all an act, that every moment so far in this interaction has been real but with an undertone that you both can easily sense. you control leon in all the ways that matter. you mold him into exactly what you want, and he contorts himself willingly because he wants to be everything you want and need in a man. he’s yours just as much, if not infinitely more, as you’re his.

“can you praise me..?” you whisper, soft and timid. even if you’re not normally the shy type, it all seems to come crumbling down when leon holds you close.

“that’s my girl,” he smiles. sure, he could tease you more, especially with how nonspecific your request was. but you’re desperate and he’s too soft on you to make you wait any longer, “pretty and sweet and all mine.”

even as you huff, muttering something trying to push back against his words. i’m not actually that pretty, or something like that, leon’s shaking his head, in disbelief that a being as ethereal as his lover could ever, even for a moment, believe themselves to be unattractive.

but this isn’t the moment. he can tell you don’t want a lecture on self love or positive self talk right now. it wouldn’t do any good to tell you that he thinks you’re beautiful if you wouldn’t believe it, so he just does as you ask like the obedient boyfriend he is. he’ll tackle that beast another time.

“my pretty girl, my good girl…” he whispers, hands cradling your head against his chest, fingers tendering brushing against your skin as you close your eyes and just let leon speak to you. he’s never been good with words until he fell in love with you, “so proud of you, sweetheart. you worked so hard, even with everything you got going on. my baby’s so strong, isn’t she?”

you nod even as he holds you, maybe just a little too emotional to respond any other way.

“but you don’t always gotta be strong, you can let your walls down when it’s just me, baby. i promise i’ll take care of you,” he whispers, lips pressed against your forehead again. and once he thinks he’s buttered you up enough, he mumbles something like, “tell me what’s bugging you, princess.”

“i… i don’t wanna go to work anymore…” you mumble against his shirt, and he’s looking at you like you’re the cutest thing in the world, “i hate working. just wanna be with you.”

he laughs heartily, and you can feel the vibrations against his chest. his presence just entices comfort, one of his hands resting atop your head, “i know, baby. i wanna be with you always too,” he says.

“it’s not fair..”

he pouts when you pout, the world just had to be so unfair, “i know it’s not. if it were up to me, you’d never work a day in your life, but… you know, unfortunately i’m not that rich.”

you chuckle, and he’s relieved he at least got that out of you.

he can’t help getting distracted, “god you’re so fucking pretty,” he mumbles, hands dropping down to your waist, holding you close like he’s preparing to never let go, “so beautiful, baby. and you’re so perfect,” he tilts his head to look at you, making dangerous eye contact again, face just inches apart, “you’re so… lovely. i could stay here with you forever.”

you smile softly and it lights up the room and his entire life. you hold him close like you never want to let him go, and he feels pretty little butterflies in his stomach.

he leans in to kiss you, finally, and one arm stays wrapped possessively around your waist, as if to steal you away from the rest of the world, and one hand reaches back up to cup your cheek. he kisses you sweetly, not too rough or aggressive, just enough to make you want to drown in his touch, his scent, his presence.

“leon..!” you gasp between kisses, and he’s never liked his name as much as he likes it when your lips say it.

he pulls away to search for any hint that you need him to stop, that your breathless whisper of his name was a plea for escape, and he doesn’t seem to find any. his eyes trail down to your lips again, as if taunted by them, “what do you need, baby?”

“you,” you whisper, your lips finding his neck, kissing him softly. he’s not sure when you exactly decided you would try to kill him but the way your lips feel against him is lethal in its own way.

“yeah? my baby need me?”

“mhm,” you smile, he feels it against his skin, “your pretty girl needs to feel as pretty as you think she is.”

and something pulls at leon’s heart at that little statement. it’s not sad or pitiful, nor is it said with a sad tone, but he wonders what it means to you. do you believe him when he calls you that? god, you have to, he’s too obsessed with you for it to even be questionable if he thinks you’re pretty.

he practically drags you to bed, sits down on the edge and pulls you onto his lap, fingers immediately between your legs, feeling that familiar wetness that he loves, pressing down on your clit with his thumb.

“good girl, just like that… grind on my hand, let yourself feel good,” he murmurs, “this is about you, so be selfish, baby. take what you want from me.”

he likes how needy you get because maybe, just maybe, that means you need him just as badly as he needs you. it soothes him, in a way.

“i’ll fill you up nice and full later, but for now… just sit here with me… just let me touch you, pretty, i’ll make you feel good.”

and you just curl up into him, holding onto his shoulder for support as takes every whine and moan and absolutely devours them. his fingers have gotten rougher over the years, but that roughness feels good when he’s rubbing figure eights on your clit, fingers moving in circular motions inside your pretty pussy, bringing you to closer orgasm sooner than you thought. he’s just that good.

“there you go, princess. just feel it all. just close your eyes… and feel me against you,” he whispers, “you’re so cute when you’re feeling good. well, you’re always cute, but you know what i mean.”

“leon…” your whiny voice is met with a chuckle from him.

“hm?”

“i’m gonna cum…” you mumble, resting your head in the crook of his neck again, must be your favorite spot.

he likes that you don’t ask permission because why would you? he’d never deny you, not pleasure nor anything else you want in life. no, you say it like a warning, like a don’t you dare stop kind of warning. he wouldn’t dare.

“c’mon, pretty. let yourself have it,” he mumbles, lips almost touching your ear, that’s how close they are.

leon’s selfish, he can’t help it. he makes you orgasm because he wants to give you pleasure, sure, but he’s also doing it because he loves watching you cum. not so much right now, with your head buried away, but he likes seeing your orgasm face, he likes that you shut your eyes tightly and your eyebrows furrow and your mouth hangs open just slightly. you’re so pretty when you cum.

if he’s being honest, he should have made you look at him when you came, but he knows you were feeling a little shy today so he didn’t push.

and the feeling of your cunt clenching on his fingers turns him on beyond belief. he feels the pressure of the orgasm, and he knows it’s a big one, so of course he helps you through it, fucking his fingers as deep as possible, loving the achy moans that escape your throat. you’re not super loud but you’re also right by his ear so he hears every gasp and moan and whimper as you cum for him. he adores you so painfully.

“there you go, good girl…” he whispers, cradling you close as you both fall back against the bed, holding each other as the wetness on his hand starts to dry but your body still pulses with a reminder of how much pleasure just flooded through you.

it’s almost too paralyzing to speak, and you make pretty little sounds as you shift to get comfortable that make leon’s heart jump. he holds your waist as you lay half on top of him.

he looks at your face, radiant with a comfortable glow you’ve been missing this whole time. in his arms, in your shared bed, it’s safe and soft and leon holds you close with no intentions of letting go.

“should we…” he starts, and you lift your head slightly to look at him as he speaks, “cancel our dinner reservations? order in, we’ll get whatever my sweet lover wants, and we can just stay in bed all night?”

you can’t help but giggle, “yeah. i wanna keep kissing you for at least another hour.”

“yes, ma’am.”

880 notes · View notes

silkscream · 4 months

Text

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

#megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fluff #megumi angst #megumi fic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

808 notes · View notes

marvellous1917 · 8 months

Text

Icarus Falling Far.

(Part 3)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: it’s the day after giving the dangerous mobster his first tattoo, and he hasn’t contacted you yet. What a dick.

Warnings: cursing, crime, mentions of guns, stalking/harassment (brief), think that’s it.

Word count: 3.6k ish

A/N: i had no plan to make this story into a mini-series, so if this seems a little unplanned… it is. Anyway, hope you like it my loves 😘

(This is not beta’s so any mistakes are my own)

Part 2 ⬇️:

———————

Bold is readers thoughts

Italics is Bucky's thoughts

This starts in Bucky’s POV.

———————

His home office was always the place he went to feel at peace. Ironic really, considering the dealings done within the room. The walls had seen him order his men to assassinate his rivals, to eliminate anybody that got in their way. The desk had felt the tip of the pen write extortionate contracts, sent silently to some of the cities most powerful people, the non-explicit threat sent with photos of their family’s, to reminds them what they were risking if they refused to comply. The window that felt the full strength of his prosthetic too many times to count. The hole in the floor after one of his employees managed to literally shoot himself in the foot. {guess who}

But his peace was teetering on a cliffs edge. His hands were woven into his hair, pulling to try and alleviate the headache forming. Elbows resting on his desk as his eyes stayed staring at one specific groove in the wood.

A knock at the door broke his trance and he sighed. It was a rule in the Compound that if the boss was in his office and the door was closed, you do not interrupt or enter unless there was an emergency. Only one man was brave enough to completely disregard Bucky’s rule, which had led to some… interesting situations when Bucky had girls in there with him.

“Come in,” he called, knowing the longer he waited to respond, the louder and more incessant the knocking would become.

The door opened and there was Bucky’s very own personal dumbass: Steve Rogers. The man had been a part of Bucky’s life since as long as he could remember, if-fact some of his earliest memories were with Steve; young boys playing cops and robbers together, attempting to protect Steve when he picked a fight he had no business being in- which had led to Bucky getting his ass beat as well, and scheming together about how to make sure that Simon Justin never played baseball again after pulling his sisters hair on the playground.

“Fuck me Buck, I’m not sure if today could have been anymore fucked,” Steve stated as he collapsed on to the couch, flinging his legs over one arm and resting his head in the other.

Today was a stressful fucking day.

It was the day that Bucky was making all necessary moves. Why all the problems had to pop up now, he wasn’t sure. And the kicker to this awful day? He had no time to talk to you, the girl he could not get out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. You’d managed to flood his mind, memories of the kiss you shared playing over and over again.

“Did you close the door?” Bucky asked, not moving an inch.

“Yeah.”

“Good because I do not need anyone else talking to me right now,” Bucky said, his voice low and quiet, an air of danger ever-present in his tone.

“C’mon Buck, y’know you love them,” Steve responds with a dopey little smirk on his face, and he tilts his head to make eye contact with the man he calls his brother.

I hate that fuckin smile.

He softly hums his agreement and returns to inspecting the groove on his desk.

“We just gotta talk it out, figure out what the fuck is going on, then plan our next moves accordingly,” Steve says, swinging his legs back to the floor, hands clasped together, his arms leaning on his knees.

“Yeah thanks man, I didn’t think about figuring everything out, maybe I’ll give that a go now” Bucky retorts with weak sarcasm, mind too busy, replaying the events of the day.

“I can leave you alone to get lost in your head, or we can figure this shit out together. It’s your call jerk.” Steve says, tilting his head down to catch Bucky’s eye.

“Alright.”

“Stop pulling your hair jackass.” He adds.

I hate it when you do that.

Bucky drops his hands to the desk and says, “Ok let’s start this debrief with Walker.”

“Nat’s got his ass tied up in the basement for ya, he’s ready when you are.”

“Anybody looking for him?”

“One frustratingly loyal friend, but he has no idea that Johnny-boy is with us. The rest of his little fan club have no idea he’s even missing.”

“Ok, one problem down. Rumlow?” It’s the question he doesn’t want the answer to. He’d much rather spend his time thinking about you. His history with Brock Rumlow was bloody and painful, for both of them. There was only one person from his past that Bucky hadn’t dealt with, and here he was, coming back to ruin the name Bucky had made for himself.

Rumlow knew things about Bucky’s past that made him a a high security threat, but after he failed to blow himself up in an attempt to kill Bucky, he had disappeared. Bucky thought it was finally over, but the asshole popped back up about a year ago, with more power than before, making himself seemingly untouchable by Bucky’s hand.

“Currently moving like he has been, not causing too much trouble for us, though his crew are getting closer and closer to our dealings at the port.” Steve said, a slight look of digits on his face.

“Put extra hands down there for the next couple weeks, see if we can’t scare them off a little.”

“Yes boss. I’ll let them know after this.”

“The commissioner’s dealt with?” Buck asks, remembering the deviation the man had decided to make.

“Yep, send him that gift basket. He called Sam this morning and agreed to our terms.”

“Good. How’s Barton?” He asks, moving into what they class as ‘personal business’.

“Pissed, man. He wants blood for what happened, we all do.” Steve answers, the memory of seeing Clint covered in blood and bruised made his blood simmer.

“We sure it wasn’t Rumlows’ lot, or fuck even Walker?

“Walkers’ fanclub do not have the brain cells, the power, or the information to organise an attack like that, and Parker tracked Rumlow and his men, all are accounted for and have alibis. This is someone new.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. Isn’t two power hungry assholes enough.

“We haven’t found anything? No security cameras, no cell tower pings?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair, resting his head on the back.

“Actually, I sent Scott there this morning to check out if there was anything left there and he found something.” Steve responds, some apprehension creeping into his voice.

That got Bucky’s attention. His head snapped back up and locked eyes with Steve who now stood in-front of his desk, pacing back and forth slightly.

“Care to share with the class Rogers?” His voice was hard now, his extreme dislike of not knowing all the information shining through.

Steve exhales sharply, biting his tongue to not retort and piss Bucky off more.

“He found a package tucked behind a dumpster addressed to ‘Bucky Barnes’ that had a memory stick-“

“Like a USB?” Bucky interrupted.

“- Yeah a USB-“ he gets cut off again.

“Then just say USB, calling it a ‘memory stick’ makes you sound 100 years old.”

“-oh dear god, you gonna let me finish?” Steve responds.

Bucky waved his hand at him, a sign for him to continue.

“Scott found a package addressed to you with a USB inside, we gave it to Stark ‘cos Parker was busy tracking down Rumlows crew, and he checked it out and told us it was completely normal, no virus or anything bad in it.”

“Was there anything on it?” Bucky asks, his brow furrowed.

“It..uh..has two pictures on it.” Steve said lowly.

“…of?”

“It’s probably better if I just show you.” Steve said, his tone of voice made Bucky a little nervous.

Steve took out his phone, tapped a couple of time before turning it around to give to Bucky. As soon as the latter had ahold of the phone, Steve took a full step back, which caused Bucky to raise his eyebrows in question.

“Just look.” He says in response to Bucky’s unasked question.

He looked down at the screen and almost immediately removed his left hand as to not break the phone.

Fuck. Shit.

The first picture was of the night he met you. It was taken through the window for you apartment, and clearly showed both you and Bucky, stood side by side, looking through your flash book.

“What the fuck is this?” He pushes out through gritted teeth.

“I assuming that’s the tattoo artist you told me about, the one you got a thing for?” Steve says.

The one I’m obsessed with.

When Bucky gives him a sharp nod, Steve just drops his head, suddenly fascinated with his shoes.

“Shit.” He says under his breath.

“What?” Bucky’s voice was louder now.

“Look at the next picture.” Steve says while avoiding eye contact.

Bucky looks down, his finger swiping to the next picture before he can think about it.

No. No no fuck. Not her.

The next photo was taken from inside the apartment. Inside your bedroom. It’s of you. Asleep. Completely unaware of the danger stood at the foot of your bed.

Bucky couldn’t look away, he was frozen staring at the picture. Your shorts and oversized tee had both ridden up slightly, showing how truly vulnerable you are. The clock on your table showed the time as 3:54 and showed the date.

“…this was taken this morning.”

“..yeah.”

fuck.

———————

Fuck Bucky Barnes.

The bastard hadn’t contacted you since the shop.

Bitch ass told me to keep my phone on so I wouldn’t miss his message, kept me glued to my phone like a weirdo waiting for him to call… and he didn’t. Dick.

Despite the annoyance at the very very attractive mobster, you couldn’t help wonder how he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking about you too.

You’re overthinking about Bucky was interrupted by a knock at your door.

“One sec!” You shout to whoever’s there, getting up and walking to the door. The second you undo the lock, the door is being pushed into your face with a chorus of greetings.

“Come in I guess,” you say to the three who just walked in.

“Well thanks darlin, you got food?” Billy responds, already making his way to the fridge.

“Don’t fucking eat my pizza Bill, I swear I’ll kill you,” you answer, giving both Frank and Curtis a hug, letting the door close behind them.

He laughs off your threat as the others take a seat on your couch.

“Not that I don’t love you guys, but why the fuck are you here?” You ask, moving back to the arm chair in the corner and taking a seat, your phone pinging in the back ground.

“What, we can’t pop in on you whenever we want?” Frank says, leaning back in the arm of the couch, moving to put his feet in the coffee table.

“Frankie if you put your feet on my table, I’m gonna beat you with a spoon.” You call at him.

He freezes and slowly lowers his feet back to the floor.

“We just wanted to come see how you were…Frank told us about Barnes.” Curtis says, cutting into the conversation and completely dampening the mood.

God-fucking-dammit Frank.

Oh fuck do I tell them that he’s not an issue and I actually quite like him.

“Yeah are you ok sweetheart?” Billy asks and he collapses on the couch in the middle of the other boys.

“I’m fine guys, I swear, like I told Frank he’s actually not bad,” you answer, shifting uncomfortable lay in your seat due to the indecision of how much to tell them, “He was nice, polite and kind of…charming, I guess-”

“Is that why you kissed him?” Frank interrupts.

Shit, how does he know?

“-what?”

“You kissed him. Or rather he kissed you but you seemed to enjoy it.” Billy says with an annoying smirk on his face.

“How do you know that?” You ask, shock still written all over your face.

“..the security cameras, kid. You forget about those?”

Ahh fuck.

“Ahh fuck,” you say out loud.

“What the hell are you doing making out with a mobster, Y/N?” Curtis responds, looking at you with those eyes of his that show he’s not judging, just trying to understand.

“I..uh..I wasn’t-really-thinking.” You put you hands on your head, even though Curtis wasn’t judging you, the other two definitely were.

“Obviously you weren’t, he’s a goddam mobster Y/N-” Billy starts, anger in his voice, but you cut him off.

“I know that Bill, ok, I do,” you say, shifting to place your feet on the floor, “but he’s not the animal you think he is, he’s kind and considerate and he makes me feel…” happy. you cut off before the last word, wanting to keep that realisation to yourself for a little longer.

“Plus you bastards can’t be judging me for meeting the guy twice, only yourselves and the devil knows what fucked shit you three have been up to.” You almost shout.

“The fuck does that mean?” Frank answers.

“C’mon Frank I’m not stupid, you three have some shady shit in your pasts. I mean you were goddam military for fucks sake, and don’t think I don’t see the fake payments on the books at the shop-“

“Stop Y/N.” Billy cuts you off. “Stop it now.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving yours.

You were about to respond to his demand, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Told you to keep you phone on.” A dark voice calls through the door.

Oh shit. No no no not now please not now.

“Who the fuck is that?” Frank asks, suddenly sitting up straight, eyes pinned on the door. Both Billy and Curtis stand, facing the door as if waiting for it to bust off it’s hinges.

“Please all of you, shut the fuck up and don’t do anything dumb,” you answer, moving towards the door.

“Is that him?” Curtis asks.

“Didn’t I just say shut the fuck up,” you retort a little snappier, opening the door slightly.

He cut his hair, it’s looks good on him.

Bucky lowers his arm from his thwarted attempt at a second knock and says, “Is your phone broken or are you ignoring me?” The smirk on his face made your heart beat a little faster.

“Neither, I just missed your text because I have some friends over right now,” you say.

“Is that why you’re not opening the door properly? I can barley see you,” he says with a grin.

“…kinda? Ok wait..” you exit your apartment, pulling the door closed fully behind you, “long story short, they know about the k.. uh about what happened at the shop, and they know who you are and they are not happy about it.”

His eyes darken and his smirk grows wider at the almost mention of the kiss. He shifts until he’s leaning his shoulder on the wall by your door.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t really matter what they think though, does it doll? Both you and I know how much you enjoyed it.” He says, mouth forming a cheeky grin.

Oh my god.

“Me? You’re the one who started it Bucky, seemed you enjoyed it more,” you respond, having no idea where the confidence came from.

He hums at your statement and says “Well I can admit that I did enjoy our kiss sweetheart, but I may need a little reminder of how it went, it’s been a long day you see.”

“Bucky-” you’re cut of by him stepping closer until your chests are barley touching, the new position making you tilt your head back to see him better.

“What darlin? You ok with this?” He asks slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

Why does he have to be so sweet.

You nod in answer to his question and he smiles. Not the terrifying grin or the cheeky smirk, but a genuine smile - one that makes him even more beautiful. Bucky raises his right arm, dragging his thumb over your lips and cupping your cheek while you stare up at him, his other hand sneaks around your back, pulling you flush to him.

“You have no idea what to do to me, do ya?” He mumbles, probably not intending for you to respond as he’s closing the gap between you. The kiss is harsh and a little messy, shocking you slightly with his apparent desperation, hands holding you tightly. He takes advantage of your shock, tracing your lips with his tongue and pushing past to deepen the kiss.

His hand drops from you face to your waist, gripping so tightly, you’re sure he’ll have left a bruise. That thought got you’re heart pumping faster, the idea that an imprint of his hands, his fingers would be left on your skin. It felt right. Bucky pushes you until your back hits the wall, hips fitting against yours almost perfectly, one leg sneaking between yours as you let a light whimper escape.

You break the kiss to get some air, leaning your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“Bucky, I mis-”, you didn’t get to finish the sentence before your door opens and you’re suddenly faced with three pissed off ex-marines.

-(Bucky’s P.O.V)

Bucky immediately steps back, releasing you, and straightens his posture. He looks at the men, quietly analysing them. He can tell that they either are or were military, and definitely care immensely about you, probably to the point of beating the crap out of anyone that hurt you.

The one in the middle is a frightening creature , he thinks, but the wedding band means he has something to loose, he should be less quick to anger, in theory.

The one on the right with the short buzz cut and the tense muscles reminds him of Clint, he’s ready to fight at the drop of a hat, and by the look on his face, I’m gonna be his next target.

The man on the left intrigued Bucky the most. His face is blank, showing nothing. He’s favouring one of his legs, and the other shows a bulky piece of metal at the bottom. Wonder if that’s an old military injury.

“Guys, what are you doing?” You ask, apprehension in your voice. Bucky wonders if you’re scared for them or for him.

“Oh we are gonna head out, let you have some time to really think about what we talked about.” The man in the middle says, putting emphasis on the word really.

“Frank please-”

“No it’s ok sweetheart,” Bucky bristles at the pet name the Clint wannabe says, “we’ll see you later.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, I left my phone on your table, could you get it for me?” The other says to you, cutting off your words, smiling at you to calm the stressed look on your face.

“Of course Cutis, one sec,” you respond, Turing to Bucky at the end of your sentence with a look at says please don’t make this worse.

You pass by the men and let the door fall closed behind you.

The silence is tense as the men all stare at each-other.

“So…how’s your man doing? Y’know the one that got jumped,” Billy says, smirking at Bucky.

“How do you know that?” Bucky asks as his muscles tense.

“…Y/N told us, obviously,” Billy says.

The pause was intentional, she didn’t tell them that.

“He’s fine, thanks.” Bucky responds shortly, all to aware of the lie he was just told.

The door opens just before Billy can respond, all four men going silent again.

“Here it is Curtis, guess I’ll see you guys later then,” you say, before hugging each man.

The three shoulder past Bucky as if he was just a man on the street, no care in the world that he could have them killed for that disrespect. But he lets this one slide, for her, as they’re her friends.

“Did you tell them about Clint?” He knows it was a lie but he needs to make sure his cynical brain isn’t marking it up.

“No? Why?” You answer, unaware of the turmoil occurring in Bucky’s head.

Then how the fuck do they know.

“Give me one minute doll, I forgot something at the car,” he says, “go on inside I’ll be back soon.”

“Uh.. okay.” You answer, walking back into the apartment.

He watches the door and as soon as it closes he is moving back down the stairs, hoping to catch and ask the men how they knew about Clint. Bucky normally has an reasonable explanation for everything, but this time he was stumped. He catches them outside the front door to the building, the three of them stood leaning against their car, watching the door, waiting for him to come out.

“How do you know?” He repeats his question from before, voice lower and more dangerous now.

“Y’know…that bastard has a solid right hook.” Billy says. The sentence sends red hot anger through Bucky’s blood.

It was them. But that means…

“Did you get our package?” The big one in the middle asks, Frank, she called him.

Fuck. The anger that has been burning in his veins since the second he saw those photos of you pours out of him and he immediately pulls a gun on Frank.

“Hey now that’s not smart, is it?” Curtis asks in a placating tone.

“Don’t forget about our girl up there. What’s she gonna think if you shoot me for no reason?” Frank says, unflinching staring down the barrel of Bucky’s gun.

Fuck. Fuck. These bastard are the ones threatening everything, they jumped Clint and are using you to get to him. They’re your friends and you? You have absolutely no idea.

————

Yo this took so long to do!! Hope you like my lil twisty turn at the end there 😈.

Lemme know what u think 😘

Tagged :

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#bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #mob!bucky fic #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x tattoo artist!reader #ace chats #tattoo artist!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader

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mirohlayo · 4 months

Text

HATE YOU LOVINGLY | LN4 (pt2)

( you hate him just as he hates you. but maybe it's just his way to show he fell hard for you. )

warning : jealousy, slight angst, fluff

note : i spent my whole evening writing this but it's worth it. also wrote once again more than 5k words i surprised myself because even in french i don't write that much

word count : 5.1k

↳ part 1

!! english is not my first language !!

this season's debut is tough for you. being a new f1 presenter is not as amazing as it looks. of course it's a wonderful job, you couldn't have dreamed better because it's the job you so wanted. you're very passionate about it, but it requires a lot of work and to be honest you're feeling a bit tired since some weeks now.

but the thing that disturbs you and makes you really tense is when you interview lando. actually just lando. of course you still don't like him, but you're sure you don't hate him anymore. you thought you would never say this but you definitely started to appreciate him. because of the post race interviews.

you mostly interview the mclaren drivers. it means that you can share some time with your best friend oscar but it also means you have to face lando. and when it happens it's the most stressful and strained moment. because you can't fully concentrate yourself on the questions.

it's the way he looks at you with this intense gaze, which makes you burn inside of your body. his distracting look always finish to fall on your lips at one point of the interview. it makes you go crazy. he would stare a bit at them before looking you in the eyes like nothing happened.

but to revenge on him you would ask him the most tough questions. about the race, about qualifying. you somehow always manage to prick his weaknesses by asking questions whose answers are almost impossible to find. and he always scoff, he lets a laugh out because he perfectly understands what you always try to do.

and fans notice it. they notice the way you two interact on camera. they'd say both of you look like are going to murder each other with the difficult questions from you and the sassy comments and answers from lando. but if they really analyze the situations, they can caught and feel a link between you. a special link which connects you. they notice lando's wandering eyes on your lips and the way you look at him. and laugh at his jokes.

it seems like you try so hard to show everyone you hate each other but it ends up watching two fools being secretly in love.

but you're still sure lando hates you and he's thinking the same for you.

now the australian grand prix will take place this sunday, and today it is thursday. which means conferences and media duties. the mclaren media team has planned a new sort of video. they want to try different types of content for both the drivers this year. and they organized a video with lando and you as guests. the idea of the video is to make lando choose an outfit for you and you'll try it. it can be a good way to show mclaren's fans your relationship and also lando's style and taste.

"y/n will arrive in a few minutes" stephanie, who oversees media and PR functions for mclaren, informs lando that you'll be here soon. the curly haired just nods and fixes his hoodie's sleeve. his expression is impassive, nobody can't tell what emotion he's feeling right now. however, some of the members are aware of the complex relationship between you and lando so they profoundly hope the video will not be a mess.

you guys just need to cooperate and fake it, fake your emotions only for the video. because it is your jobs.

lando laughs with the makeup artist who is adjusting his makeup. he lifts up his eyes and then he sees you walk in the room. you smile and greet the staff, waving your hand to some acquaintances. and in this moment he daydreams. he stops himself on you. your smile, the way you act with people around you with the kindest words and purest actions. he's mesmerized by you. and he hates it.

you make everything so difficult for him. why do he constantly have this problem ? this need to keep an eye on you, to lay eyes on you at least once a day. to be sure you're present and if you're not then he's always questioning himself, he thinks about you. why he's so attracted by you ? he thinks that he always hated you, that he was sure that this curiosity he had for you at the beginning had turned into hatred. but ultimately maybe he was lying to himself.

he only wanted to protect himself from his lack of self-confidence from trying to approach you without any result, and he decided to bury his true feelings under a shell. he created this false illusion of hatred so as not to hurt his ego, not to remind him that he is completely in love with you. because deep down he always saw you as an inaccessible woman and he always wondered how a guy like him could say a word to a woman like you.

he was too insecure and you seemed to avoid and ignore him, so it hurt him because he wanted to exist in your eyes. and that's why he started to hate you. but this feeling of hatred is simply wrong. it's an excuse to hide his feelings towards you. but he realizes that. he doesn't deny it anymore, he knows how fucking bad he's in love with you.

"lando ? you're still with us ?" your voice rings in lando's ears and he comes back to reality. you're standing next to him, and the staff is ready to start the video. "yeah sorry. i'm ready" he says and gives you a decided look. stephanie checks everything. she adjusts the little details to make everything look perfect. but she frowns when her eyes fall on you. "can you please try to be more relaxed and act like you're actually like each other ?"

she walks quickly over you and put her hands on your shoulders "you need to be closer to him, the framing looks horrible on the camera" she says while moving your position. your feet walk by themselves and you're so close to lando now, your shoulders almost touch together. you have never been so close to him. you can even smell his cologne.

he looks a bit uncomfortable now, he shifts his position and clear his throat. he can also smell your perfume too and he's completely hypnotized by it. and by the closeness of your body. stephanie take a look on the camera and she thumbs up. "perfect !! now we can start the recording. please no noise!" she sits on her chair and gives you the signal.

you inhale deeply. it's going to be funny right ?

"hello everyone !! today we are here with the driver lando norris and we're going to play a little game together" you smile to the camera and then turn around to talk to the driver next to you. he does the same and when your looks meet, his heart starts to beat faster. you continue to speak and explain the game but he doesn't listen, he's stuck on your hand on his shoulder. you have never touch him before, because if you dare brush him you know he'll be so pissed off. and you either don't want to graze his skin.

but it's all for the work, so you have to do it and to obviously fake it.

lando doesn't want to show you and people that he's surprised by the touch and that he actually likes it. so to shield himself he keeps a straight face and glare at your hand before taking a step back. you would be lying if you said he hurts you with this sudden move. but what, you also need to fake your hatred towards him. so you react like nothing happened despite the way your heart pangs.

"so are you ready to choose me an outfit ?" you ask to the driver and he doesn't ever bother to look you in the eyes. "yes, i think i'll do a great job". you try to hold back a roll eyes and you smile while nodding. but stephanie claps and sighs "no it's so bad. i know you two can't barely stand each other but you guys need to grow up and understand that you need to work together. it looks like you're going to fight. please be serious and mature and make an effort to show that you are at least close"

you sigh and nod to agree with her because you know she's right. you can't act like this in front of the camera and millions of people. "we're sorry. we're going to fix this problem and do our best" "who "we"?" lando says and shoot a black look to you. you bite your cheek from the inside and roll your eyes. now you're getting annoyed. "shut your mouth and stop being stupid. do your job." you murmur to him with frowning brows.

"don't talk to me like that. we're not friends and we'll never be" he adds. he says that to look pissed off, but the truth is that he hopes you'll never be friends. because instead he hopes you'll be his girlfriend. "i ask no more" you scoff and you sound genuinely honest and sincere. which twist his heart and feelings. wouldn’t he have said that ? now he starts regretting what he have said. do you really want him to remain your enemy?

he can't argue back because the recording is taking up again. the recording is going pleasantly well and it surprises the staff as much as you two. lando seems to choose with precision and care your outfit. he does his best to match the clothes and he picks up the best items. and it feels like he's doing it not on purpose, but sincerely. it feels like he truly wants to see you well dressed and it kinda disturbs you.

you go change yourself into the outfit. and it's really beautiful. the clothes match perfectly and you can't lie, he did a good job. you found yourself admiring your reflection in the mirror. you're wearing an outfit chosen by your enemy - no wait by the man you secretly love, and you like it a bit too much.

it's time for the outfit reveals. the camera still records and you're hidden behind a curtain. "okay lando are you ready to see the final result ?" you ask a bit excited about it. "yes show me" he only replies. you pull the curtain and lando's eyes immediately land on you. ohh.

wow. he stopped to breathe. he stopped to talk. is it legal to be this pretty? no because you're taking his breath away and it's not good at all. the outfit fits you perfectly, and he's even more proud because he was the one to choose it. but seriously, he sincerely thinks you look gorgeous that he doesn't even realize you were talking to him. "so how do i look ?" you ask with a smile.

he's flustered. he starts to blush so hard and he rapidly looks away. he tries to say something but he stutters so much over his words. you're making him loose all his senses. he doesn't even know how to talk anymore. "y-you look... i mean it looks good". he pulls himself together and names the outfit rather than you because he doesn't want to admit that you are incredibly beautiful.

"yes i agree with you, it definitely looks good" you reply and smile to him. but not a fake smile like you'd usually do. no, it's a sincere smile, the one smile he loves seeing. he blushes even more and he clear his throat. some staff members notice how lando looks destabilized by you and they laugh. he is unmasked. but you see he's starting to get embarrassed and you decide to end the video now.

"you were perfect, thanks for your hard work" stephanie says and the others members thanks you too. the record stops and you rush to go get changed. you don't even glance at lando, you just look like you can't wait to leave the room and the driver. and the curly haired feels a little disappointed. for the first time he really wanted to talk to you and say a few words to you.

he hesitates to follow you. it would be weird if he suddenly come and talk to you when you can't even look at each other properly.

but he doesn't care. he wants to be confident. he rushes to follow you and before you could walk away from him he grabs your wrist. your second touch. it gives him shivers. and you too because he notices how your skin reacted to the sudden touch. wait, do you feel the same as him ?

"what ?" your frown and glare at him. he removes his hand from your wrist and looks away. he wants to speak but his words are running away. why he's like that around you ? "huh... i just wanted to say that you are actually... really pretty in this outfit" he says and blushes so so hard. you stop yourself. are you dreaming ? is this even real ?

is it really lando ? it's not a false lando norris right ? you blink, and he can clearly tell you're surprised. like very surprised. which is stressful because he starts to regret what he have said. he is sure that you will take his compliment badly and that he will be able to go fuck himself. but no. it's not your reaction. "oh... thank you lando. i guess ?" you stutter a bit, you don't even know how to react at this point.

your reaction make him laugh softly and for the first time since you met, a positive interaction took place between you. it's like a dream, it can't be real. you thought you couldn't have a good talk with him. you genuinely thought you and him couldn't make it together. but it seems for once that you are able to do it.

"let me change myself now please" you say because you're too flustered to stay with him right now. it's kinda awkward though. "oh yes sorry" he only replies and walk away without anything else.

now this one was truly surprising. first you managed to work perfectly well together and then he complimented you ? something is off. he couldn't have change in a day no ? it's just so strange. but yet you don't complain. you're happy about your interactions today. because it finally seems that you both can now try to be more friends and to know how each other.

two months passed since that day. and surprisingly everything was getting better with lando. now you great each other every day, the post race interviews are definitely entertaining and you both enjoy them now. he's making jokes sometimes when he's around you and he's always excited to record new content with you. your relationship really improved these past months.

and lando is still so fucking in love with you. he fell even harder for you since you started to interact more with him. now he only has eyes for you, you're the only girl he thinks about, the only girl he wants so bad. and you feel the same too. your love for lando doubled and the only thing you wish for is to be with him. to be his girlfriend. just as he wants to be your boyfriend.

today you need to attend a gala. most of the drivers will be there and lot of your colleagues and others presenters will be there too. it's an important event so you need to dress well and of course you must attend it. you finish your hairstyle and spray perfume on your neck. you're ready.

you make it to the place and you're welcomed by a huge crowd of people and fans. a lot of them try to reach out the drivers. every drivers and presenters are on the huge red carpet. there are many cameras and journalists too. it is very vibrant, very lively. flash come from everywhere and you try to find faces you know. and then you find your best friend.

you rush to oscar. he spots you too and he walks towards you. "y/n ! you took a long time to come" he says and hugs you. you wrap your arms around him too and pull back after. "sorry, there was traffic" you reply. he looks good. he wears a suit with a tie and it looks perfect on him. because he's not the kind of man to pull out costume. so seeing the boy you grew up with in this outfit is shocking. it makes you wonder if his teammate is wearing the same as him ?

lando finishes his interview. he gives a small smile to the journalist and joins carlos and charles over there. he's scanning the crowd. he's looking around. he recognizes some f1 presenters and he wonders if you are here too. he wants to see you. he wants to talk to you. but the only person he sees is his old teammate daniel walking to the group of drivers.

"hello guys. how you all feeling ?" he asks and shows his best smile. "good. though i'm tired of these infinite interviews" charles jokes but the boys all know there's some kind of honesty about it. "long time not see" daniel says as he pats lando's shoulder. "c'mon man you played games with me this morning" he rolls his eyes but grin. daniel laughs and wink at him.

a gap settles between the two but it is filled by the voices of the ferrari drivers. and then daniel speak again. "she's pretty" he only says. lando frowns and turns his head to look at his friend. "what ?" "the woman there. she's really pretty. i think she's a presenter. i often see her the paddock" daniel says and a silly smile take place on his face. lando follows daniel's gaze and his look falls on the one only girl he hoped his friend wasn't talking about.

you.

you're laughing so hard with his teammate that you almost trip and you have to hang on to oscar to avoid falling. and yes, indeed you are beautiful tonight. not that you aren't every day because he could literally spend the whole day admiring you but this long black dress which perfectly highlights your body has a lot of effect on him. but he knows he's not the only one you have an effect on. his jaw clench. no, his friend can't be interested in you. he does not have the right. lando was here first, he's the one for you not daniel. he needs to do something. he needs to keep daniel away from you.

"hah, there's much better mate... like this one girl over here, she's prettier by far." lando says in a nonchalant tone, and he points to a brunette who is also one of your colleagues. lie. it's a lie but he needs to do it. "really ? i prefer my girl. but i didn't know you had your eye on this brunette. good to know boy" daniel gives a wink to lando.

my girl ? did he really called you my girl ? jealousy fills lando now. daniel can't allow himself to call you like that. he does not have the right. only lando can call you my girl. you're his girl. well not really actually but still in his eyes you're his precious and favorite girl. he needs to try something else. "no that's not what i meant" "don't worry lando i'll try to get her number for you" he adds with an implicit smile.

the situation gets worse. it's not good at all. "no but i know her and i already know you won't like her. her name is y/n. you know she's horrible and she is like super super annoying. plus she has a terrible sense of humor. doesn't match with you." he ramble about you like you are the most mean person on earth. daniel looks confused but his eyes suddenly sparks. "oh it's the one girl you hate right ?" he asks.

lando hates his behavior now but he needs to save his opportunity. "yes that's her. i wish she could stop existing" he jokes but he's genuinely shocked by his own words. he wants to slap himself. how he hates himself for talking about you like that. he doesn't deserve you at all. "you know what i'm gonna talk to her"

and without realizing it, he sees daniel walking to you. lando's heart skipped a beat. no no no. it can't happen. you're his girl. you don't need daniel. jealousy is running in his blood and he swears he have never been this jealous over someone. he doesn't want to see you talk to an other man than him. he doesn't want to see you laugh with his old teammate because he perfectly knows you love his humor. no you can't give your attention to daniel. it is lando first.

"hello y/n !" daniel greets you with his white teeth smile. you stop talking with oscar and mirror his smile. lando rushes over and joins you. now there are three boys surrounding you. "hello daniel. hi lando !" you say and your smile widen when you look at the mclaren driver. his heart melt from your reaction, he notices how your eyes sparks when you look at him. "you look beautiful" daniel says then he adds "but lando thinks this woman over here his prettier than you. i think he might have a crush on her. but don't worry i'm here for you y/n".

lando sees red now. why daniel said that ? it's fucking bullshit, you're the absolutely only woman he has eyes for. he almost yells at his friend but he pulls himself together. he just hopes you won't listen to his bullshit. he's really pissed of now. you feel strange. like your heart painfully pangs. because you think now that lando already has an other girl in his mind. and it hurts. you thought you were somehow different for him. but you guess not. you try to change the topic because you're getting upset and sad. "wait how do you know my name ?" you frown confused and daniel laughs softly. "lando told me about you" he replies.

your gaze shift on lando. he talked about you to daniel ? it must have been positive then. you show your best smile to him and you can't help but giggle a little. but lando looks impassive, he doesn't even smile to you back. no, he's glaring at you. just like before. just like two months ago when he was hating on you. you don't understand. "oh and what did he say about me ?" you ask curiously.

daniel pats his friend's shoulder with a desolate look. of course it is part of the joke. "well he told me you're the most horrible and annoying person to ever exist. oh he actually said he wish you could stop existing but he was joking about that." daniel laughs but you are not. what ? is that true ? "excuse me... he really said that ? did he actually mean it ?" you ask to be sure.

lando knows he's in shit. he fucked up. he wants to say something but daniel cuts him off. "i think so because he literally said he hates you. but i think you already know that don't you ?"

daniel wasn't doing it on purpose at all. he knows that you both hate each other, which is why he allows himself to joke about your relationship. but he doesn't know that you've gotten a lot closer lately. lando didn't tell him about his feelings for you because he didn't want to show that he loves you. he kept pretending to hate you when he was with daniel and now this is what shit he's in.

"i... sorry i thought we got along well? that our relationship was better..." you look at the driver you love. he shows no expression.

so is he really like that? a big asshole to the end. you felt that he had changed, that he was starting to like you but in the end he is still the same idiot as before. he played with your feelings. and your whole being hurts. your heart pang so hard. "well if you believed it then maybe i should become an actor then" he scoffs and look at you up and down.

what is he doing? his behavior is truly shit and pathetic. he is losing the girl of his dreams because of himself. he is destroying the only person important to him. the only woman he wants to chase. he's so fucking bad he can't even take off this hateful role in front of daniel because he doesn't want to show that he fell in love with the girl he was supposed to hate. he's such a terrible asshole.

oscar doesn't understand either. because unlike daniel he knows lando's feelings towards you. he knows that his teammate is madly in love with you. so why this behavior? why is he doing all this? why is he hurting his best friend ? he looks at lando with a confused and angry gaze. "i'm sorry i need to get some water" you're about to cry in pain. you disappear quickly because you don't want to stay another second next to him. you have never felt like this before. you feel shit for believing in him. now he broke you in pieces.

daniel doesn't understand either what is happening. but some journalists are calling him for an interview and he excuses himself, saying he'll be back soon. now there's lando and oscar who remain together. "fuck" the curly haired curses. "fuck fuck fuck. shit. fucking shit. i fucked up everything" he curses more. oscar sigh and runs a hand in his hair. "indeed you did yes". his teammate looks like he's about to burst into tears. he knows he really did you wrong and shitty.

"see what you have lost" oscar says and shrugs. but him too is pissed off, he's mad at lando because this guy literally hurts in the most painful way his best friend. "why did you do that ? why did you mess up everything? i thought you really loved her!!” "because i do !! i do love her, she's my everything. she's the only person i care about. she's the only one i think about and she's making me loose my mind and i don't see my life without her oscar. for fuck sake i'm so in love with her and i know i don't deserve her"

lando goes around in circles. he's getting tired of it. "you really disappointed me you know. but it makes me feel sorry to see you in this state, so even if i don't like it, go chase after her" oscar pushes his teammate in your direction. he doesn't want to see lando desperate like this. he knows you love him and that lando loves you too. he can't stand seeing you two suffer when you're literally fighting for each other.

lando finds you in a hidden spot. you let a sob out of your mouth and it breaks his heart. his whole being even. he sees tears falling down on your cheeks and he curses at himself for being the reason of them. he carefully approaches you but you notice him. you're about to walk away but he grabs your wrist before you could run. "y/n"

"no. go away. i don't want to be near you" you bluntly pull back your hand from his grab. "no please y/n listen to me" he tries once again. you scoff and roll your eyes. he thinks it works like that ? "what ? i don't want to listen to you." you struggle to not yell at him. "i didn't intend to say theses things you have to trust me"

he digs himself in deeper. "oh what, now i need to trust you like i used to trust you when i thought you liked me ? you're shit lando" you start to walk away but he stops you once again. "leave me. i don't want to hear your excuses" you try to release his hand from your arm but he doesn't let you go. "no. listen to me. i don't even know why i acted like that and you don't realize how much i hate myself right now. this is not what i wanted to do. this is not what i want"

new tears fall on your face but you don't care at this point. you don't even have the energy to argue back. you can't stop crying. "so what do you want then ?"

"you" he answers without hesitation.

oh. you didn't expect this answer. his other hand grab gently your arm and he takes advantage of your lack of reaction to pull you into his arms. "now really listen" he starts and wipe a tear from your cheek. "i know i'm a piece of shit that don't deserve you. i don't even deserve to talk to you. i'm really a dick because i hurt you so bad and trust me it truly breaks my heart because i'm the man who broke your heart when i was supposed to take care of it"

"i never hated you. never. i was always attracted to you and i know i fell in love with you since the first time i laid eyes on you. every single day i begged to have a chance to talk to you. but i wasn't confident enough and i preferred to act like i hated you when all i wanted was to beg you to give me just a chance" he feels your body relaxes and he pulls you even closer. you can fell his breath on your neck.

"you're not even a little annoying. you are the complete opposite of horrible, you are the kindest and most caring person i know. i want to slap myself for saying i wish you didn't exist. because it's a fucking lie. i can't live without your existence. i can't imagine my future without you. you're taking my breath away and you never leave my mind and thoughts. i know you're the love of my life and i waited for you this long. and i'll never let you go now that i found you." he finishes in a sob and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

"lando..." you hum. "shhh don't talk. it'll be alright baby" he murmurs against your ear. he strokes your hair with one hand and your back with the other. he places a soft kiss on your head. "i fell very hard for you baby. i'm so in love with you. i'll never stop loving you i promise" he says and you just nod. "i love you so much too lan" you simply answer.

"and that one brunette girl daniel talked about ?" you ask with watery eyes. he laughs softly and cup your face "oh babe i don't even remember who she is. but don't worry love i only have eyes for you" he says and you simply smile widely. "i hope so".

he smiles too and look at your lips. "now kiss baby" he says in a whisper and leans in to kiss you tenderly. the kiss is so sweet and gentle, his lips moving perfectly against yours. he's delighted and he softly bites your bottom lip. you pull back and peck his nose. "so do you love me or do you hate me ?" you ask as he wipes away your last tears. he smiles bright and think before speaking again. "i think i hate you lovingly".

and his lips meet once again yours in a passionate kiss...

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #ln4 fic #lando norris fluff

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tlou-reid · 4 months

Text

I Can See You ❆ Spencer Reid

☃︎SUMMARY: spencer and another BAU member spend all day sneaking around and teasing each other, how do they get through Rossi's party at the end of the day?

☃︎WARNINGS: smut MDNI, piv, public teasing, secret relationship, reader is shorter than spencer, needy!Spencer, voyuerism, alcohol

☃︎swiftmas masterlist!

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?

There was nothing you could’ve pictured being more boring than paperwork at the BAU. Filling out paperwork paper was boring and mundane and repetitive and you absolutely hated it. There was no good part about it, and paperwork days were your least favorite part of your job.

Until you were dragged into a meeting run by HR. They were droning on and on about healthy relationships in the workplace, and you were tired of hearing about it. You had caught on to the fact that Penelope and Derek’s interesting relationship had been the cause of this meeting and you were growing agitated with Derek’s humorous reaction to the presentation, especially when you were bored out of your mind.

So, naturally, you needed to entertain yourself. And what better way to do that than by engaging in your own healthy relationship?

Spencer flinched when your hand landed on his thigh. Nothing too risque yet, simply resting right about his knee. He was surprised at the contact, but also how open you were about touching him. Your relationship was a secret, no one in the BAU could confirm it, even if they had their suspicions.

You felt brave, being as you were sat in the back, hidden from the eyes of the HR team, and Derek and Penelope. As they were the reason for the meeting, they’d been forced to sit up front. You loved the secrecy, almost too much.

Spencer was calm, at first. He also recognized he was safe in the back, so your contact did not really matter. At first. When your hand started making its way up his thigh, he began to stress out. Your light touches tickled him under his pants, and the effects were going right to his cock. He could feel himself beginning to get hard.

“Y/N,” he whispered as a warning, willing you to stop. It was cute, the way he lost all ability to form coherent sentences as soon as you began making moves on him. You let out a giggle, not turning to meet his eye. Your movements only stopped for a second before you changed to lightly drawing figure-8s along the expanse of his thigh.

What would you do if they never found us out?

A groan got caught at the base of Spencer’s throat at this change, and he dropped his head to your shoulder to keep it from coming out. This had you smiling again, opting to keep a solid grip on his thigh. Spencer let out a breath of relief when you stopped. He readjusted himself in his seat when he sat back, trying to hide his growing boner.

“Thank you for listening, remember, keep all work communication appropriate and friendly.” One of the speakers dismissed everyone, keeping a watchful eye on Morgan and Garcia as they prepared to leave.

“Come with me,” You whispered to Spencer, pulling him by his hand. He didn’t have room to disagree as you pulled him into a secluded hallway. Spencer was speechless as you pressed him against the wall. Your hands moved from his chest to his waist, pulling yourself up to pepper his neck with kisses.

“Y/N,” he whined, “we’re working.” You pulled away, looking up at him with wide eyes, “Technically, we’re off the clock.” You smirked at him as he rolled his eyes. He looked so pretty like this. His hair was shorter than you’d ever seen it, but tousled from him running his hands through it during the meeting. His cheeks were a gorgeous shade of pink, one that you were sure matched the tip of his dick, and you were willing to find out. His pupils were blown with lust as his eyes bored into yours.

He couldn’t disagree with your technicality. The meeting ran a bit long and your time technically ended about five minutes ago, but staying late at the BAU was something you were used to. “So,” Spencer dragged out, “let’s go home and do this.” You shook your head at his proposal, “Can’t, gotta go to dinner at Rossi’s tonight,” you reminded him, launching to kiss on his neck again.

“We can make time,” he promised, wiggling out of your grip. Dinners with the team were fun, but all you wanted right now was Spencer. You sighed, following him out to the bullpen, gathering your things, and heading to Spencer’s to get ready.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to make time. Penelope was calling as soon as you walked through the door, wanting to be on the phone while you got ready. It took a lot of convincing to let her just call as she wanted to video chat. She would recognize Spencer’s home with a small glance, so you spent the call telling her it wasn’t working. You weren’t sure if you convinced her, but she dropped the topic.

What would you do if we never made a sound?

You drove to the party early, reducing suspicions by allowing Penelope and Morgan to pick Spencer up. As much as you wanted to tease him on the drive, this was better for your secret relationship.

The party was fun, if a little loud. Everyone ate together, exchanging stories and cracking jokes. You sat between JJ and Spencer during dinner, and you managed to keep your hands to yourself. Rossi’s cooking was always amazing, and Penelope’s desserts were even better. Alcohol flowed as you all began planning for the upcoming FBI Christmas party.

“I’m going to get a glass of water,” you rose from your seat, making your way to the kitchen. You reached up to grab a glass, not even reaching on tippy toes. Damn Rossi’s huge house, you thought. You jumped when a familiar hand rested on your hip. You recognized Spencer’s hand as it reached up, grabbing the glass for you.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him as he handed it to you. He smiled in return, reaching to grab one for himself. You each filled up your glass, but neither of you moved from the kitchen. You were drawn together and too encompassed by each other’s presence to worry about the rest of the team outside. You shared flirty glances over your glasses as you sipped on them.

Spencer was the first to speak. He let out a frustrated groan, before asking, “Why do you do this to me?” You laughed at his question, “Do what?” You hid behind your glass again, growing shy under his loving gaze. “Tease me!” He exclaimed, resting his glass on the counter behind him. He took two large paces towards you as you spoke, “I’m just standing here!”

This time, it was he who held you by your waist, pressing hard kisses to your neck. “Spence, this isn’t very professional,” You scolded, despite leaning your head back to give him more access. “I don’t care,” He demanded, before sucking a mark into the top of your shoulder.

“The team is right outside,” Your words were discouraging, but the way your free hand came up to the back of his head was the opposite. “Be quiet then,” He demanded, pressing himself closer to you. You moaned when you felt his hardened dick press against you. He pulled away briefly, to take your glass out of your hand and rest it on the counter behind you. He quickly resumed his previous position.

His hands were everywhere. They started on your hips, before moving to your ass and squeezing. One moved up, massaging your breast, while the other moved down to rub along your thigh. “Spencer,” you moaned, knowing you needed to end this before someone came looking for you guys. Your hands moved to his chest, lightly pushing him away.

“We can’t do this here,” You mumbled, reaching down to straighten out your dress. You refused to meet his eye, not wanting to let him know how turned-on you were. Your eyes darted around Rossi’s house, landing on the door to the bathroom at the end of the hall. You turned your head to look at Spencer, who was in the process of tucking his hard-on in the waistband of his jeans.

“What?” he asked, noticing the mischievous look in your eye. You didn’t answer, simply grabbing him by his hand and making your way to the bathroom. If Spencer was a different man, he would probably complain about the way you’ve been manhandling him today, pulling him around like some kind of ragdoll. But, he wasn’t, and the only thing he had to complain about was how his dick has been leaking precum all day.

Once the door to the bathroom was closed, you two quickly resumed your previous actions. It did not take long for your dress to be bunched up around your waist and Spencer’s dress pants to be pushed down to his hands. With all of the teasing today, as much as you wanted to take him in your mouth first, you needed him inside of you and you needed him to last for a while.

He was pumping steady thrusts into you from behind, keeping one hand resting at your chin, with his pointer and middle finger shoved in your mouth, keeping you quiet. His head was pressed against your shoulder. You could occasionally feel him bite down on your flesh as he was trying to keep quiet.

The height difference between you two made this angle feel heavenly, his cock hitting just the right place inside of you. It didn’t take too long for either of you to reach your high. You came first, biting down his fingers. The pleasurable pain of your bite and the way you squeezed him as you came had him coming right after, with a hard bite to your shoulder.

He kept himself inside of you, both of you trying to catch your breath. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on his boxers. You took this time to analyze him in the mirror, still shocked that you got Dr. Spencer Reid to fuck you in your boss’ bathroom.

Spencer pulled out, using toilet paper to clean your juices off of him, before pulling his pants up and putting on his belt. He ran his hands through his hair, neatening it as best he could. He, then, moved to you, helping you slide your underwear up your legs and putting your dress back into place. You leaned back against him, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“You okay?” He asked. You nodded, turning around to pull him into a gentle hug. “Can we go home or is that rude?” You asked, burying your head in his chest. He smiled, wondering if you wanted to leave for round two, or if you wanted to climb into bed and go to sleep for the night. Either way, he was all for it.

After double-checking that you two both looked presentable, he went back to the yard, made up a lie about you being drunk and going to make sure you made it home okay, and you were on your way to his home in no time.

Luckily for you guys, everyone else was too intoxicated to see the purple bruises beginning to form on your necks.

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fleurriee · 1 year

Text

— stress reliever ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; your mate never took to stress well - but you couldn’t deny that it was a good look on him. so, when he comes home with a weight on his shoulders, you allow him to take it out on you.

word count ; 2.5k

themes ; smut, fluff, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; explicit content: dom!neteyam, scenting, pussy playing, p in v, let me know if there’s anything else..?

author’s note ; i really don’t know how i feel about this... but we’re gonna role with it. it got quite fluffy at the end bc this is still neteyam we’re talking about & that beautiful boy doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.

main masterlist request a fic!

Crouched against the floor, you hummed a quiet tune to yourself - your songcord created by yourself, waiting for more words added on with each achievement in your life. Your hands worked tenderly against the objects you were rearranging in front of you, originally believing that it was time for a new look within your tent.

There wasn’t much else for you to do, after all - you’d prepared your dinner for that night, all it now needed was the heat from the awaiting fire; you’d spent a good amount of time with both Kiri and Tuk, the former wanting your presence next to you as she worked with her grandmother, and the latter wanting you to play whatever she randomly wanted to on that day. You didn’t mind spending your day with little random bits like this, because it was nice to not have to stress over so much weighing down upon your shoulders... unlike your mate.

Several times since moving in together, Neteyam had come home stressed out of his mind - whether it was from the actions of that day, or any upcoming day, it didn’t matter. Neteyam always took everyone’s blame as the older brother, wanting the rest of the clan to see that he would make a good Olo’eyktan one day. And, despite the way he hated the feeling of being distressed, he continued to do it.

You only hoped today he’d come home happier.

You were just finishing the end of your songcord, about to start it over again when you heard pounding footsteps from behind you. Turning around, you watched as your mate stormed through the entrance of your tent, hands clenched at his sides and brows furrowed in clear anger. He was mumbling and grumbling under his breath, shaking his head side to side and eyes casted down as you could only hear fucking Lo’ak escape his laboured breathing.

Neteyam had spent the day with the war party, helping his father train the younger hunters for the moment they’d be taking on more challenging tasks to help protect the clan. By both his actions and the cursing of his younger brother, you could only guess that Lo’ak had done something stupid, therefore causing everything else to fall like dominoes, and there was no doubt in your mind Neteyam probably took the blame.

With your ears high on your head, you moved slowly as you stood up, disregarding your previous task and walking calmly over towards him. “Neteyam?” you questioned, voice soft so as not to startle him too much. You knew he’d never hurt you - he’d rather die before he ever thought about hurting you - but you knew he could set himself off, not wanting to him to spiral down a rabbit hole of despair. “Ma ‘teyam, is everything-”

Your words were cut off so abruptly that you felt the breath hitch in your throat, your legs suddenly leaving the ground as a gasp emanated from your lips. Warm, rough hands grasped themselves against the backs of your thighs, forcefully wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you close to his chest. He squeezed your soft flesh, your arms holding tightly onto your mate’s shoulders as you stayed suspended in the air.

In one swift movement, Neteyam had mercilessly untied the knots of your loincloth, movements hurried and fervent, before throwing the material somewhere unknown within your tent to the both of you, without a care for its disregard. At his actions, you couldn’t help the tightening within your core.

“Need you, my yawne (beloved),” his voice rasped, forcing his head between the junction of your neck and shoulder, leaving teasing bites against your skin. “So fucking stressed, need your body - need your pussy.”

You felt your heat clench around nothing when his rushed words left his mouth and into the warmth of your skin. A whimper left your mouth as his hands squeezed your thighs again, leaving a lingering slap against your cheek.

“Do you want me to take it out on you?” he questioned harshly, voice low in the back of his throat, sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want me to fuck you senseless, let me fuck all my anger into you?”

A whine, loud and clear, tore through the air, your body subconsciously moving closer to his own, grinding against his abs for some friction. You were so desperate for him, so needy for him, that you weren’t entirely sure what you were doing, mind so foggy, lustful, and full of him.

He left another harsh slap against your ass, rubbing his head further into your neck as he drowned himself in your scent, allowing his own to pore into you, too. “Need you to use your words, my muntxa (mate).”

Swallowing carefully, you attempted to collect your words. You nod your head, your legs tightening around him. “Ye-yes, ma ‘teyam. Please.”

He brought one of his hands around, snaking its way in between your unbelievably close bodies, keeping you firmly in place with just his another one. You could feel his fingers dance teasingly as they lowered further and further down, gasping loudly when you felt the sensation of his cold fingers against your warmth. Neteyam began to rub gentle circles, eliciting a hiss from you, a smirk bubbling up in his throat at your reaction, tail curling around your ankle.

“What do you want, narlor (beautiful)?” His fingers continued their painfully slow pace, knowing that it would drive you over the edge and have you begging - exactly what he wanted. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

You were quick with your words, desperate, lusting for more, for all of him. “You, ‘teyam,” you breath out softly, rubbing your cheek against the top of his head, somehow bringing him all the more closer. “I want you to fuck me.”

A chuckle painted tight against your skin sent you shivering, his fingers moving away from your core and leaving you whimpering at the loss of contact. He loved the way you submitted to him so easily, giving him exactly what he wanted - he loved to hear you beg and plead for more.

He didn’t say anything else - he didn’t have to. In one swift movement, his own loincloth was lying on the floor, his eager and impatient emotions getting the better of him before his entire length was free, slapping softly against your lower stomach as it twitched in anticipation.

The feeling of him being so close, yet too far had you grinding against him again, his cock rubbing against your skin. Your hands tightened around his neck, fingers cleaving at his hair and pulling. A groan tumbled into your ears at your actions, a faint laugh escaping your lips at the reaction you could garner from your mate.

But, it was taken away from you the moment you had it. He roughly planted his lips against your own, moving forcefully as your teeth clashed and tongues fought for dominance in a messy show of love. Neteyam wasn’t typically dominant when it came to sex, rather just making love to you the way he knew best - but when he got stressed, he wanted complete and utter control over you.

And, you loved giving it to him, giving all of you to do whatever he pleased, but you also enjoyed teasing him. You enjoyed making him work for it, pushing so close to the edge he was moments away from snapping, because you knew, in the end, he’d fuck you until you were stuttering, breathless mess.

Hands returning to gripping your ass, squeezing more harshly then ever to show off the power dynamic he was craving, he continued to kiss you, wanting you to lose your breath but have you begging for more. When you pulled away from one another, lips swollen and eyes hooded, Neteyam made sure to keep his attention solely on you when he slammed his lips into your own, forcefully pushing himself inside of you.

On a normal occasion, Neteyam would take his time with you, making sure you were well taken care of and ready for him before bothering with himself. It wasn’t like you needed it, however - since mating, the two of you had had sex too many times to count, too loved up and adoring of one another that you simply couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Now, you knew one another’s bodies like they were your own.

So, when Neteyam’s entire length pushed itself in you, completely bottoming out, a silent scream tore at your throat, eyes clasped shut, mouth agape and head hung back at how good it felt. You were sure there was nothing better in the entire world than the feeling of having Neteyam inside you, the warmth that blistered your body inside and out, the feeling of being full. You loved it.

Neteyam wasted no time in his movements, moving at full speed and not giving you a chance to adjust. He was angry, pent-up emotions getting the better of him as his eyes glazed over and all he could think about was fucking you senseless. He kept his grip firm on you, jaw clenched and eyes hardened as he watched your every reaction.

With his cock kissing your cervix so intensely, you tightened your entire body around him, arms and legs moving yourself impossibly closer to him. Lewd noises filled up your tent, the mixture of Neteyam’s grunts, your moans, and your wetness beginning to gush out on your mate’s cock combining together as one, you were sure the whole clan could hear.

But, you found yourself not caring. You almost wanted people to hear - wanted them to know how good your mate treated you, how good he made you feel. You wanted them to know you were entirely his.

Another low grunt fell from Neteyam’s lips, his head beginning to fall back and eyes screwing shut at the pure bliss and pleasure consuming him. He loved the feeling of your body clawing closer to his, loved the feeling of your head burying into the crook of his neck as you whimpered lovingly, the sound music to his ears.

Everything was becoming too much - you could feel yourself reaching closer and closer to the edge, whining submissively for more. “Nete-” you stuttered, not quite getting the correct words out, mind foggy and hazy. “Neteyam.” A guttural moan pierced through the atmosphere alongside his name, the two sounds coming together as he started to hit a specific part inside of you, spongy and warm and perfect.

Neteyam forced his head forwards again as he continued pounding relentlessly into you, one hand grabbing the back of your hair and pulling it back so your faces were in front of one another, noses touching and breaths mingling. You were a panting mess, words jumbled and unsure - obvious signs that you were close to cumming.

“You want to cum, my muntxa (mate)?” he asked, mouth wide open as he whispered the words into your own gaping mouth. Little whines were his only response, the sound sending warmth to both his heart and to his cock. “Hmm? You want to cum all over my cock?”

His words sent vibrations running through your entire system, from the bottoms of your toes all the way to your mind, your thoughts running wild. You could feel your tail beginning to shiver, too, another sign that the pleasure you were experiencing was too good, that you were close.

You nodded pathetically at his questions, desperate for him to give you exactly what you wanted. There was a brief moment where you wondered whether he’d stop so suddenly, ripping you away from your orgasm and making you start all over again just because he could. But, his anger was so prevalent, so built-up inside of him that he didn’t have the energy to be doing that - he just wanted to feel you as you let yourself go all over him like the good girl you were.

Your nod and whines were enough of an answer for him. “Then, cum,” he demanded, teeth gritting sharply and fangs pointing menacingly as he picked up speed, his balls slapping against your folds, willing you to cum. “Cum, my muntxa (mate).”

In an instant, you were completely sent over the edge, all mushy and whimpering and shaking as you came down form your high. You could feel Neteyam’s own release filling up your insides, too, painting your walls and swallowing his gravelly moan. His pounding didn’t stop, but it did cease, ensuring that you were both fully satisfied and his cum stayed inside of you exactly where it belonged.

With slow movements, you continued to pant into his mouth, lips messily attempting to kiss one another, sweaty foreheads coming in contact as you rubbed your noses together. The silence that ensued was welcoming, comforting, just the sounds of your aftermath and the scent of the two of you lingering against one another - heaven.

Neteyam continued to hold you in his arms, making sure you were safe in his grasp but softening his hold. He began to caress your skin lovingly, placing a tender kiss against your lips. You found your head leaning more towards his own once he pulled away, not wanting him to part so soon. “Are you okay?” he questioned, the fast-paced situation finally catching up to him. “I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?”

A blissful smile played at your lips, loving how he could switch from two different types of dominant in the matter of seconds - fucking you until your thoughts were filled of nothing but his cock, and making sure you were safe and rightfully cared for. Your eyes were still hooded and clouded when you responded, so quiet it was almost inaudible. “No, you were perfect.” Unwrapping one of your hands from around his neck, your cradled his jaw, your thumb rubbing gently under his eye. “Are you okay now?”

He chuckled at your question, understanding that you were insinuating to his stressed-out state when he first came home. Shaking his head, he smiled down at you adoringly. “Much better now, thanks to you.” He noticed your unsure expression, knowing how you’d rather him talk about his problems to you so he wasn’t keeping them entirely to himself. To ease you, he continued to rub your noses together, basking in your euphoric scent. “I’ll tell you about it later... right now, I just want you.”

Still snuggled in his arms, you allowed him to walk the two of you over to your mat in the corner, sitting down first so you could lay comfortably on top of him. The sensation of still having his cock stuffed inside your walls was warming to you, keeping your hands securely around his neck and burying you head further into his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

It wasn’t long until you were flat-out, your intimate actions having completely exhausted you. Neteyam stayed awake for a little longer, listening to your comforting breathing as the stress dispersed from his body entirely. There wasn’t anything better than being with you - in any way possible, he wasn’t picky - your demeanour having the wonderful ability to soothe him, to bring him back down to earth.

Neteyam couldn’t have asked for a better mate - and he thanked Ewya everyday for blessing him with you.

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam angst #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully x female reader #neteyam sully x fem reader

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gorgonwrites · 5 months

Text

neuvillette headcanons

NSFW below the cut! minors DNI. 18+

author's note: ME AND BESTIE BACK AT IT AGAIN! oh gods, this beautiful dragon man. he deserves everything and then even more. my best friend and i are probably going to do more headcanons for more genshin characters, so expect those from me soon. enjoy! <3

So shy and timid when it comes to showing affection for another person. He’s always learning, but love is a foreign feeling to him.

We already know it, but the man is the most respectful damn gentleman you’d ever find. Always opens doors for his partner, has his hand on the small of their back to guide them, and he offers his arm when out walking. He speaks gently, and is an excellent listener.

Has a serious shrimp allergy. He doesn’t feel like he’s missing much, though.

He hates being the center of attention, and it can even cause some mild anxiety if he’s caught off guard. Sure, he’s the Iudex and Sovereign of Fontaine, but if he’s not in the courtroom don’t expect him to draw attention to himself.

Always sneezes in threes– no more, no less. He has a dedicated handkerchief he carries with him everywhere to cover his mouth, and is always as quiet as possible as to not draw attention to it. If he’s in court and it happens, the entire audience blesses him. He used to ignore it, but he’s grown quite fond of the gesture and takes it as a small human act of kindness. As a result, if he’s ever in earshot when someone else sneezes he’s the first one to give them a blessing. He never skips over an opportunity to sow the seeds of kindness wherever he goes.

He’s learning how to cook. Not horrible at it, but he loves the idea of food inspiring community. He dreams of gathering the people he cares about most and cooking them all a yummy meal one day.

Can sing! And has such a pretty voice. He also has an affinity for most musical instruments he picks up. He’s quite used to the melusines asking him to sing them to sleep.

Hardly ever gets sick (he does get stress fevers quite easily), but is used to caring for himself if he needs to. The first time he lets his partner care for him when he’s ill, he almost chokes on the vulnerability that starts to creep out of his bones.

Loves his hair being brushed or played with. This is another instance where he begins to feel vulnerable– he tries to avoid the feeling the best he can, but as he grows comfortable with his partner, he allows the feeling to make a permanent home in his chest.

He loves being held. Even as big as he is, nothing stops him from curling up into his partner's arms to let his work fade away from his whirling thoughts. He has to grow accustomed to the closeness at first, but soon he can’t end a single day without at least having a few quiet moments in his partner’s embrace.

Receiving love, Neuvillette needs physical touch, quality time, and acts of service. He gives words of affirmation and acts of service to show his love.

nsfw below <3

Has a beautiful blue marking between his belly button and his cocks that depicts his sovereign symbol.

Neuvi’s ears, neck, and horns are extremely sensitive. Don’t mess with them unless you’re ready to have your brains fucked out.

Has a praise kink (giving and receiving). Any kind of encouragement goes straight to his dicks.

On that note- he absolutely has more than one cock. He’s usually so gentle, but if he’s worked into a frenzy he might just try to shove both cocks in at once.

Has a rut cycle. When he’s not in his rut, he’s an incredibly soft lover. When he IS in his rut, don’t expect to be able to walk anywhere for a few days once his rut is over.

Has a mild breeding kink. Sometimes he can’t help but think about his partner big and round with his child and it quite literally fries his brain a bit when he thinks too much about it.

Aftercare once his rut is over is GOD TIER. Hot bubble baths, hair washing, massages, snacks, cuddles. The WORKS. He takes his time soothing his partners after completely wrecking them.

ASS MAN!!!

Has a serious overstim kink, both giving and receiving. One orgasm is simply just never enough (or two, or three, or four…).

Is almost always dominant in his sexual encounters. He can be rough, yes, but he’s never mean. Think pleasure dom or service top.

Has a body worship kink. He thinks humans are beautiful creatures and always wants to explore every inch of his partners when he can.

Loves going down on his partner– probably his favorite thing ever after discovering it.

TANTRIC SEX

Has a tail that occasionally makes an appearance if he gets too worked up. He WILL use it to fuck his partner silly.

BITING. He loves leaving bites anywhere he can, even if no one else can see them.

Will only take one life partner, though he may play with other people if allowed. Once he’s formed the bond with his life partner, they won’t ever be replaced.

Will only allow his life partner to dom him. If he’s ever topped or dommed, it's a deliberate act of giving away his power to someone he trusts completely. These are some of the rarest moments where he willingly lets his worries and vulnerability spill out, and those moments are reserved for one person only.

in conclusion, he is quite literally the best man ever.

#neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette headcanons #genshin headcanons #neuvillette smut #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact

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gorejo · 8 months

Note

do you think forbes gojo would bring up their breakup to the reader in every once in a while like “youre just gonna eat the last bite of that? how heartless, at this point who knows if you’ll break up with me again” or would he completely never mention it again :’)

EASY TO LOVE - GOJO SATORU, forbes30!au

contents: wc 800, fluff. pet names (babe, love, sweetheart). refers to a recent fic that I wrote, but I guess it can stand on its own, as well ◡̈ all you forbes30!gojo lovers, i hope you enjoy !! -> here's the link to forbes30!gojo

"babe, let's go get ready," Gojo pleaded, doing his absolute best for you to fold — you always did, if he just pressed a little more.

"nope" but today, you were adamant — you had to.

"But sweetheart, our bed is waiting for us," weaving his arms around your waist to coax you to his room, "i promise, i'll take you to work earlier than anyone in your team, just please just for tonight, hmm?"

"no, Satoru, your bed is ready for you," trying to get yourself out of his hold, huffing, "mine has been waiting for me this whole weekend."

"rude, there’s no mine and yours in a relationship," Gojo bantered — you could almost feel the pout from his lips.

"i can't, satoru," you tried to shake him off. you absolutely tried to resist his sweet voice, the soft exhales you felt with your back pressed against his strong chest, the light tickle of the ends of his hair making you feel warm and safe. these immature moments that he held every so often when you rejected his offer to stay over for the night made your heart melt at his attempt to be with you just a little more.

moments he couldn't show forth to others, but freely did so with you. a dichotomy of himself that he stored in a safe — playful yet composed — masked underneath his zeal to prove to you that he was worth your love.

"I've been here this whole weekend, I need to go home."

“false, you were technically here with me for one day,” he corrected, “the weekend isn’t over yet.”

He must be crazy because even in rejection, Satoru couldn't resist his urge to gently kiss the top of your head as he tried to persuade you, "you smell nice," your boyfriend murmured while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, "i bet you'll smell even better with my clothes, better yet naked —" he mumbled while pressing a soft kiss to your trapezius.

"i already reek of your scent," you playfully cut him off, rolling your eyes while softly chuckling.

soon feeling his teeth lightly bite your shoulder, his warm tongue licking the dents, "a-and we can't," you whimpered "i have work tomorrow, and you do too, mister."

"you're so heartless, you know?" he sighed.

groaning like a child as he pressed his whole weight upon you, forcing you to drag his heavy frame as you made your way to the front door. you often forget that this man was infamously known to be the devil at work — meticulous and strategic, his sixth sense unlike no other as he paved his way into the business conglomerate — cutthroat and unforgiving of mistakes.

yet this man here, in the eyes of others a threat, was nothing but like a little boy throwing a tantrum.

"just tell me you hate me," he grumbled.

"don't you think you're being a little over dramatic?" you struggled while trying to put on your shoes, breathless from his body weighing down on you.

"no, you're just being cruel," your boyfriend tightened his grip on you, "who knows, at this rate you might just break up with me, again," he countered.

"I —" releasing a long sigh, "Satoru, I really do want to stay... but my work is literally an hour from here."

"and?" scoffing at your ridiculous excuse, "when has that ever stopped me?"

“You’ll be tired, a-and ijichi will be so stressed if you are —”

Smirking, “cute, but baby i don’t think my stamina will be an issue," kissing the back of your neck, "you should know that better than anyone, no?" Satoru hummed into your skin, "and plus, he’s good at what he does, I don’t worry about him. so focus on me.”

"I dont have clothes."

"wow, now you're a liar? you have plenty in my closet."

"i need to wash —"

"oh gosh, i'm having ptsd right now, i feel faint," your much accomplished and well-respected boyfriend childishly acted distraught, "remember when you just left me out in the cold, to fend for myself," he faked a sob, "because I remember."

"Satoru..." you sighed.

"or when you vehemently ignored all my texts and calls, and you heartlessly dumped me?"

"we were broken up —"

cutting you off, "and don't think I forgot about you just leaving my vulnerable self all alone and butt naked in the hotel room after sleeping with me."

"oh my god, i am dating a manchild," you exhaled, pinching your nose as you felt his lips curl into a smirk, the moment you put your bags down on the floor.

you've lost — a losing battle from the start the moment you said yes to loving this foolish man.

"say you'll stay then," Gojo chimed, his lips kissing up your neck to help — expedite — your decision-making, smiling as he whispered in your ear, slowly pulling you steps closer into his bedroom, "because I can keep going, love. if that means you'll stay."

comments: nonnie, this is gojo satoru we are talking about. YES, one hundred thousand percent, yes. he'll know when to use it as a joke and tease, but he wont ever throw it in while bickering or when fighting.

he does that especially when you tell him no.

this doesn't just apply to forbes gojo!! i think it's so on par with his canon character so honestly it's just a gojo hc HAHAH

#— mailbox.#anon.#forbes30!gojo #ae.writes

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folkookie97 · 10 months

Text

❝fighting for our love❞ — jjk

— SUMMARY: ❝Jungkook always hated arguing with you. But your relationship was doomed to this habit since you rejected his wedding proposal.❞

— PAIRING: boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

— TYPE: angst | non-idol!au, established relationship

— WORD COUNT: 585

— WARNINGS: argument, couple issues, ambiguous/open ending (?), curse words

— NOTES: maybe Seven's MV teaser drove me crazy and i wrote this shit almost crying.

— RELEASE DATE: July 13, 2023

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3, wattpad, spirit fanfics

Jungkook wasn't a contentious person. What he looked up to the most in his life was tranquility; he hated being surrounded by conflicts. Arguments stressed him out and even gave him an intense migraine. It was almost as if his head could explode at any moment. He always felt like his head would explode at any moment during these situations.

The habit of arguing with other people surely has never been present in his life. However the past few months triggered his mind with an almost masochistic habit. A sudden change in his routine accustomed him to disagreements and made him competent when he needed to defend his point of view.

Jungkook always hated arguing with you. But your relationship was doomed to this habit since you rejected his wedding proposal.

"Can you at least look at me while we're arguing?" You gestured impatiently and let the silverware fall onto your still full plate.

For the first time that night, Jungkook brought his deer-like eyes directly to the woman. Her delicate face looked so pretty with the flush on her chubby cheeks and the slightly parted lips; a consequence of your breathlessness.

You looked so fucking beautiful that Jungkook almost felt guilty for his mean behavior that night.

Just almost.

"We're not arguing. You are." He calmly sipped the wine that had been served just a few minutes before.

"You must be fucking kidding me." A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clenched fists to refrain punching your boyfriend's face.

"I'm not." Jungkook shrugged after putting the glass of wine back on the table. "Have I ever been a bad boyfriend to my darling before?"

His rhetorical question carried such a bitter tone that it instantly made you feel nauseous.

Your stomach hurts as much as your heartbroken. Intrusive thoughts about flipping over every table and smashing every piece of the restaurant flooded your mind as you noticed a smile on Jungkook's lips.

You knew it wasn't appropriate to get angry in public. However your boyfriend's expression carried a sarcastic acidity that made you consider losing your first offender stabbing his tattooed hand.

"You're a fucking asshole."

"Seriously? I'm an asshole for not fighting with you?"

You overwhelmed by Jungkook's sadistic insolence under the curious gazes of the other customers.

"YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE FOR NOT FIGHTING FOR OUR FUCKING RELATIONSHIP!"

An absolute silence settles in the establishment as your scream comes to an end.

The mocking expression fades from Jungkook's face as the absence of sound takes over. He allows himself to stare at you with wide eyes and noticing dense tears flowing down your cheeks.

Jungkook knew he had no right to wipe away your tears when he was the one who made you cry. Despite everything the desire to comfort you in his arms never leaves his heart.

Jungkook remains seated when you curses at him in a pained whisper and walks towards the restroom. Time passes while he recalls about the past few months and regrets all his choices that brought your love to ruin.

He wished he hadn't proposed to you during a family dinner.

He wished he hadn't gotten angry when you said you weren't ready to get married yet.

He wished he had understood your reasons.

He wished he hadn't been a terrible boyfriend to you because of his wounded ego.

Jungkook wished never to argue again with the woman he loved so much.

Jungkook would fight for your love. He would fix it.

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sleepyangelkami · 1 month

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ECHOING NEED c.grimes

☆ WORD COUNT - 803

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - you come home dishevelled as ever after being missing for an entire week and carl attempts to pull the question out of you, where had you been.

☆ WARNINGS - blood + gore, violence, ptsd, traumatised reader, mentions of the saviors, medical attention, reader has hair, swearing, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

you sat against the infirmary chair, hair matted against your bloody forehead. the bags beneath your eyes were not a light pinkish colour but a deep purple, eyes cast away, as if your mind was replaying the moments you were trying so desperately to forget.

in all the time that carl had known you, he'd never seen you in such a state.

"you're okay, baby." his words fell on deaf ears, his hands gently soothing against the bloodied fabric of your jeans. in all the while he'd been staring at you, you hadn't dared to look back. "you're safe, you're home."

above him, denise stood over you, attempting to tend to the wound that sat on your forehead. a gash, deep enough, possibly the worst out of all the wounds your body had encountered.

behind him, glenn and rick stood. glenn had been the one to find you.

"help! someone help!" his words caught the resident's of alexandria's ears with evident stress. "somebody help me!"

carl had been standing with his father, ready to give everything up. there was a bag slung across his shoulder and his brows were furrowed together angrily. he was arguing, stating he was able to go find you himself, he wasn't going to wait on the people of alexandria to do their job. they were simply doing it too slow.

then he heard it, the stressed yells from glenn and daryl dixon standing off to the side, his face held little expression, but there was something in his eyes that sent a shiver running down carl's spine.

you, laid in glenn's arms, limp and covered in blood.

you woke in the infirmary minutes after you'd been placed on the bed. then, you'd downright begged to be sat on a chair, you didn't want to lay down, not with the flashing lights above you and everyone standing around, looking down at you.

you'd cried, begged and then you hadn't opened your mouth again.

"sweetheart?" carl had been trying to coax it out of you. what had happened, where you were. ricks questions didn't help and carl rushed forward, stating he could do it. you needed him. always. "what happened?" your eyes slowly turned to him, tears stinging the red outer corners, he'd wondered how long it'd been since you slept. he felt denise walk away, joining rick and glenn. "baby, I need you to talk to me."

you shook your head again, eyes letting the tears fall loose. "carl." you choked out, unable to breathe. all you wanted was to be cuddled up against him in his bed as he read his comics to you.

"hey, you're home, you're home." he sat up on his knees against the chair. his arms slowly wrapped around you. "nothing's gonna hurt you anymore, not while I'm here."

you knew carl enough to know he wasn't lying about that.

"baby, just tell me what happened." his fingers soothed against your hair. "just tell me what happened and it'll all go away."

oh how desperately you wanted to believe that. and in all your pain, throbbing head and haunting memories behind your eyes, your echoing need for your boyfriend was evident. "the saviors." you practically whimpered out, unable to keep it inside for any longer.

"atta girl." you felt him mumble into your hair as he took you into his arms.

for the first time in days, you felt at peace. his arms around you, soothing you gently as he hushed and cooed. you could finally bring yourself to sob, cry and ache for what had happened. carl only felt his own eye tear up lightly. he hated to hear you cry but he held you nonetheless. as much as he despised seeing you upset, he'd rather it be him than anyone else in the world comforting you. and he knew you wouldn't have wanted it any other way either.

it didn't take long for you to fall asleep again, obviously sleep deprived from wherever you'd been. carl didn't hesitate to lift you to the bed, draping a blanket over you and holding your hand gently.

he'd make sure he was the first you'd see when you'd wake up.

by now, it was just you, he and rick in the hospital room. his eye slowly lifted to his father, evident anger on his face. not even anger, pure rage. "I'm gonna fucking kill them."

rick only pursed his lips. "she needs you right now." hoping his son didn't run to do something stupid.

"I know." gazing softly at your sleeping features. "I'll take care of her until she's better. then negan better count his fucking days."

rick couldn't even argue. on the contrary, he and the rest of the group were going to help.

the saviors should know better than to mess with you.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

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finelinevogue · 1 year

Text

tears of love

summary - a whole bunch of tears and a whole bunch of love for the album of the year grammy winner

warnings: swearing, tears, shyness?!, slight media hate mention

word count: +3.6k

pairing: new-boyfriend!harry x reader

The night before the Grammys, Harry had never been more stressed.

He had tried everything to get himself to sleep, but no amount of lavender spray or chamomile tea could get his eyes to close.

He knew he needed a good night's sleep if he wanted to survive the next day, but not even a soothing bubble bath helped him settle down. So he resorted to the one person he knew would help him fall asleep, but he had been too shy to contact at first.

His phone rang as he waited for you to pick up, his bitten nails a clear sign that he was stressed with both not being able to sleep and calling you.

“Hi lovie. I’m not keeping you from anything am I?” He asked, not wanting to ruin your nighttime routine.

“No, no. Not at all. Wouldn’t even matter if you were anyways.”

Harry smiled and laid back on his bed, running a hand over his forehead and back through his hair. He pictured you in a similar position, laying in your own bed across the city. He wished you could be laying beside him instead, but your relationship was only recently new and it was too soon to be sleeping over.

There had been too many people coming and going in Harry’s life that it took him a little longer than most people to become comfortable, and safe, around the people he was dating. He was beginning to think you may be the exception though. There weren't many nights he wasn’t thinking of having you next to him always. He craved the intimacy of falling asleep with you and then waking up in the morning with you still wrapped around him.

For now, he would have to deal with the fact you were across town and would see you in a matter of hours to get ready for the Grammys.

“Thank you.” Harry said quietly, more for himself than you.

“I forgot to tell you earlier, but my mum says have fun tomorrow.” You said.

“I wish she could be there with us all. I wish my own mum could be there, y’know?” Harry sadly chuckled, wishing more than anything he could spend more time with his loved ones and ones who love him.

“I have no doubt she has subscribed to Paramount plus especially to watch the Grammys, lovie.” That much you knew. Harry chuckled and nodded because he knew you were right. His mum was his biggest supporter, as any mum should be, and he was lucky to have a mum like her.

“I know.”

“She’s so proud of you, H.” You made sure he was reminded.

“I’m more proud of her.”

“Give yourself a little credit. You’ve not always had it easy either. The way the media harrasses you, I would have given up years ago.”

“I wouldn’t have let you give up, just like you don’t let me.”

“You didn’t know me way back when, H.” You chuckled over the phone and Harry’s heart beamed like sunshine at the sound. There was no better sound for him now. Not even awards calling his name.

“I wish I did. I wish I could have met you sooner.” He replied honestly, moving one hand onto his chest and over his heart where it stopped. If he pressed hard enough he could feel you there, where his heart was beating a little extra rapidly for you. No one had ever made him or his heart feel the way you do and his biggest regret in life was not having found you and that feeling years ago. Now you existed in his life, it made all the other moments seem insignificant to the ones you were now creating together.

“Don’t think about it like we’ve wasted time, lovie. Think about it like we needed to break and fix our own hearts, to become stronger, before we could find the strength to begin again with each other. I think my heart is stronger for you than anyone else because of all the heartbreak it took to find you.”

Late night conversations with you were not a rarity, but it wasn’t common for you both to be so ‘heart-on-sleeve’ with each other. You were only 3 months into your relationship, having spoken for a couple months before that too, but both of you clearly felt something more than just a simple attraction for one another. Harry didn’t want to call it love, because he knew the consequences of falling in love too quickly, but he was scared that’s just what his feeling for you was. Little did he know you felt exactly the same way.

“I…” Harry had to stop himself short, “I think my heart is stronger for you too.”

Harry looked up at his white ceiling, running a hand over his stubble beard that he would have to shave in the morning. Then he looked over to the other side of the bed. The neat side of the bed, where the sheet was still tucked into the mattress. He ran his hand over the expanse of the vacant bed and swallowed back a tearful lump at the back of this throat.

“I miss you.” Harry said softly.

What he really meant to say was; I need you here. I love you.

You were quiet for a moment, making Harry think he said the wrong thing, but it was only because you were trying not to cry. Your heart hurt over the thought of it taking so much courage for Harry to be so open with his words. His feelings had often been so vulnerable to the crazed media and ex-partners, but with you he had never felt so safe. His feelings had never felt more protected and accepted. You knew what his words really meant and he could tell what you meant when you whispered the words back too. “I miss you too.”

I love you too.

•••••••••

Harry had gotten a good seven hours of sleep.

You had gotten a few more, since Harry had stayed on the phone to tell you stories of his life to lull you to sleep. Something about knowing you were peacefully sleeping made Harry fall asleep so easily. He knew you would be able to help, even if you didn’t realise it.

It was now only an hour before Harry had to head off to the Grammy red carpet venue. It was so hectic in his house, where he was hosting pre-drinks and the getting ready antics. Harry Lambert was busy ironing all of Harry’s outfits for the 15th time and Anthony would not stop taking photos. Jeff was busy social networking with Harry’s friends and family, whilst Harry was busy checking his phone for text messages off you.

Y/N: I’m here xx

Harry smiled, leaving his phone on top of his kitchen counter before jogging to his front door in excitement. He was dressed in a rainbow patterned jumpsuit and white boots, his hair styled so perfectly. He looked so fun and young, representing the younger generation of artists this evening.

He opened his front door and smiled so brightly when he saw you standing at the front door looking so pretty. Your hands were cradling a box of cupcakes, a bunch of flowers and a heart-shaped balloon. All of the gifts were lovely, but nothing could put a bigger smile on his face than you.

“Baby…” He pouted when he saw you, cupping his hands over his cheeks as his mouth gaped in shock.

“Surprise! Happy Grammy day!” You giggled excitedly, laughing at his initial shock and love-heart eyes on you.

“You didn’t have to do any of this.” He put his hands over his heart, itching to just have you in his arms now.

He moved forward to take the cakes and flowers off of you, placing his other hand on your waist to tug you closer to him. He softly laughed as he desperately pulled you closer and titled his head down to kiss you. He didn’t wait a single second to kiss you senseless, giving you more than just a sweet peck. Your hand not holding the balloon snaked up to around his neck and held him close, making his lips crush over yours again and again.

He tasted like a winner already with your cherry soaked lips on his.

You pulled away flustered, cheeks blushing and lips wanting so much more. You licked your lips to conceal Harry’s taste with you and Harry’s beady eyes watched every movement like he would be tested on it later.

“Y’look amazing.” Harry spoke quietly, just wanting his words to be heard by your ears.

“Thank you.” You blushed, not knowing how else to respond. “Did you forget a t-shirt?” You joked, snaking your hand down from around his neck and over his chest. His skin reacted by giving him a chill of goosebumps and a sense of pride rushed over you for being able to make him react in such a way.

“Just thought I’d get my tits out for you, baby.” He joked in return.

“And your millions of fans.” You patted his chest right over his heart he had been touching before.

“No. Just for you.” Harry reiterated, needing you to understand, like most things, he did this for you. He knew how much you loved it when he embraced his own masculinity and showcased who he truly was with his clothing, so when it came to choosing outfits for events he always kept you in mind and what you thought might be a good option. It seemed he had chosen well with the way your eyes had dilated upon taking him all in.

Harry couldn’t help but lean in to kiss you one more time, turning into two, three and four. You smiled into the end two, making it harder for Harry to kiss your soft lips but he made do anyway. He couldn’t get enough of you, not even caring that he now had lipstick on and around his own lips.

“Are you coming in?” Harry asked, always making sure you were comfortable with everything before making you actually do it.

“I need the loo, so yes please.” You nodded. Harry took your spare hand in his and he walked you through the front door, shutting it with his foot behind him.

He could tell you were nervous by the slight tremor in the hand he was holding, but he gave you a soft squeeze to let you know you were alright. He realised it was daunting to be in a room with a group of people you barely knew, apart from Harry Lambert and Jeff, so he made sure to stick close by.

All Harry ever talked about to his friends was his undying adoration for you, but the majority of them had yet to meet you because Harry enjoyed keeping you just his for as long as possible. Your relationship wasn’t public, but even if it was your social media were private so the fans wouldn’t get a hold of anything anyways. Harry’s friends knew he had someone romantic in his life, because his smile hadn’t been so bright in years.

They were all excited to meet the person responsible for the rebirth of Harry’s happiness.

“Y/N!” Harry Lambert shouted across the room, putting down his iron and walking over to you with open arms. You would’ve done the same, but Harry kept a grounding hold on your hand, which you were very thankful for, and so you let Harry Lambert reach you before hugging him the best you could.

“Hi!” You laughed as Harry Lambert hugged you.

“Oh you look incredible, darling!” He gasped as your outfit, similar to the way your Harry had.

“Thank you.” You, once again, blushed.

“Harry is very lucky.”

“I know.” Your Harry spoke up, pulling you back into his side with a tug of your hand. You smiled as he kissed the top of your head, feeling the butterflies all over. Your nerves were already calming just by having him close by like this.

“I need pictures of you two later, okay?” Harry Lambert warned you, knowing that you would both try and get out of it.

Once he had walked away, Harry walked you into the kitchen some more and dumped the cakes and flowers on the obscenely large kitchen counter. A chorus of hellos sounded as you both walked in the room and made yourselves present.

Harry took his time introducing you to every person, getting you to hug them as you did so. Everyone was so kind and lovely, complimenting you on your beauty and your outfit and your ability to bring out the best in Harry. You began to feel a little tearful towards the end of greeting people and after you were done you told Harry you were going to the toilet.

He didn’t think twice about it, until you still hadn’t come back after ten minutes. Yes, women stereotypically take longer than men in the toilet but ten minutes was quite long for you. So he went in search of you, seeing as you had to leave in five minutes anyways.

He went straight upstairs to his bedroom, knowing you would’ve chosen his bathroom rather than the downstairs one out of familiarity. He knocked on the door softly before opening it slowly. When he made it inside, he softly shut the door behind him to notice you weren’t in the bedroom. He rounded the corner to the bathroom and that’s when he saw you standing at the bathroom mirror with a tissue, drying away the tears that had clearly been running stray.

“Baby… What happened?” Harry cooed, walking in the room and urging you to face him by cupping your cheeks delicately.

You looked to the ceiling, trying to keep the next round of tears at bay, before shrugging your shoulders at Harry with a sad chuckle. “I don’t know what came over me! Just feeling a lot of emotions right now. Proud of you but then just feeling so loved and accepted by your friends.. It’s.. I.. Just, it’s a lot!” You laughed at how silly it sounded now you were trying to explain how you felt.

“Oh you emotional softie. You’re going to be a right water fountain today, aren’t you?” He rhetorically asked, but you nodded with a laugh regardless.

“I can’t control it!” You exclaimed, your eyes watering over again. Harry chuckled at you, eyes crinkling and dimples showing from smiling so hard. “I’m not even sad. If anything I’m too happy!”

“Well that’s a good thing, hmm?”

“Yes, it is. Sorry!” You apologised for crying, feeling silly. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Cry all you want, baby. It’s your day as much as it is mine. Any wins are yours to celebrate too.”

“Oh fuck off, you’re making me cry again…” You whined and Harry laughed along with your tears, before helping you reset your makeup in time to leave.

•••••••••

You were backstage at the Grammys, in a room large enough to house all of Harry’s friends and family he had brought with him.

Since you two weren’t publicly official, you decided it best if you stayed in the back room whilst Jeff, Kid and Tyler sat at the table with Harry.

You had cried so much already from Harry winning best pop vocal album and his performance was just absolutely perfect. Someone had even had to bring another box of tissues for you, since you’d finished the first one you had been given.

Anthony Pham had been taking photos of all the backstage fun and reactions, since Harry had asked to be kept updated on everything. Especially all of your reactions and enthusiasm. You had recorded yourself dancing and singing to his performance, ready to show him later.

“Oh my god, it’s the album of the year category.” Someone screamed and you pulled yourself away from the conversation you were having with Sarah to watch the screen.

You were already sitting on the sofa, but the next few moments of your life would be grateful for that.

The fans of the artists lined up on the stage, ready to give their respective artists the Grammy. Harry’s fan was an older woman and you aspired to be her when you were older. You couldn’t wait for the day you were 70 years old and still attending a Harry Styles concert with a feather boa. The woman was so cute and she reminded you of your grandma. Harry loved interacting with old people, so you were sure he would find her and hug her no matter the outcome of the award.

Trevor Noah stood centre stage and held the card in his hand. Everyone was on the edge of their seats waiting to hear the reveal for the biggest and most prestigious category the Grammys offered.

“And the Grammy for album of the year goes to…” Trevor said.

He opened the envelope and paused for dramatic effect.

You sat on the edge of the sofa, your leg bouncing anxiously. You clasped your hands together and stared at the screen so you didn’t miss a single moment.

You were confused when Trevor didn’t announce the winner and instead moved over the fan of Harry. People in the room around you started to gasp lightly, catching on to what might be. Then the woman shakily held onto Trevor as she said the name.

“H-Harry Styles.” She said before screaming in congratulations.

Your head fell into your hands as you sobbed. You had never cried so hard before, but this was an emotion worthy moment. Your sobs were heavy and loud, but they were silenced by the roar of cheers and laughter in the room. You were too buried in your hands to see, but everyone was up and screaming for Harry, running around the room. Sarah and Mitch had collapsed on one another in happiness.

Someone came and hugged you from where you were hunched over. “He did it, Y/N, he did it!” They screamed excitedly and you couldn’t help but just cry and cry. You had never felt pride like this.

Your emotions were so strong for someone who you’d only gotten to know for a mere five months. You were overwhelmed by how you felt for Harry in that moment, feeling nothing but… love.

Taking your face out of your hands you sat up and watched him with blurry eyes on the screen with his award. He himself looked really tearful and shaky with adrenaline. You just couldn’t put into words how you felt in that moment.

The next five minutes were a complete blur. From Harry accepting the award from the woman, to Harry’s speech with Tyler and Kid. After they walked offstage you started crying all over again the minute someone said; “Harry is a three time Grammy winner!”

You had no idea what you were going to say to him when you saw him, even if you saw him again tonight. No doubt he would be swept up in interviews, photos and parties. No matter, because you would have the rest of forever to express how proud you were of him.

Anthony was busy snapping photos and you reminded yourself to have a look at them later, when you could actually see past your blurry eyes.

As you started blowing your nose on a new tissue the uproar in the room started again and you shot your head around to see what was going on, only to see your boyfriend walk into the room with his Grammy held high. He cheered as his eyes watered, people patting him and ruffling his hair. Sarah gave him a tight hug and he kept on thanking her, no doubt because she had much of a part in the album as Harry did.

You kept back, wanting Harry to get treated with the love from his closest friends and family first. You kept crying, picking out new tissues from the box every twenty seconds from how quickly you were using them. You definitely knew you looked a state, shoulders shaking from crying and clapping your hands in cheer.

Harry’s eyes kept on you as he hugged the last few people, not turning his head away for one moment. You shook your head as you warned him not to come close, because he would only make the crying worse. You held out your hand to keep him at bay, walking backwards as he walked forwards. Harry was quicker than you, though, and used the arm not holding his Grammy to pick you up at the waist and give you a twirl. He spun you around, before safely landing you back down.

You laughed out a sob when you finally got to look up at him close. A strand of his hair had fallen down over his forehead, but you made no effort to move it back into place.

Cupping his cheeks with your shaky hands you licked your lips to wipe away the salty tears. His own tears were now silently falling, his eyes intensely focusing on you. His thumb was stroking soothing lines into your back and all you could think about was how he made you feel.

“Harry… I..” You started, hiccuping in between words.

Harry nodded encouragingly, “It’s okay. You can say it.” His eyebrows frowned as he anticipated what you’d say next.

“I.. I love you.” You said with a smile.

Harry smiled nodding. He knew that’s what you wanted to say, because luckily he felt exactly the same way about you.

“I fucking love you, Y/N L/N.” And his lips were on yours for the rest of the night. And the rest of forever.

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swordcreature · 3 months

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OKAY COULD I REQUEST THE TIEFLING BOYS BEING BOTTOMS WITH THEIR MALE S/O?

anon. not gonna lie. i got carried away with Zevlor a bit, i just have SO many feelings about him today. so.

hope you like this it's VERY horny and i think i need a cold shower after thinking about this too much tbh.

ty for the request <3333

Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Bottoming With Male!Tav

explicit sexual content, MDNI/18+

How the tiefling boys bottom for their male partner

Dammon:

Dammon has more experience topping than anything else – there's a thrill he gets from being in control, like how he feels in the forge, bending strong metals to his will. But that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to letting Tav take the reins.

In fact, he quite likes giving up that power after a very stressful day; something about laying back and letting Tav do the thinking for him is relaxing. Like a break from his real-world worries.

So, when Tav takes the initiate, running hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of Dammon’s body, he instinctively submits – body relaxing, tail curling around Tav’s bicep as a wet tongue runs down his chest.

He tries to play it cool, but the way his cock stands stick straight against his groin gives away the fact that having Tav top makes him a little feral. Tav calls it eagerness, the way Dammon will situate himself, chest on the bed knees, hips and ass lifted without prompting. It’s an invitation and a show. Wiggling his rear like a cat in heat.

But even then, he doesn’t like to skip right to the final act, he likes to be played with, to have Tav’s fingers take him slowly, working him open until he’s almost there. And in the moment, he swears he hates how Tav pulls his fingers away to deny him an orgasm, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him cum that much harder during sex.

Finally, when he’s perfectly worked up and damn near grinding his hips against the bed to urge on his climax, Tav takes him. And Dammon takes all of him, hips pushing back ever so slightly to be filled even more, if that were possible.

Dammon relishes in the stretch of Tav, closing his eyes to try and feel the way his girth opens him wide. They stay like that for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of Tav seated deep in Dammon’s ass.

Then he easily accepts Tav’s pace, letting his partner grab his hips to control the rhythm, even though he desperately wants to buck back, to receive him just as much as he gives. But he relents, Tav driving into him again and again in the spot that makes the edges of his vision fuzzy.

And when Tav reaches down to fist Dammon’s cock in his hand, Dammon spills immediately, too worked up to take the extra sensation without losing himself.

No matter how sensitive, he readily accepts Tav’s frantic thrusts until he comes too, both collapsing and laughing at their dopey smiles and sweat streaked brows.

Rolan:

Rolan, as cocky as he tries to be, loves nothing more than to be fucked by Tav. It’s hardly ever that he’s the one topping, let’s be real. The man enjoys watching his partner devour him, likes being hauled around and taken care of. But he would never admit that out loud.

It’s so easy to get him to relent, he basically does it without even thinking about it. The moment he feels Tav’s kisses turn wanting, he’s pliant and willing, letting Tav guide him wherever he wants.

He’s impatient, though, and after a few minutes he’s already squirming under Tav’s touch, nearly begging to be striped and fucked. Tav’s the one that needs to slow things down, but you won’t find Rolan complaining when Tav is laying him back, a pillow underneath him for the perfect angle to circle his hole with a wet tongue.

Tav has to be careful not to add a finger, or Rolan will come too fast – and he likes to take his time. Rolan whimpers – makes noises no one would ever guess have come from the smug wizard – as Tav’s tongue laps at his rim hungrily.

His face is bright red, heated as he holds his knees high, offering himself as a full course meal to his lover. The wet, debauched sound of Tav’s tongue plunging into him makes his length twitch with excitement. Tav’s pleased groans don’t help either; Rolan finds a strange pleasure in knowing how much Tav loves the taste of him.

He tries to hold out, tries to think of any mundane thoughts that could keep him from coming and keep Tav’s mouth lavishing his rim, but he knows when he’s too close to the edge, tapping out so that he can get to his favorite part.

Which is sitting on his lover’s cock, of course.

Even though Rolan is on top, Tav maintains all the control, gripping his hips hard enough to bruise, lowering him down as slow as possible to savor the way his face contorts as he’s filled entirely. Tav lifts his ass up off his cock before forcing him back down. He repeats the motion, before holding Rolan firmly against him while he mercilessly bucks his hips upwards, using his hands to spread him wide.

Rolan has to bite his cheek to keep from being embarrassingly loud, sometimes so hard that he draws blood with his sharp teeth.

He tries to reach for his own cock, wanting a touch while spearing himself on Tav, but Tav never allows it – wanting to draw out Rolan’s orgasm to match his own.

Even so, Rolan almost always comes first, painting Tav’s stomach with hot spend. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, Tav will swipe a finger through it, raising it to Rolan’s mouth so that he can taste his own cum, as Tav’s hips jerk their last few thrusts.

The next day Rolan’s hips are marked and bruised, two perfect Tav sized handprints on his red skin. Rolan loves the secret reminders he gets to feel all day.

Zevlor:

I personally see Zevlor as someone who, even as a younger man, was preoccupied with the Hellriders and his oath to care for things like seeking out sex. As he got older and was placed in a position to lead, personal relationships – sexual or romantic –just had to be put to the wayside.

All that is to say, Tav is the first man that he has ever been with, at least sexually. Even if he has been with men in the past, he’s not very experienced. And combined with the trauma he has faced recently, it’s perfectly normal that he would want to take things slower in the bedroom.

So, the first couple times he and Tav have sex, he tops, to help him feel more in control of the situation. But, when he finally starts to feel comfortable again in the bedroom, he’s open to the idea of Tav taking that role. It’s an act of trust, if anything.

He’s jittery at first, of course. Laying under Tav as they kiss, his hands slightly shaking as he holds Tav’s face. Not nerves, but an uneasy excitement, rather. But soon he’s rocking his clothed hips in time with Tav’s, meeting him in the middle to feel the friction from his hardened cock. It spurs him on.

Tav is gentle with him, slow and considerate, taking his sweet time undressing Zevlor, peppering his skin with kisses as more skin is exposed. When Zevlor’s smallclothes are pulled away, his cock is already dripping with excitement.

He’s familiar with the feeling of Tav’s hands on him, acquainted with his partner’s calloused fingers wrapping around his cock, but it still excites him, nonetheless. Especially when Tav ducks down to suck Zevlor’s tip into his mouth, still eagerly working over his length.

Zevlor is a gasper, ever move Tav’s tongue and hand makes against his cock is accompanied by a sharp inhale, like his lungs need more air. With the way Tav enthusiastically sucks at him, he just might.

He comes in Tav’s mouth, and for a second, he’s ashamed, fearful that he’s ruined their night. But Tav is happy and content, swallowing Zevlor’s spend like a sweet dessert, ready to work him up again until he’s ready to take more.

When the time comes, Tav catches him in a kiss, not stopping as he hooks both of Zevlor’s legs around his waist – the perfect angle for Zevlor to begin taking his length. And he does. He gasps and moans and sighs as Tav seats himself fully in Zevlor’s tight hole. For a moment, neither move.

Then Tav moves, slowly withdrawing his length as he gauges Zevlor’s reaction. He didn’t expect the look of pure hunger on Zevlor’s face as he digs his heels in Tav’s rear, forcing him into the hilt.

He wants to be ravaged, the feeling of Tav’s cock stretching him causing something to snap within him, a carnal need for more. When Tav sets a relentless pace, he’s in a different realm, legs spreading wider to try and feel him even deeper, if such a thing were possible.

They come together – the hardest orgasm Zevlor has ever had. Zevlor falls asleep wrapped up with Tav, feeling more in control than he ever has.

#bg3 #bg3 smut #bg3 dammon #bg3 rolan #bg3 zevlor #dammon #rolan #zevlor #dammon x tav #zevlor x tav #rolan x tav #baldur's gate 3 #my writing #requests/suggestions #anon #HCs

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