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#I want to Sleep but I want to Write but I Need to sleep and I also need to jot down these ideas before I forget aaaaaaahhh
lovifie · 2 days
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Accidentally Kidnapping Mafia Boss Price
A.K.A. Reverse Trope Writing Prompts
masterlist
cw: guns, car accident
You hate your job, and part of it, is because of how much you hate your boss.
If watching "The Devil Wears Prada" taught you anything, is that working as an assistant is an exhausting, humiliating and underpaid job.
But still... is the best one you have had.
So when your boss tells you that you need to drive his car to get his dog to the hairdresser, you agree. Because out of all the disgusting things that he makes you do, driving his way too expensive car to take his actual delight of a dog to the hairdresser and waiting two paid hours while doing anything, it's really not the worst.
Taking the keys from his desk when he tells you that the dog is already in the car waiting and that you better hurry, you waste no time in taking the elevator. Three massive men, in black suits, walk out right as you enter; catching on the corner of your eye as they walk towards your boss's office.
You recognise the car immediately, only a money freak like your boss could afford it; so without even looking at the back seat, you turn on the car making the engine roar before going out onto the road.
Missing the identical car parked behind the column.
The dog must be sleeping behind, you assume when you can't hear his usual panting. You can hear his breathing, and the sound of movement. But it's the sound of a lighter that makes you look up into the rearview mirror.
You freeze when you lock eyes with the man sitting in the back seat. Blue eyes, mutton chops and a mischievous smile on his lips.
"You are not the dog." It's the only thing you can say, thankful for the red light and the fact the car is stopped, unable to look away from the mirror.
"Well, good morning to you too, darling." He says, a deep chuckle escaping his lips around his cigar.
"You- You can't smoke here, my boss, he hates-" You mumble, trying to keep an eye out for the changing street light.
"I can't smoke in my own car, sweetheart?" He asks, cocking his head as he does.
"Pardon?" You ask, turning your head to finally look at him. The massive man sitting cross-legged on the back seat, the suit obviously expensive for the way it clings to all the right parts of his muscular body.
"I think you got into the wrong car, sweetheart." He says, resting his elbow on the door.
"No, no. This is my boss's car and you are supposed to be a dog!" You exclaim, pointing at him. "Where is the dog!?"
"Are you calling me a dog?" He asks, amusement in his voice.
"No! I- I'm supposed to take the dog to the fucking groomers, not you!" You say, exasperated.
"I wouldn't say no to a grooms session." He says, rubbing his beard as he looks into the window reflection. "The light's green."
You furrowed your eyebrow, jumping when the car behind honks at you and you start driving again.
"You should probably drive me back, though. My boys won't take nicely your attempted kidnap." He says casually, looking at the back of your head. "Especially Ghost."
"Who are you? A mob?" You ask, snickering to yourself.
"Precisely." He answers with a nod of his head. "Not to sound cocky, but have you heard of the 141, right?"
And it takes a second for the pieces to fall together, Price chuckes again when he sees your eyes widen at the realisation.
"No!"
"Yes."
"Noo!"
"Yeeah!"
"You are not!"
"I am, in fact."
"You can't be!"
"Well, I am, love."
You rub your hand over your face, quickly using it to change the destination on the GPS to go back to your building.
"I- I will drive you back, and I'll get on the car I'm supposed to, yeah? We can leave this as a funny history, right?" You ask, looking at him through the rearview mirrors.
"Sounds good with me. We wouldn't want anyone thinking you tried to kidnap me, right, love?" He asks and you quickly shake your head. "You are a good girl, right? An honest mistake?"
You nod your head eagerly, trying to fight the tears back. And something about the pathetic scene playing before him must make him feel bad because he leans forward, resting his hand on your shoulder. "It's all good, sweetheart. Let's go back."
You nod again, sniffling with a lack of decorum; and when you look forward again, you can only see a black car driving beside you. You make eye contact with the driver, coming face to face with a skeleton mask.
He then moves back, letting you see the man sitting beside him and the gun he is holding. Pointing at you.
You barely have time to raise your shoulder, moving your head down, before you feel the pain on your arm. It makes you lose control of the car, driving straight into a light pole.
You hit your head on the driving wheel knocking yourself out, and the last thing you hear before going dark is the man behind you shouting.
"Johnny, you bloody muppet!"
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It could have been hours by the time you come back to your senses, hearing the car alarm going off and the searing pain of the bullet wound on your shoulder.
"I said that one of us should have stayed with you!" You hear a muffled voice complain from outside the car.
"I don't need a nanny, Kyle. Besides, the three of you are a bigger threat than what the poor girl was." You recognise the voice as the man that was sitting behind you
"She managed to kidnap you, Price. I would call that a threat" A second mysterious voice adds.
"She was driving back! Was supposed to take a dog to get a haircut or something." The blue eyes man says.
"Eh, she's moving." A third voice says, considerably closer than the rest, urging you to move. You barely lift your head enough to see, coming face to face with the barrel of the gun.
"Make sure not to miss this time." One of the voices says.
"Johnny, lower the bloody gun!" The only voice you recognise says, the gun automatically lowering.
"But why, sir?" The man whines, apparently angry at not being allowed to kill you.
"Because you three dumbs dumbs just killed her boss when you were supposed to interrogate him, so that makes her both..." He says, leaning his arm on the ceiling of the car and looking at you. "our only source of information... And my new assistant. What do you say, sweetheart?"
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eroselless · 2 days
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UNDERNEATH YOUR CLOTHES
summary => Request: Could you write a one-shot about Charles’ girlfriend wearing one his Ferrari jerseys or like his merch w his name on it and he fucks her with it on? [2.1k]
[charles leclerc x reader]
warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut 
note: I’ve had this request in my inbox for so long and I’ve been absolutely itching to get this out. I’m such a sucker for friends to lovers so I changed it a bit to fit with the idea that I ended up rolling with.
School’s out until July so if anyone has anything they want written, send it in :) Hope you guys enjoy this first Charles request! 
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You groan at the sound of urgent knocking at your door. Groggily, you pull yourself from your bed and make your way to the door. You don’t bother switching on the lights, neon signs from outside streaming light through your half-closed blinds, making patterns on the carpeted floor. The digital clock above the stove reads 3.27 am. You peek through the peephole, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Charles, shifting from one foot to the other. You swing the door open, a yawn pulling your jaw open. You squint at him, the light becoming too much for your eyes.
“Charlie, what the fuck?” you question as Charles rubs the back of his neck. His hair is dishevelled and his cheeks are a light shade of pink. 
“I, uh, I lost my keys and my phone while I was out and I can’t get into my apartment,” He explains sheepishly. You sigh, shaking your head in mild irritation. You step aside to let him in.
“You owe me big time for waking me up at this ungodly hour.” You state, trailing behind him after locking the door. He chuckles a soft ‘of course, chérie’ before heading into your room. He makes a beeline for your closet, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off of his designated shelf. He pulls them on before reaching back and tugging off his shirt. 
“How exactly did you manage to lose both your keys and your phone in one night?" you call from outside, a hint of amusement in your voice. He shakes his head. "Long story," He replies vaguely. 
He makes his way out, switching on a floor lamp by your bed. His eyes are on you as you collapse on the bed with an exasperated sigh. You roll away from him, facing towards the opposite side of the room. You pull the sheet up to your chest, making sure to keep some for him when he tucks himself next to you. His gaze trails over your figure in the dim light, eyes catching the big 16 and Leclerc written across the back of your oversized, overworn t-shirt. He cocks his head to the side, blinking a few times, a smirk playing on his lips. 
“Are you sleeping in my race shirt?” He teases, not having noticed it earlier. You turn at the sound of his voice, letting out a sleep mhmm. Your eyes are heavy, threatening to pull you quickly back into a deep sleep. The look you share is charged with something that makes you grow warm. A familiar feeling blooms in your tummy, a feeling not typically felt towards your best friend. He narrows his eyes at you and you can see a fire beginning to build in his cerulean eyes. He stares at your body, probably longer than he should.
You’re the image of a goddess as you lay on your back innocently, hair sprawled around you, almost like a halo. He can’t help but admire the red fabric against your skin or how it clung to every curve of your body. He can see the dark material of your underwear, poking out slightly from under the t-shirt. His eyes settle on the valley between your breasts and how your nipples have pebbled against the cold air. 
A shiver runs through him as he tears his gaze away from you. He rubs at his arms, turning away from you as he does. He clears his throat, setting his watch and wallet on your bedside table.
“Are you cold at all? Do you need another blanket?” 
You mumble a quiet no, reaching a hand across the bed. He watches as you make a grabby motion with your hand, beckoning into bed. He hesitates for a moment, suddenly self-conscious of what he is wearing, or rather, lack thereof. His pants are hung low on his hips and his shirt lays on the floor by your dresser. He bites his lip as he slips in next to you. His eyes widen slightly as you grab his arm, pulling him into you. It’s not like this was an odd occurrence, having years of comfort between each other. But his mind always seemed to wander, wondering how you’d feel without the barrier of clothes between you. He adored how you proudly wore HIS name in support during races. Here, the red fabric of your shirt contrasts with the white of your sheets, it feels so much more intimate. He couldn’t get the image of how good you looked with your back to him, his name sitting between your shoulder blades. 
You can feel him tense up as you settle under him, his head lying on your chest. The shirt is thin enough that he can feel the goosebumps blooming across your skin as the cold air drifts through the sheets. He has to stop himself from letting his hands (and his mouth) wander over the fabric of the shirt. 
It seems to him like you’re drifting back into sleep as he lays wide awake. He feels your hands wander over the large expanse of his back, your touch sending goosebumps down his spine. Your fingers take their time feeling over every mole and scar littered over his skin. You knead his thick muscles, a rumble escaping Charles’s lips as you dip your fingers in every dip and hill. His breath is hot on your skin as he shoves his head in the crook of your neck. 
Your eyes don’t feel as heavy when your hands find their way closer to the waistband of his pants. They settle there for a moment before you decide to slip a finger under it, pulling at it and releasing it. It snaps against his skin, a yelp escaping him. 
He lets out a laugh, quick fingers poking at your side. You thrash under him, howls of laughter bouncing off the walls. He blows raspberries into the thin skin of your neck, only causing you to squirm further. 
The energy slips from the room as you both stop to catch your breath. He’s suspended over you, supporting himself with his arms on either side of your head. The fire you’d seen earlier burns in his eyes as he looks down at you. It burns at the line you’re both afraid to step over, knowing full well that if it burns it away completely, there’ll be no going back. His eyes are locked on yours. They’re dark, their usual blue now as dark as a storming sea. Your eyes trace over the curve of his cupid’s bow and flicker up to his eyes once again. 
The warmth in your lower belly returns as he leans down and presses a tantalizingly slow kiss on your jaw. His hand cups the back of your thighs and you're suddenly hyperaware of the thin and increasingly wet fabric of your underwear. You let out a quick breath as he drags his lips over the column of your neck. The hand that isn’t supporting him slides up your body and under your shirt, gently grazing at your ribcage. You slip a hand away from his body, meeting his under your t-shirt. Sliding it higher, you bring his hand up to your breast. His fingers pinch teasingly at your puffed-up nipples, pulling a whine from your lips. 
“Charles…” you moan out, eyes opening and meeting his as he pulls away. Your eyes meet, the room going quiet again. 
In an instant, his mouth is on yours, tongue swirling with yours. You can taste hints of tequila on his tongue, no doubt the reason why he lost his keys and phone. He moves to sit on his heels and you follow his lips, already intoxicated with them. 
His arm wraps around you, pulling you snugly onto his lap as he settles at the head of the bed. The bulge in his pants is pressed deliciously against your crotch. You let out a gasp as he grips tight onto your hips, moving you over his hard-on. 
“You look so pretty in Ferrari red,” he murmurs, teeth nipping lightly at your neck. The pads of your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding onto him like a lifeline. A smile tugs softly at your lips. 
He hesitates as his fingers drop to the waistband of your underwear. He fiddles slightly with the fabric, mimicking what you had done earlier and snapping it gently over your skin. You felt a gasp get pulled from your chest as his hands began to move under the fabric, pressing into the bundle of nerves at your very center. Your voice comes out in broken fragments:
”Charlie, please…” you beg.
You don’t quite know what you're asking for. For so long, you’d unconsciously ached for him. Your own fingers would find their way into your underwear and with your eyes squeezed shut, you’d try to imagine that they were his. His touch now feels almost overwhelming. You crave the weight of his body pressing you down, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your most sensitive parts —
“Fuck,” he cries out, hips bucking up into yours. He squeezes at your breast, biting at your nipple over the fabric. You go to pull the shirt off, needing to feel his lips on your skin when he stops you, eyes hazy and glazed over with lust.
“No,” he says shaking his head. “Leave it on.” his fingers now travel downwards, pressing at your clit through your wet panties. You take in a sharp breath, head falling back. He circles it, thumb and pointer finger pinching at it slightly. 
“Need more,” you slur. He meets your gaze, a soft pink adorning his cheeks.
“Need my cock, mon coeur?” You nod instantly. You go up on your knees, giving him the chance to pull his sweatpants just enough to free his cock. It taps gently at your stomach, precum already beading at its tip. You draw your finger over its slit, a thin sting appearing as you pull away. Charles lets out a groan under you, eyes swimming with desire.
You climb off quickly, pulling off your panties and dropping them to the floor. Charles can’t take his eyes off of you as you swing a leg over his lap, his hands going to take hold of your thighs. His eyes float to where your grab him and bottom out on his cock. The squeeze you give him is so much better than he had anticipated. His mouth falls open as you take him in fully, he can’t believe he’s gone this long without ever feeling you all around him. You grind your hips against his, setting a rhythm. 
“t’es une si bonne fille, tu me prends tout entier,” he groans. such a good girl, taking all of me. His hands feel like they have nowhere to go but to the globes of your tits as they bounce deliciously in front of him. He pulls at the hem of your shirt, twisting it and pulling it up. Your tits burst out from under the fabric, nipples pebbling at the cold breeze in the air. He wraps his lips around them, teeth teasing them gently. Your back arches at the feeling, only pressing them further into his face. He was hooked how the fabric of the shirt ripples over your chest and the taste of your skin on his tongue.
“P-putain..” he whimpers, coming up for air. He lets out grunt as he plants his feet on the bed, lifting his hips fucking into you with force. Your lips part as the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates through the room. His hands go to your ass, fingers digging into the suple flesh as he rocks you against him. Your hands take refuge on his chest, gasping as he hits your sweet spot. You feel so full with him as he continues to move at a steady pace. 
He brings his lips up to yours, groaning softly against your panting lips. It only spurrs you further, circling your hips to meet his as he continued to rutting his hips up into you. You can feel your orgasm nearing, a wave of pleasure coming over you. It envelops you, suffocating you as it crashes down. 
Charles can’t hold it any longer, lifting you off of him as strings of cum spill from his cock, coating his stomach. You sit on his thighs, just beyond the reach of the spurts. He looks incredible, cheeks red, lips swollen, chest heaving. You feel like you’re under a spell as you drag a finger through the warm cum on his stomach and tuck it between your lips. His eyes seem to sparkle, a new flame appearing suddenly in them.
“Can we go again?” his voice cuts through the suddenly silence in the room. With an innocent meeting of eyes, there is only one response that can escape you lips. There’s a grin playing on your lips, finger still caught between your teeth. An astounding answer echoes through the room with no words spoken, it has the two of you tossing around the sheets until the sun comes up. You’re gonna have to wear his name more often.
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mirohlayo · 3 days
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GIRLY GIRL : A LANDO'S
PERFECT MORNING
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( In which your boyfriend needs to follow your his 3 step morning routine, which is undoubtedly your favorite time of the day. )
warning : none just pure fluff, lando being the SWEETEST boyfriend ever
note : I didn't plan on writing this much but it doesn't matter cuz I'm glad I did because it makes it even cuter
word count : 2.5k
9:30 - skincare time
“Just 5 more minutes, please, baby”. Lando snuggles up closer to you, his face hidden in the crook of your neck. If there is one thing that Lando hates above all else, it is having to get out of bed and at the same time abandon you when he only wants one very specific thing, and that is to cuddle you all the day, and sprinkle your face with thousands of kisses.
And he hated leaving bed even more during lazy mornings.
"Lan, I love lazy mornings too but I need to get up and prepare myself for the day". You move slightly so that you can have a view on him. “Why should you get ready when we’re going to spend the day at the apartment?” His hoarse morning voice is only a reflection of the long but pleasant sleep he spent last night.
“Because I want to feel clean, fresh and pretty.” You place a light kiss on his hair. “But you look stunning all the time, how could you be even prettier?” A shy smile takes its place on your morning face, while a slight chuckle emanates from your body.
"Come on Lan, please. It's time for your favorite part of the day." At this sentence, you feel your boyfriend's body slumped on top of you suddenly straighten up, his face just inches from yours. A most adorable smile appears on his lips as he places a light kiss on the tip of your nose.
"That's right. Let's get you prepared, pretty girl." A gaping smile creeps onto your face as you feel the thick white blanket of your bed slide, revealing your bare legs to the cool morning air. Lando helps you out of bed, gently and lightly taking your hand, as you disappear into the bathroom.
“Skincare time, love”. You place your few skincare products on the edge of the sink, in a certain order so that your boyfriend doesn't make a mistake in the steps of your skincare. Lando pats the small padded stool stored next to the sink, so that you can sit on it comfortably.
Sitting down, you carelessly tie your hair into a ponytail, ready to receive your daily morning skincare. “Should I start with this?” Lando’s soft voice tickles your ears as he stands close in front of you. His blue-green eyes peer curiously at the product in his hands.
The way he cares about the product is just adorable, and you can't help but crack a smile. “Yes, I always start with the toner.” With a nod, your boyfriend unscrews the cap of the product and generously pours the liquid into the palm of his hand.
"Are you ready ?". Lando asks you carefully, to make sure you're comfortable enough. This thought, the fact that he is always so caring and attentive to making you comfortable, for fear of doing something wrong or hurting you, warms your heart because there is nothing more adorable than this subtle but yet important gesture.
You nod your head quickly, and while Lando lets a most precious smile appear on his face, he very delicately applies the product to your cheeks, your forehead, your chin. He is very careful, and caresses your face with a frail delicacy, which leaves you overwhelmed by a wave of comforting warmth.
His touch is soft, delicate, as if he was afraid to touch you, or at least as if he was afraid of the idea of damaging you. “Your skin is really beautiful.” He didn't hesitate to say these few words to you, without really thinking about what was coming out of his mouth. You crack a big smile as you giggle adorably.
This sweet laugh, this sweet sound that reaches Lando's ears makes him miss a few heartbeats. How can a sound be so sweet? It's probably the one and only thing he could die for.
“Oh, I know this product. It’s your serum, right?” The enthusiastic intonation of his voice and the glint of excitement in his eyes gives you the effect of a wave of admiration. Your gaze becomes softer, as you stare at him intensely, with hearts in your eyes. “That’s it, baby.” The smile of victory and pride he displays when he has just realized that he is gradually learning to know your skincare by heart consumes you so pleasantly.
Because you know how much your boyfriend literally loves doing your skincare for you. He likes taking care of you, being able to touch and caress your skin delicately. See your being relax under his delicate touch, while he takes the time to perfectly apply the products to your skin. It's something that will never leave him indifferent, always obsessed with the way his heart savors every moment spent with you.
9:50 - hairstyle time
Your skin has finally finished absorbing all your skincare products, and after storing the products in the small cabinet hanging on the wall, you come and grab your hairbrush. “Hey, it’s my job to get you ready, I want to do your hair too, princess.” Lando takes the comb from your hands as he places his hands on your shoulders so you can look at yourself in the mirror in front of you.
The desire is too much, so he comes without further delay to place a kiss on the top of your head, inhaling the delicious smell of your shampoo from the day before. Then, with fluid and delicate movements, he begins to gently brush your hair. Combing slowly so as not to hurt yourself and to avoid big knots in your hair.
You close your eyes, lightly enjoying the moment, and allow yourself to be sensitive to your boyfriend's touch. It always manages to give you a relaxing, even comforting feeling. As if ultimately, he was the solution to your worries, the ultimate solution to your happiness.
“What hairstyle do you want today, gorgeous?” He asks you this simple question, still with this look of concentration planted on his face. You thought vaguely, taking a quick look at the hairstyles you could wear. “Just a simple braid, please.” Lando nods slowly, muttering a low "mm'kay", indicating the fact that he is focused.
He places the brush back on the sink, as he separates your hair into three equal parts. Then, he begins to braid the strands together, crossing them one after the other to obtain a pretty long braid. He braids your hair with absolute delicacy, and it's as if you feel transported to paradise. Everything is perfect.
“I love styling your hair y’know. It’s relaxing. Especially when I see that it also relaxes you a lot.” He offers you a most daring and mocking smirk, while you feel yourself blushing profusely. Your eyes meet in the mirror and you have to look away, too embarrassed.
“You’re cute, baby.” You don't react to his comment, since your body is already taking care of it by coloring your cheeks even more a pretty pink. And Lando loves that he has such an effect on you. Since usually you're the one who makes him completely feral.
Your soft hair that slipped under his fingers is now braided, and Lando comes to tie it using the elastic around his wrist. The rubber band he never takes off, in case you need it when you complain that you lost them all. It has become a real bracelet for him now.
“I’m proud of myself.” Lando smiles to himself as he gazes at your hairstyle, savoring the beauty of your hair. You stand up and turn around to place a quick kiss on his lips. "You did a great job. It's pretty". He grins at you, as his arms wrap around your waist, squeezing it softly.
“Not as pretty as you.” He gives you that cute smile back as you roll your eyes in amusement. “You have improved your flirting skills since we met.” You points out. His eyes fall to your lips, eagerly waiting to kiss them. “I knew I had to improve to be able to pull a girl as beautiful and amazing as you.”
You let out a laugh as he smiles goofily at your behavior, taking the time to readjust your braid as your body presses against his chest. It's in these moments, these innocent moments, that Lando finds comfort, that he feels his heart beating a little harder for you.
10:10 - outfit time
You stop in front of the large dressing room that you share with Lando. His clothes are stacked in a haphazard and very disorganized way, it's simply untidy. You take a look at your clothes, waiting for Lando to choose your outfit of the day.
You feel his hands place on your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck. “What should I wear today, baby?” Your question makes him move again, and taking a few steps forward, he begins to examine the different pieces of clothing you own.
"Something sexy. Hot and sexy. You'll look so good in that". He tries to show you a very tight top but you stop him by hitting his arm teasingly. “No, today I want to feel comfortable.” You protest, placing your hands on your hips. “You’ll feel comfortable when I take it off you.” He protests, offering you a smirk.
You poke his ribs and he contains a little scream. He ends up giggling, amused by the situation and the fact that he embarrassed you so easily. You sigh, looking at the mountain of clothes overflowing from the closet. “What color should I wear?”
"Pink. I think pink suits you really well." He takes out a pink hoodie from the closet, from Daniel Ricciardo's "enchanté" merch collection. His eyebrows furrow as he holds the item of clothing with his index finger and thumb, displaying a look of disgust.
"Eww. I didn't know you had a Daniel brand hoodie. It's horrible." You scoff dramatically as you snatch the sweater from his hands. "Excuse me ? I love it, it's so comfy." You hold it against you, glaring at your boyfriend. He raises his eyebrows, surprised.
"Ain't no way you'll wear that... awful thing." He approaches you, grabbing the hoodie from your hands and throwing it behind him. "You're all mine, you can only wear my hoodies or those of my brand. No Daniel or other drivers." His arms come to wrap around you as he presses you against him. He leaves soft kisses on your neck.
“Huh, much jealous.” You kiss his cheek as he snuggles closer to you. "Of course I'm jealous. You're my girl, not his." His voice is muffled, but quite noticeable. You giggle weakly as you play with his curls. "I only have eyes for you, baby. Don't need to worry."
He pulls back to smile at you like a child, a silly smile but so adorable. “Well, that still didn’t help me find my outfit.” You point at the wardrobe as your boyfriend finally finds some clothes. He ends up choosing a pink lounge set, comfortable but thick enough to keep you warm. Everything you need.
You don't wait any longer before locking yourself in the bathroom to change, and returning to the room where Lando is waiting for you, dressed in your outfit chosen by him. As you enter the room, his eyes fall directly on you. And you really think you're going to melt under his gaze.
His eyes are filled with hearts as he doesn't hesitate to stare at you intensely, a gaze burning with love and affection. “Stop staring at me please.” Your voice is a low whisper as you feel more shy. You never stopped feeling special every time Lando complimented or admired you, despite the fact that he did that several times a day.
It's stupid, but he always looks at you with such passion and ardor that it was impossible not to feel that same feeling of happiness. That feeling that makes you feel so unique and precious in his eyes. Because after all it is.
"Lan, you're staring at a bit too much." You snap your fingers in front of him to snap him out of his thoughts. He comes back to his senses and stares at you as intensely as ever. "Sorry, but how could I not stare at the most beautiful woman in the world? It's unfair how gorgeous you are."
Your brain doesn't think any further before coming to kiss him passionately. His arms wrap around your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer to him. As you pull back, he pecks your lips a second time. And then he admires you.
For a moment, there is silence. A deafening and noisy silence, but because it emanates words of love. Unspoken words of affection, but yet you already know them without even having to say them to yourself. Because after all, no one knows how to describe the love you have for each other better than yourself.
“Mornings like this are my favorite. I do your skincare, your hair, and choose your clothes.” You can't contain a laugh, as Lando looks at you perplexed. “You’re such a girly girl, baby.” His eyebrows furrow slightly as he tilts his head to the side.
You continue to laugh while Lando still looks at you confused. “What does girly girl mean?” He asks curious. "Basically when you're a woman, and you like to take care of yourself. I don't know how to explain it, you have to be a woman to be able to feel it." You explain to him kindly.
“Does this mean that women have superpowers?” He asks innocently, and that cute face he shows forces you to quickly kiss him on the lips. "No, not really Lando. But it's just that you give girly girl vibes, because you like to take care of me." You keep giggling.
“Is it really that bad if I love taking care of my beautiful girlfriend?” He grins at you, almost kissing you by the way. You smile with all your teeth, shaking your head. "Not at all. It's even my favorite thing in the world." He smiles even wider at your words, feeling overwhelmed by love. “Good, because I wasn’t planning on stopping.” His lips press against yours, in an eternal passionate kiss.
After all, he was right. Is it so bad to take care of the person you love most in the world? Because for Lando, it's certain, there is nothing in the world that can match the mornings where he is lucky enough to be able to be next to his favorite person, the one for whom his heart continues to beat very hard every minute, each day that passes.
It is in the tenderness of his caresses on your skin, in the gentle gestures of his hands in your hair, in the innocence of his taste for your outfits, that Lando feels free, loved and happy. That he feels at home, that he really feels in his place, alongside his girlfriend, alongside the one he will love for the rest of his life, forever, because he has known it since day that he laid eyes on you: his heart is in your hands, and it will never stop beating for you. For the girl he always dreamed of having.
For the girl he hopes will wake up next to her, every morning, for the rest of his life.
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nevvdrinksteaa · 2 days
Text
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: 18+ nsfw smut, porn w/o plot, afab reader, p in v sex, post prison spence, praise (no one can ever take the phrase good girl from me, it’s mine), HEAVY breeding kink (pls someone give him a child (by someone i mean me)), phrases like “make you a daddy” and “fill you up” etc
word count: 650
i cannot get this idea out of my head and i need to write it down so i can finally sleep peacefully
~~~
“you gonna fill me up?”
the words that came out of your mouth were rapid and unsuspecting, spencer brought the conversation up to you earlier that morning, the idea of a baby, starting a family, settling down. you told him you weren’t sure and would have to breach the idea another time, after you had some time to think about it. but after seeing how good he was with jj’s kids at rossi’s dinner party, you quickly had your mind made up.
you felt spencer’s hips stop, the once quick motions of him moving his dick in and out suddenly pausing. you opened your eyes, feeling your brows furrowing in confusion.
“what’s wrong?” you moved your hand from spencer’s back to his face, stroking his cheek lightly.
he moved your hand from his cheek up to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss before interlocking your fingers.
“say it again”
you smiled to yourself, chuckling softly before you rolled your hips up to his, restarting the motions. you pulled spencer’s head down, your lips trailing up his neck, peppering kisses on his skin. you moved your lips from his neck before whispering in his ear. “i want you to cum deep inside”
spencer’s hips started back up, moving in a deep sensual manner. “you want me to fill you up baby? fill up this little pussy?”
spencer moved his hand to your breast, pulling and pinching at your nipples. you felt yourself clench around him, becoming hotter at the words between the two of you.
“want to give me a baby spence? make you a daddy?” you heard a loud groan, his grip on your hips getting tighter. you could hear the wetness of your cunt, the sound squelching from the quickening pace of spencer’s hips.
spencer moved back, pulling your legs up to his shoulders, deepening the angle. he moved one of his hands to your stomach, fingers glazing lightly. “gonna fuck you full of my cum baby, fuck it deep into you. want you to give me a baby”
you couldn’t think straight, the knot in your stomach forming and your mind full of fuzz. your brain couldn’t form a coherent sentence, quickly nodding as tears started to prickle in the corners of your eyes.
“can feel you squeezing me so tight darling, i can feel you’re so close” spencer’s hand fell to your clit, rubbing in quick circles, keeping his other hand firm on your stomach, like if he moved it, the whole idea wouldn’t work. “so good for me, such a good girl for taking me like this. gonna fill you up right here” he placed two gentle taps on your stomach, right above your bellybutton.
“fuck spence, i’m gonna cum” your voice sounded distant, like it wasn’t your own, following your statement with a string of please.
“look so pretty for me, gonna put a baby in you”
you felt yourself come undone with a loud moan, your thighs shaking and eyes rolling back. spencer’s pace quickened, hips snapping against yours at a brutal pace, sweat forming on his brows, face and chest red, before you felt his beat skip. his throat releasing a string of sharp curses, eyes pinching shut, and his dick stopped deep inside you, filling you up. spencer leaned forward, keeping your bodies pressed together. he pressed his lips to yours, placing his forehead on yours upon release. he let out a small sigh and you chuckled, curling his brown locks around your fingers.
“not that i’m complaining but i thought you said you needed time to think about it” he moved his face down to your neck, marking you up, eager to go again.
“i made up my mind fairly quickly, i know you’ll be such a good dad spence, we’ll be such a good family.”
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luveline · 1 day
Note
would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹
You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 
“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 
“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 
“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 
You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 
“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 
You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 
“No. They gave me tramadol.” 
Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 
Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 
The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 
“You okay?” 
“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 
“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 
“I’m your Unit Chief.” 
“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”
He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 
You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 
You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 
“I’ve been busy.” 
“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 
“I wish I did something that sensible.” 
You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 
“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 
His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 
“Not enough.” 
“No, I guess not.” 
You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 
“It wasn’t purposeful.” 
“No? That’s good.” 
“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 
“Morgan’s a big boy.” 
“As opposed to me.” 
“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”
“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 
“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 
Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 
“I don’t like him,” you say. 
“As opposed to me.” 
You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 
“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 
Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 
It’s an obvious lie. 
“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 
His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 
“You can finally get some rest.” 
He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 
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bby-deerling · 1 day
Note
Not sure if you are taking requests and/or suggestions, but I would die for a "Who did this to you?" or a "Who hurt you?" HC for female reader with, at least, Sanji, Law, Kid, Zoro and Ace. You can add more if you'd like! 🤩🤩🤩
I loooooove your writting! 👏🏻🙌🏻🫶🏻 And, obviously, you don't need to write this if you don't want to! 💯🥰
R.J.
this is a little bit of a monkey's paw because i decided to subvert this trope for these scenarios >:)
who did this to you?
ft. sanji, zoro, ace, kid, and law
masterlist || commissions
tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @fanaticsnail @indydonuts @sanjisprincesswifey
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sanji
"dearest, who did this to you?" he asks with wide eyes full of concern as he rakes his fingers through the choppy tresses of your hastily cut hair. you usually entrusted sanji with giving your locks a quick trim, but with him being wrapped up in the whole arranged marriage gone wrong thing, you had to turn to one of your other crewmates to get rid of the pesky strands that were flying in your face. based on the haphazard way the layers were cut, the cook assumes that you, for some unknown reason, had entrusted luffy or chopper with the task; however, he finds himself being proven dead wrong as nami pipes up and raises her hand.
"i did!" she exclaims proudly, eyes sparkling as she stands tall, making sanji switch up his attitude completely about your new style, spinning around and singing out a string of over the top praises for her. rolling your eyes, you grab his arm and yank on it, taking him somewhere more private to talk.
"tell me what you really think, sanji." you hiss as you drag him into the kitchen, glaring at him as you cross your arms. he pauses for a moment, not wanting to hurt your feelings; however, he knows that in the moment, what you need from him is honesty, so he tells you that hair grows back, before reassuring to you that you're just as beautiful in his eyes, even with a bad haircut.
zoro
slumping down at the breakfast table with little to no sleep, you and zoro are too tired to even think about hiding any of the marks he left across your neck last night, until your friends start commenting on them.
"geez, you look like you got attacked by a wild animal!" nami exclaims, bewildered as she stares at the darkening purple bruise along your throat.
smug as he downs his mug of coffee, zoro smirks as he leans back in his chair. "huh. i wonder who did that." he says, his grin getting wider as he watches the cook start angrily stabbing at the sausage on his plate. nami and usopp yell out a "gross!" and stick their thumbs down at him as they continue to stuff their faces with food.
"there's a wild animal that snuck on the ship?" luffy exclaims, already mentally making a plan to hunt it down and have sanji cook it up.
"no, just an uncivilized mosshead." sanji spits out, sparking an argument with the swordsman that ends up having to be broken up by robin, who spawns hands to grab both of them by the scruffs of their neck and plop them back into their chairs to continue eating.
ace
"who did this to you, huh? was it me?" ace teases as he pokes at the warm flush on your cheeks; he had been relentlessly flirting with you all day, but you were left tongue-tied unsure of whether he was serious or just teasing you to pass the time. "y'know, you're so cute when you're flustered." he continues with a grin, gently squeezing your waist.
"t-thanks!" you sputter out, struggling to look him in the eyes as his other hand finds your waist and your line of vision gets shadowed by the brim of his hat. "ace, do you like me? like, actually like me?" you squeak out, so uncharacteristically meek as your nerves make you worry about misinterpreting a bit of playful fun.
"'course i do. you're so silly sometimes, worrying about stuff like that." he says with a grin as he leans in and presses his lips to yours, melting the swirling storm in your head away with his warm, heated lips.
kid
"who the fuck did this to you?" kid growls as his hands trail along a few small bruises on the side of your hips one morning. you look at him with knitted brows, unsure if he was serious or not.
"you did, you fucking idiot! don't you remember?" you snap at him; even if kid hadn't noticed how rough he had been with you last night, there was no way you could forget the way his fingers indented into the plush skin of your hips as he pounded you into the mattress.
his expression screws up for a moment as he tries to recall what he did, until he realizes that maybe his grip had been just a bit too tight; nevertheless, he decides to continue to play dumb to try to swing the situation in his favor. "still not coming to me. you're gonna have to walk me through it 'til i remember." he says with a wolfish grin; however, you simply roll your eyes and sigh.
"i'm still too sore. ask me later." you scoff as you roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom to run a brush through your hair.
worth a try, he thinks to himself as he gets up with a grunt, joins you in the bathroom, and starts to do the same.
law
"tch—who did all of this to you?" law says with a low chuckle as he loops an arm around your waist and pulls you close; the rest of the crew were in their boiler suits, but you were done up so pretty that his heart nearly stopped when he caught a glimpse of you for.
bepo jumps up in the air raising his hand and eagerly taking the credit; when law had called from the sunny telling the crew he'd be back to zou in a few days, he'd asked for a second alone with you—that the rest of the crew eavesdropped on—where he told you to wear something nice for him. the navigator had taken this task very seriously and convinced some of the other minks to turn you into a creature somewhere between a princess and a goddess.
"well, you look gorgeous." he murmurs, unable to keep himself from planting a chaste kiss on your lips, though the rest of the crew clapping and cheering makes you both pull apart and shoot them red-hot glares.
"quit making it weird!" you both snap simultaneously, faces burning red as your friends let out a sea of laughter.
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crybabycrry · 2 days
Text
wife abby hcs
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unneeded & unnecessary synopsis: HAPPY WIFE HAPPY LIFE🗣️
warnings: fluff, nsfw/smut, abby being so in love w/you, and being such a simp for u bc i said so, me being a bit cringe lol, nd that’s it i think.
note: me and @flor4de4amor were talking about wife aviator!abby and it gave me the idea to write wife abby hcs bc i need her so bad like?? abby if you can hear us… abby please save me please save me abby PLEASE🙏 anyway these are for you pooks:33
daily click. don’t buy tlou. read this. and this. help palestine
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౨ৎ wife abby who loves to spoil you. if you ever mention to her that you want something she will get it for you. and you rarely ever want anything but when you do, abby will almost always get it for you bc she just loves you so much and loves to see you happy bc happy wife happy life.
౨ৎ wife abby loves to cook for you. like zero questions asked, if you say one thing abt food abby already had her apron on and ready to cook. anything you want she will cook it for you. and abby will put her WHOLE ass in to that meal(not literally)and make sure that it is perfect to the touch. quality meals meals for her girl only bc once again happy wife happy life.
౨ৎ wife abby who loves to have movie night with u<33 bc duh who don’t like it a movie night, AND with abby like?? anyway. she’ll set up pillows and blankets and get the bed/couch all comfy for the 2 of you, the lights off, only the light from the tv shining throughout the room. snacks, and your fav movie like?? you and abby would be all cuddled up together hands all over one another, your head on abby’s chest and she’s pulling you so close into her. and she knows you loves these movie night sm they make you so happy and again happy wife happy life.
and if we’re talking abt a movie night turned into hot, steamy sex😵‍💫🤤 abby would have her hand on your thigh moving it up ever so slightly and when she gets to the BIG wet patch on your underwear??? oh your done, like the next thing you know she’s knuckles deep inside of you, pulling out moans from you. pleasing you, and overstimulating you the point of wanting her to stop, but it’s so good you just can’t your so happy, and happy wife happy life!!!!!!
౨ৎ wife abby who loves to sleep next to you and wake up next to you. her arms all around you, your face in her chest, or or you back into her front with her arms around your middle-stomach-waist hugging you sooooooo tight<3 and abby is like 1000000% a morning person don’t even argue with me there’s not point, and she’s always wake up before you and(in the most cutes and non-creep way) watch you sleep bc you just look so cute while you sleep. and to wake you up abby would place kisses to your shoulder or face and it would tickle a little and you’d wake up to her beautiful face ugh. and you’d be so happy to have her be the first thing you see. happy wife happy life<3
౨ৎ wife abby who every time you go out always has to hold your hand. bc she wants to be close to you & bc she loves to have your hand in hers. BUT SHE JUST LOVES TO HOLD YOUR HAND SHBSBSV. and it makes you happy that abby wants to hold you hand and again happy wife happy life
(who also just in general loves to hold you hand and hand a hand on you at all times<3333333 in the most non-toxic possessive way:33)
౨ৎ wife abby who will literally do everything for you when your sick or even just a little under the weather. or even if your in your period and having really bad cramps:(( she’ll cuddle with you, make you food, get you anything you want, hang out with you. and she’s be so gently with you and sweet<33 and when your sick she hate to see you like that because your in soooo much pain and she wishes she could take all of it away and make you happy because happy wife happy life.
౨ৎ wife abby who loves to have you next to her when she cooks. doesn’t matter if you’re sitting on the counter or a chair or even standing next to her, abby has to have u be with her while she cooks. for reasons like: talking to her bc who wouldn’t what to talk to abby??, bc you two live alone and she doesn’t want you to be all alone while she’s busy doing smt, and you get to taste that food while it’s being made. and who wouldn’t want all that???? and you enjoy being with abby in the kitchen so much that it makes you so happy…. happy wife happy life<3
౨ৎ wife abby who loves to bring you breakfast in bed:((( it’s soooo cuteeee. you wake up to the smell of your favourite breakfast and abby is there too?????? like ughhhhh and she took the time out of her day to make it look all pretty for you(ofc she did)
౨ৎ wife abby who loves to fuck you good. she doesn’t make love she fucks hard(i’m sorry)(but fr she does LOVE to make love with you😈) she loves to have soft intimate sex with you. whether it’s with a strap, her fingers, scissoring, eating u out ALL of it slow and soft just how both you and abby like it. but that also doesn’t mean you don’t like it rough sometimes😼😼 letting her hit from the back, front, riding her, left side, right side, legs up, legs down, over her shoulder, all positions and everywhere. and it makes you so happy. the last time HAPPY WIFE HAPPY LIFE🫶
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foreingersgod · 2 days
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Can you write kate Martin x reader that she’s completely whipped by but they get into an argument and Kate says something she didn’t mean?
Wedding Planning . KM
pairing: kate martin x reader
synopsis: kate says something she doesn’t mean and it puts your relationship at risk.
A/N: guys i think this is my favorite kate fic so far
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
it had felt like you’ve known kate for a lifetime, having been together for 5 years. so naturally, when she proposed to you on your anniversary, you could hardly contain your excitement. there were tears, kissing and laughing (and the best engagement sex ever). it was the absolute best night of your life.
since you were a little girl you had dreamed of your wedding. you were obsessed with wedding dresses and falling in love, constantly imaging what your life was going to look like. when you’d play outside you’d make wedding bouquets out of wild flowers, or when you would draw portraits they’d always depict you walking down the isle. now that you were grown and engaged to the love of your life, you couldn’t wait to get started on planning the wedding.
kate, although she was equally ecstatic to get married, wasn’t as keen on wedding planning. she was more laid back with decisions and didn’t have any particular opinions on how she wanted it to look. ‘just as long as you’re happy, babe’ she would say. you didn’t mind all that much, in fact it made your life easier. you had full reign to make your wedding exactly how you had pictured it.
on the downside, it felt like you were doing this all alone when you really wished it was something you two could do together. you just wanted to sit down, after kate came home from practice and you from work, and look through different flowers and centerpieces. you wanted to do cake testings and pick out color schemes. but kate’s answer was always the same when you asked: ‘whatever you like, i like’.
you knew that possibly couldn’t be true. kate was an open book and you knew literally everything about her. there had to be at least one cake flavor she despised or one flower she didn’t like, there’s no way she was fine with anything. sometimes you felt irritated that there weren’t any disagreements about the wedding, she accepted any ideas you threw her way and it really bothered you. planning a wedding, throwing a party in honor of your love for one another, should be about what both of you want.
it had already been months since your engagement and the wedding was rolling around quicker than expected. within days, you became stressed and overwhelmed. there were still so many decisions to make, so many people to call, so many things that still needed to be made perfect. these past few weeks have been incredibly hectic, and to no surprise, you felt isolated and alone. perhaps it was just typical bridal anxiety, or maybe it was the fact that your fiancé wanted nothing to do with helping prepare for your big day.
one late night, around 12 am, you sat on the floor of your shared living room. you had came home late from a night shift at work, waiting up for kate to come home from a night out with the team. with the wedding being so close you decided to spend the extra time tying loose ends and checking things off your to do list. you always waited for kate when she was out late, it was near impossible to sleep without her, so you didn’t mind.
there were folders and binders spread on the coffee table in front of you. little scraps of color samples and inspiration pictures took up every square inch, various phone numbers and addresses also scattered every which way. to any outsider, it’d seem like chaos, but you enjoyed the sweet moments of wedding planning.
not long after you organized the floral section of your wedding binder, you heard the lock of the front door click open. it was followed by the creak of the hinges and heavy footsteps. you looked over from your spot on the ground, seeing kate drop her bag at the door and kick her shoes off. she was tired, you could tell, but still buzzing from hanging out with her teammates.
“hey, baby! you’re home!” you smiled as she approached you. she leant down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before setting down on the couch that you sat against.
“hey,” she was slightly out of breath. she was leaning over your shoulder now, eyeing the mess on the table “wedding stuff? this late?”
“yeah, i wanted to keep myself busy while i waited for you”
“gotcha” with a monotone response, she was already dismissing you and pulling out her phone. she didn’t ask about what you were arranging or what folder you were working on, but instead she was checking instagram?
it made your blood boil slightly, the way that she was completely clueless to anything wedding related.
“want to help me?” you asked, looking back at her “if you’re gonna be up for a little longer, i’d like the help”
“you know me, babe. i’m really not good with that, you’ve got the eye for all of it” she didn’t even bother to make eye contact with you.
“really?” you choked back a scoff, torn between wanting to be mad and confront her or letting the matter roll over.
“what do you mean ‘really’?” now she was paying attention, typical.
“don’t worry about it, let’s just go to to bed” you pushed yourself off the floor, putting on your slippers and heading for the stairs. before you could move, however, kate had grabbed your wrist gently to keep you in place.
“well i am worried,” her face contorted to any angry frown “why are you mad all of the sudden?”
“because kate, you’re pissing me off”
“what the hell did i do?”
you wanted to scream, the emotion starting to build up inside of you. for months you had been annoyed with how she left all the wedding stuff for you to do. how she didn’t even want to be involved in this made you feel like you weren’t doing this wedding to proclaim your love, that you were really just doing it for yourself.
it wasn’t your intention to pick this fight tonight, but oh god did you just want to get it all off your chest.
“i’m pissed because you don’t even want to help with this wedding, kate! you can’t even sit down with me for 5 minutes and help me organize a fucking folder”
“that’s not true i-”
“no it is!” you didn’t even want to hear the bullshit that was bout to spew from her mouth. she remained on the couch, jaw clenched in anger as you cut her off “every time i ask you to do something, you blow me off and leave me to do it by myself! you have no interest in doing any of it with me”
“babe, i’m just not good at that stuff. i thought you wanted to plan this?” she was chewing at the inside of her cheeks now, you could tell she was trying to avoid this conversation.
“with you! i want to plan this with you! but for some reason you want no part in it! i have asked time and time again for a little help in hopes that you’d become interested in it. because in all honesty, kate, i don’t even care about the wedding being perfect. i just want to do it with you! i want you to care and to go to run wedding errands with me, i want you to want to do it with me, but you don’t even give a shit!”
her face started to turn red with annoyance, eyes pressed shut. her large hands covered her face as the ran down her cheeks. she was practically huffing as she sat there listening to you completely hound her for her disinterest.
“you haven’t even asked me about what flowers i decided to go with or shown any fucking interest in my god damn dress. my dress, kate, the part that i’m most excited for. you don’t even care about that and it hurts. and you dont ev-”
“jesus, i don’t care about the fucking wedding, YN!”
she could have just punched you right in the face, it probably would have hurt less than hearing her say that. your heart dropped, noticing how she was seething in rage. jaw still clenched, hands tugging at the roots of her hair, trying to calm herself down.
your eyes welled with tears, body frozen as you tried to process what just happened. she she really not care at all? it didn’t take long for the tears to start spilling, running down your cheeks in heavy cascades. a sob struck your body, you tired to bite your lip to hold it back but it was no use.
“great,” you muttered. she finally looked up at, body softening when she realized what she said “glad i know how you feel”
“baby…” she stood up abruptly, trying to come over to you.
“save it, it’s clear that you don’t care about the wedding” more sobs took over you, it killed kate to see you like this. she was kicking herself internally for even thinking that. why did she say that?
“if it’s really that big of a deal” you stepped back when kate tried to reach for you hand to apologize “then let’s just call the whole thing off”
“YN, no” she begged, tears of her own building up “baby come on, i didn’t mean it, don’t say that”
“why not? i mean you don’t have any interest in it. like at all, not even enough to spend time with me to do it. so let’s just call it”
“i don’t want to call it off” her lips contorted to a frown “i wouldn’t have proposed if i didn’t want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. honey please, i don’t want to call it off”
“you’re not acting like it” is all you could say, you were truly speechless at this point. “why scream at me that you ‘don’t care about the wedding’ when i’m trying to express my feelings to you if you don’t want to call it off”
“because i’m a fucking idiot” her voice wobbled as she began to cry. the pattern of her tears mimicking yours “i don’t know why i said that, it’s not true even in the slightest. i’ve just been so stressed with everything recently and stuff with the wedding has just been so overwhelming, but at the end of the day i just want to marry you, baby. that’s no excuse, i’ll admit that i haven’t been a very good fiancé”
“no you haven’t” you crossed your arms, wiping away some of your tears “i know things are stressful…and i get that, but you don’t even seem interested. like you don’t want to do this with me”
“i do,” another wave of sadness washes over her “i think i’m just scared. things are happening so quick and change makes me nervous…our life is so perfect and i’m worried that i’m gonna fuck it up somehow. whether it’s planning the wedding or being a shitty wife, i feel like im going to fail”
“kate…” you swallowed deeply. it sent another pang to your heart knowing that this is how she felt all along “is that really how you feel? like you’re going to fail?”
she nodded, sniffling as she looked down at her feet in embarrassment. you ran over to her in an instant to pull her into your arms. she collapsed into your body, arms wrapping around your waist, chin sitting atop your shoulder as she cried to you. your hands rubbed her back smoothly, letting her get all of it out.
“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry that i’ve been so shitty” you could feel your shirt dampen with teardrops “you don’t deserve any of this. i can’t believe i said i don’t care, i never meant it, i swear”
“hey hey hey,” your hand now finding the back of her head, running your fingers through her hair “it’s going to be ok, i get it, we can work past that. but the last thing i want is for you to feel like you’re going to be a shitty wife. baby, i don’t think you could be a bad wife even if you tried”
“you’re just saying that”
“i’m not! i mean it! you’re the love of my life and i think you’re perfect inside and out. i wouldn’t have said yes if i didn’t accept every part of you. we’ll have ups and downs like everyone does, but that doesn’t mean i don’t still love you and it certainly doesn’t make you a shitty wife”
she released you from the hug when you took ahold of her shoulders. you ran your palms up and down her biceps before moving to her face, fingers grazing her cheekbones.
“it’s going to be ok, alright?” you cracked a smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead as you got up on your tip toes.
“i’m sorry, i love you so much” she pulled you in for a real kiss, this time, lips coming into contact with yours.
“i love you too”
after that night, kate made it her mission to change. she started helping out more, like you had asked, but she was also doing things on her own. kate picked out her suit, called the wedding photographer, and a handful of other things on your list. it was clear to you now that she just needed reassurance. it was going to take sometime to recover from what she had said to you, but you knew none of it was true and it was something you could work past.
you just wanted to marry your girl.
and marry her, you did.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 3 days
Note
I don’t see any rules for what you do and don’t write but I’m thinking ghostface/stalker Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott or Tom Riddle
Yesssss, I love Scream! Let me know if you guys want more of this with the other boys or more of Mattheo!
My Princess
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Stalking, killing, Ghostface, mention of assault
Don't read if this stuff bothers you!
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There’s been reportings of a murderer in your area. One who donned a mask. ‘Ghostface’ is what they started calling him.
It was scary, trying to live with a serial killer nearby, who could be anyone since no one saw their face.
The killings seemed random at first. No pattern, no specific target demographic, no connections to each other.
Then, unfortunately or fortunately for you, he killed your cheating ex. And your old bully. And that one teacher who seemed like he had it out for you.
It got scarier for you. Seeing so many people who had connections to you being killed.
Only, it got worse when, the day after the murders, little boxes appeared at your door with an item from the victims and flowers. Each time, you called the cops, but they would make a report and leave, saying they can’t really do anything else.
It was frustrating and terrifying. You invested in a doorbell camera, hoping to catch whoever it was leaving these on your doorstep. But they didn’t show up again. Not at your door, at least.
Next was a box on your bed in your room, this one just filled with flowers and jewelry. As soon as you saw it, you got chills and a gut-wrenching feeling knowing they were in your room.
You called the cops again, but since there was no footage or DNA left behind, all they could do was make another report.
They started leaving notes now. Telling you how pretty you are, how sweet you are, how much he adores you and is obsessed with you. Again, cops won’t do anything, no DNA or footage.
You set a camera up in your room to catch them. You caught them when you were at work, but they were in a Ghostface mask and waved at your camera. They left a note on your bed and left. That was all they did that you caught on camera. You stopped sleeping at your place, waiting for the lease to end in a few months. Your friends let you crash at their place until the notes and gifts started showing up there. You had to go back to your place since no one wanted to let you in theirs with fear they’d show up.
They promised to never hurt you, they were protecting you, they were keeping you safe from everyone who ever hurt you or plans to hurt you.
You heard about a co-worker that was killed one day at work, and the next day, you see papers of screenshots printed out from the co-worker talking about what he wanted to do to you, how he was planning on asking you out to a bar and assaulting you. That made you feel sick. But now you were starting to see this stalker was telling the truth. Maybe they were protecting you.
You still kept the cameras up and bought some weapons for your place, even a handgun.
“You don’t need all this protection, princess. I’ll always protect you.” That was on a note left on your bed, but they left all your weapons alone.
You finally had enough of the cops not doing anything, of no one helping you, of not feeling safe anymore. Whoever this was wasn’t hurting you, just being creepy. You wrote notes back to them, asking who they were and why they kept stalking you.
“Stalking? No, I’m protecting you.” They would write back. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm you. You’re precious to me. I love you.”
It really didn’t help the creepiness, but at least you were finally talking to them. You were hoping to gain their trust and meet them, hopefully kill them.
“You wanna meet me, princess? It’s tempting. But I wouldn’t want you to do something irrational.” They wrote back. “Do you trust me?”
You wanted to say ‘no’ but you couldn’t. Not if you wanted to meet them.
So you said ‘yes’ and the notes stopped. You thought you scared them away maybe. Maybe they thought it was too much to meet you.
Until a few days later, you had just gotten back from work. It was a Friday night and you sat at your counter in the kitchen, drinking wine, trying to calm your nerves from everything. You were always on edge nowadays and needed something to help with it. You were tipsy at this point, just eating and drinking as you let yourself relax.
Then you saw a figure emerge from the hallway to stand on the other side of the counter from you, wearing all black and the Ghostface mask.
You panicked and tried running, but your stalker was faster. They grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to them, grabbing your other wrist as well to keep you from running.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, princess.” A male voice said behind the mask. “You wanted to meet. I’m here.”
You were still panicking, but stopped fighting him. You stared at the mask. Fear took over your body again when you remembered he didn’t just stalk you, but also killed people and you kicked him and took off running again when he let go, running towards your room since that was closest. He ran after you, blocking the door before you could close it. 
“Please, I don’t want any of this. I-” You broke into sobs as you backed away.
“No, no , no, princess. I won’t hurt you. I promise. You’re the most important thing in my life.” He said, closing the door behind him as he spoke softly.
“Why do you do this?” You asked with a shaky voice.
“To protect you. No one will ever hurt you, baby.” He was walking closer and you backed up until you hit the wall.
“Who are you?” You asked, still crying from fear.
He took off his mask to reveal someone you worked with. The co-worker your dead co-worker was messaging about you with.
“Mattheo?” You said with a confused look.
“I just wanted to protect you. To keep you safe from all the evil in the world. You don’t deserve any of that.” He was still speaking softly as he stepped in front of you.
“You killed people.” You whispered.
“People who hurt you. I couldn’t let them live after hurting you.” He said, touching your arm softly and you flinched.
“They didn’t deserve that.”
“They did. You’re perfect. No one should ever hurt you or make you feel bad again.” He moved his other hand to your hair. “I’ve been dreaming about touching you for so long.” His voice was quiet. As much as you feared him, his touch was reverent, like he was savoring every touch of your skin.
“Why did you break into my house?” You asked quietly, meeting his eyes.
“You put the camera up. I wasn’t ready to be caught just yet.” He said with a small smile, trailing his hand up and down your arm, his other hand running through your hair gently.
“We work together. Why didn’t you just talk to me if you felt this way?”
“I was too nervous. You’re perfect. You’re so pretty and funny and sweet and I couldn’t stand the thought of you rejecting me.” His hand on your arm moved up to cup your cheek. “Would you reject me now?”
You shook your head. “No. I wouldn’t.” You said, but you were still terrified.
He smiled. “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, hoping if you played along, you could get away at some point.
He leaned in and kissed you gently, timidly. He was nervous. You kissed back, trying to think of a way out of this. It was hard to think when he was kissing you so sweetly.
He broke the kiss and looked at your face. “Your lips are softer than I ever imagined.” He smiled again, brushing his thumb along your cheek. “You’re mine now, yeah?”
“Yes.” You nodded.
“My princess. All mine now.” He said before kissing you again.
Now that you were in his hands, he wasn’t letting you go.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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xazse · 2 days
Note
Hello! I'm a new reader and I fr love your writing, especially the scara x bunny girl!! Please need more🥺
Maybe when bunny girl got in heat while scaramouche is on a business trip. She kept touching herself but she can't cum. The best she can do probably is hump the stuffed toy scara got for her so she calls scara. However, scara kept on ranting about his day, making bunny needier so she continues her shenanigans while scara is talking. He catches her eventually and punishes her. You can be creative with it.
(I can't really depict scenarios I'm so sorry shshshshshh)
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SCARAMOUCHE X BUNNYGIRL!READER
Notes: HI IM SORRY THIS IS SHORT I DIDNT WANT YOU TO THINK I WAS LIKE IGNORING YOU ITS JUST BEEN IVE BEEN IN A WRITING BLOCK SORTA 😭 I’m sorry I didn’t exactly follow the prompt I just wanted to get this out to you, again I’m extremely sorry for the lateness.
I’m so happy you love my writing and our cute bunny girl reader and scars
Pairings: Scaramouche x BunnyGirl!Reader
Tags: Humping, Scara being mean and bossy, just really filthy, hybrid!reader, Fem!Reader, NOT PROOFREAD
It’s been pure torture for you, your body feels like it’s constantly on fire and like you’re carrying a heavy weight as you go from room to room smelling various things Scara owns whilst he’s on his trip. He left you because the doctor assured that your heat wouldn’t come for at least another two weeks, he couldn’t have been more wrong.
The only things keeping you comforted and relieving your body is the stuffed animals that you insist stay on the bed when you and Scara are sleeping, he despises the things but keep them as to not upset you. So they things are filled with his scent, his lavender hair wash and woody smell lingers. You can’t help but inhale the scent in the plushies every so often.
You’ve already called him and told him about how it came earlier and the sneer that came upon his face did nothing but make you twitch, you know he’s enjoying how you’ve been suffering, he is ultimately getting off on the fact that you can’t have his cock to fill you up, it’s so frustrating but he looks so good while scolding you on how you did this on purpose, even though you literally can’t control when your heat decides to come.
One night you’re tossing and turning, when your heat finally hits you full on, moans slip from your lips as your clit throbs with need, you get a whiff of Scara again in the stuffed animal you’re currently whining into, and instantly your horny mind shifts to dirty thoughts, thoughts of his long cock battering your sensitive walls whilst he groans in your ear.
A few moments later you’re dragging your whole cunt against the poor stuffed animal, you feel bad but your hips won’t allow you to stop, won’t let you stop feeling that slight drum in your little clit. You reach your fingers down to add a little more stimulation to find your completely soaked. By now you should’ve cum, but you’re left whining into the pillows as you keep trying to hump away. His smell isn’t nearly enough your heady head deems.
You successfully managed to grab the phone and call Scara, already begging him to accept the face-call. He does and props his phone up so you can see him completely in his element, buried in paperwork with a scowl on his face, so pretty. He’s already ranting about how he hates this place and all the people in it, angry about the annoying escorts they keep sending to his room that he’s meant to fuck, he’s already said he wants nothing to do with them because they think he’ll eventually change his mind.
His eyes glide to the camera, seeing you flushed and naked? He can only see your face and shoulders.
“Are you clothed woman?” He says while closely inspecting the camera again.
Did he completely forget about the fact that you’re literally in heat?
He laughs a little and gets up, the lights in whatever room he’s in goes dark and you’re graced by his appearance again.
“What are you up to bunny?” He questions, you respond with a slight mumble under your breath but the mumble comes out too breathy. The only thing lighting up his face is the lamp by his side, it gives his skin a pretty golden gleam and that makes your cunt twitch.
“I’d forgotten about your little issue, m’sorry, do you want my help? Poor thing.” He’s doing that fake voice where it’s filled with concern but once again hes getting off on your suffering but that spurs you on too.
You hear some slight shuffling before the camera is moved downwards, where you can still see his face until his thick cock is seen, he’s fully hard: even from your conversation earlier he had been thinking and waiting for you to call him. He starts slow when he strokes himself, precise hands slide up and down while he maintains eye contact with you. You feel weird, a good weird.
“Nu, uh, bunny, don’t you dare, keep doing what you were doing before” he manages to get out inbetween stuttered breathing. He knows you were about to touch yourself using your fingers, but no he wants you to keep humping your stuffed animal.
“Won’t work, Kuni” you whine out, god he squeezes his tip, he loves when you get like this but he won’t tolerate you disobeying. “Do as I say” he gives no room for arguments with his sharp tone. Your ears deflate but you do as you’re told and start gliding your messy cunt back and forth. Scara seems pleased to see you further ruin yourself: you can see him start stroking himself faster, saying your name over and over through clenched teeth, calling you a good bunny for listening so well to him.
He tells you to show the mess you’ve made, you don’t protest as you shift to sit up and spread your legs in front of the camera, you really are dripping. He fantasizes about just how good you’ll feel wrapped around him, how he’s going to make you cum so many times on his fingers then you’ll be able to have his cock. Your fingers trail down, he’s about to scold you but you use your fingertips to pry your pussy so he can really get a full view.
Loud moans slip from his lips as his balls tighten hard, and he’s cumming with thick spurts. You don’t hear a few words but you do make out how he’ll be back shortly.
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bucknastysbabe · 2 days
Note
hello hello lovely
saw that your requests were still open, and I’m craving Aegon. need your precious writing to revamp my love for him 💓
could I request chubby!Aegon where the reader becomes jealous and he makes it up to her? don’t have anything specific in mind just along those lines. I need that big boy to grovel 🫠
thank you, appreciate you 💋
- @lovelykhaleesiii xo
Anything for you my helina🥰🥰loved writing this
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Rating: Explicit
Tags: TW: mention of overeating, mentioned weight gain, chubby!aegon, au!no war, northern reader, pwp, Aegon being aegon, breeding kink, pnv!sex, certified boob man aeg ii, lactation kink mentioned, creampie
Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @lovelykhaleesiii @dr-aegon @starogeorgina @jamespotterismydaddy @elaratyrell @zaldritzosrose @sugarpoppss2 @saintaegon @fairysluna @targaryen-madness
Aegon could put on a farce with the best of the mummers. He was all smiles and drunken japes at dinner. Talking, eating, talking, eating, and his favorite— drinking. Your husband’s abilities appeared to grow along with his new titles. He was a king now and certainly filled the part.
You sat next to him with a pinched face, carefully sipping your wine. Aemond looked on with barely concealed disgust, sharp features twitching. He raised a brow at you, jerking his sharp chin toward your husband. Aemond’s need for control might be worse than your own. The king was the king, there was not much you could do outside the bedroom. Aegon was chatting with Lord Jason Lannister. You despised the Westerman and what he represented, the Northron blood in you appalled at the South’s materialism.
Jason snorted, “Well, you’ve heard of the petulant princess down in Dorne hm? Fashions herself the new Nymeria. Heard she’s quite beautiful.”
Aegon replied around a gulp of wine, “Is it them or the Iron Islanders that take on all those wives? She can join my harem. I do know the Dornish are easy, much easier than mine own wife.” He leaned forward on thick arms to jest, “Pray tell, what’s this Martell’s name? Mayhaps I’ll send a letter.”
The pair guffawed. You quietly put your cup down and excused yourself. Aegon called after you between his giggles, “My love! Come on! Take a damn joke, yeah?”
You seethed, blood icy at his embarrassing behavior. He knew better than to insult you, his queen, the one he came crying to when times got hard. Your kingsguard filtered in behind you, scrambling to catch up. Ser Darklyn’s questions were ignored.
Safe in your chambers, you pulled down the kady bar. Rage unfurled beneath your skin— you would not show it to him. You never did unless it was a slap to his full cheeks. A tear fell, the droplet smacked away like a pest. You’d go to sleep, Aegon could wait until you’d calmed.
“Fucker. Southron cock-gargler.”
As expected, his familiar presence came to crawling. Well, flopping onto your bed with his weight, the ropes creaking as he cursed lowly. Aegon cursed, “Fuckin’ damn- beds!” You jerked up your legs, sitting upright to light a candle, blinking the little sleep out of your eyes.
The blonde frowned at the dim light, chubby cheeks pooching at the movement. He wore a simple linen shirt and breeches, white hair all mussed. You frowned at your thoughts turning soft, as your lord husband looked handsome in the gentle lighting.
Aegon murmured, thick fingers circling your ankle, “Are you upset? I was merely joking.”
“No, go on, take a mistress from every great house if you so desire, my king.”
His violet eyes rolled at your acrid reply, the man coming closer to your position. He sighed, “I don’t plan on it, why would I do that?” Narrowing your eyes, you threw a pillow at his head to escape further across the bed. Aegon grunted as he was pelted, the blonde casted a bewildered look your way, brows pinched.
“I don’t want to hear it, that was shameful to speak as if I were not there, go away Aegon,” you hissed.
He groaned loudly, hand running through his wild waves. The king asked, face dead serious “Do I need to beg? Hm? My frozen queen of the north is the only one I’m fucking. Sweetling wants to see me grovel?”
Your stomach fluttered at the thought, eyes flicking to his earnest expression across the bed. You sniffed quietly, holding out a hand, “Yes. I want you to beg for me. Then maybe I’ll forget the slight. You talk like such a whore at the table yet you forget who rules your cock.”
He moaned, eyes rolling at the words before taking your hand and lowering himself with a grunt. Aegon looked up through his lashes, plump lips pink and perfect. He murmured, “Can’t believe you. Lady wants me to grovel. All I do is think about my wife day and night.”
You stared him down, pleased so far.
“I’m not seeing anyone, nor do I care to. I’m not some young little slip anymore. Too busy eating your cunt than diving into every hole up the street of silk, yeah? Maybe that’s why I can’t close my belt?”
You moaned, “I didn’t make you, ah, you do that Aegon.”
“Mhm, that’s why you slide me extra cake. Now, what was I saying,” he was kissing an ankle now, carefully holding your leg, “Why would I go get some bratty Dornish nymphet, or any other lady for that matter? I’ve fucked a babe into you twice now. It’s a bit intoxicating watching you ripen up with my seed.”
You whined at that, resolved to break soon. Being pregnant with the children was some of your fondest moments. Some most erotic from your insatiable husband. His increased weight? Likely came from him drinking your tits up every night before each babe.
Aegon hummed, eyes blown with lust, lips at your knee. The king rasped, “I’d like to fuck more into you tonight if you’ll forgive me, I only love my queen. Always and truly ever you, sweeting. Mayhaps twins? Your teats will be quite ripe for me then.”
You gasped and pulled his shoulders, Aegon already knew the intention as he hiked up your shift and yanked it off. In a flurry of movement, you pulled at the strings on his breeches while he exposed his thickened body. He was stout, not necessarily a true softling. It made the king more intimidating, with wide hips and a sturdy midsection. You loved it.
“Uh-huh, you’re gonna fuck twins into me? That’s a way to make up for being an absolute t-twat.”
You tried to hiss but there was no real heat, especially with his soft lips against your neck, gluttonous hands on your tits. Aegon pressed your naked form into the bed, his flushed cock snug against your thigh. Delicate white hair tickled at your neck as you squirmed. The king’s bulk had you utterly pinned, stocky thighs keeping your legs open.
He nipped at thin skin, laughing, “Where’s all the cold anger hm? Needed to be coddled and warmed up? You’re no better than me, love.”
Another shiver ran up your spine, goosebumps erupting atop your skin. You hooked a leg around his cushy waist and gritted, “Kiss me dammit. You were the ass here.” He laughed again, lips searching your own, the familiar plush a balm to your stung pride.
You opened up for him, lips lazily caressing against Aegon’s more insistent kisses, tongue bullying its way in. He gripped at your waist, rutting a few times against your cunt. The bulbous tip catching your clit made you whine and cling to his fleshy sides.
The Targaryen breathed, “Never takes you long to get all nice and slick for me huh? Turn your nose up but your pussy gets wet. Every. Damn. Time.” He punctuated his words with jerks of his hips and grinned as you cursed his name, arching into his soft belly.
You rolled back against him, demanding, “Enough talk, you’re here to make it up. Ah, careful,” you chastised as he pulled one of your tits up to bite at your budded nipple, “Fuck me dammit! Breed me up then!”
Aegon grinned sharply, cooing, “Why didn’t you just say so, dearest? I’ll make sure you take it all.”
He shoved a pillow under your flared hips, pressing gentler kisses on any available skin. Aegon huffed as he jerked his hand under a heavy stomach to grab his cock, guiding it into your soaked cunt. Your knees tightened up around him, exhaling a shaky moan.
He never failed to fill you up perfectly, with a girthy cock that he well knew how to use. Aegon groaned, lashes fluttering as he bottomed out, “Mmm, fuck, always so godsdamn soaked for your king.” One of his big hands clapped down on your ass— you threw your head back as he began to fuck you in earnest.
Aegon was an…excitable lover. He was mouthy and rough, a true passion of his to empty his balls into cunt. Thankfully, it was yours and yours only for the past years. You panted against his soft jaw, nipping at the flesh as he stretched your walls out, tip dragging against the tender ridges and spongey spots.
He angled you further, allowing his lower tummy to rub and stifle your bundle of nerves. You cried out his name, heaving as Aegon paid no heed, single-minded determination across his face. Shivers wracked your spine, shooting down your spread legs.
“Mhm, that’s my baby, shaking all over, needed my cock to settle you down? You say I’m needy. Yet your body screams for more.”
“F-fuck Aegon, quit it, oh gods!”
He took your lips again, sweat building up between you two as passions grew frantic. You keened. “Breed me, love, want more babes, make me yours again and again- hnn- mm!” Blood suffused your face, irritably hot as you registered the wanton pleas.
Aegon doubled down, hands pressing your thighs up, bending your stimulated frame. His belly still sat heavily on your clit, sparks of pleasure muddling any sort of coherence. Aegon was panting now, hair damp with exertion. He growled, “Yeah, yeah, gonna keep you full mama, let the kingdom see how well my queen takes my seed. Gods, gods, fucking hell, gonna fill you up. Plug ya’ so you don’t leak.”
You whimpered as your belly was awash with intense sensation, bundling nerves ready to fire. Aegon’s rambling about you being his perfect queen and good mama throttled you to the precipice, pussy clamping down on his cock. You wanted it all, your cunt was milking him for it. Seeking that hot feeling of his spend coating your sore insides.
“Fucking others!,” came your howl— your delirious thoughts catapulting you into gushing all over Aegon with a squeal. The king stuttered and cursed, a broken moan leaving swollen lips. He surged forward, dragging his tip against your cervix, face cutely scrunching as he emptied, shaking and moaning your name.
His spend was molten hot and overfilling your cunt, Aegon selfishly feeling around the side of the bed, crushing your overwhelmed body. He whined, “Fuuh-uck, love, feel too good, hold on.” You furrowed your brows before surprise hit your features.
That motherfucker was going to plug you up.
His lidded eyes danced as he drawled, “I wanted twins, mama.”
You squirmed and mewled when his cock left and a cold wedge replaced it. He shushed and pet you, kissing you tenderly as you grew used to the foreign object. You could feel his seed stuffed inside— trying not to dwell on it so hard. Aegon flopped onto his back, pulling your body snugly against his soft, warm one. You murmured, “That was some hell of an apology. Bastard.”
He sleepily murmured, “M’sorry dove, was mean. I’ll do better,” he squeezed you tight and planted a kiss on the crown of your head, “Only for my queen. Mmh, pray to your old gods— papa wants twins.”
You snorted, biting back laughter at his outright silly statement.
“Mhm Papa, prayers coming up. Sot.”
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saturnville · 3 days
Text
bite, l. hamilton
pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x black best friend oc (anvika dawson) content: in which two friends cross a line people have been waiting for them to cross. warning: 18+ content song: bite by njzoma an: y'all know I don't write smut fr, so ntm. but I hope y'all enjoy it. wc: 2,498 tags: the girlies who were hyping me up to post this @boujiestpoet @mauvecherie-writes @saintslewis @greedyjudge2 @vile-harlot @emjayewrites
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“Just because we’re attracted to one another doesn’t mean we need to sleep together. I’m off that. Plus, we’re friends.”
Anvika prided herself on being a woman of self-control and discipline. Though it did not come easy, years of abstinence grew dreary and at times, very lonely, her hard work was not something she was willing to risk. Her decision to step into abstinence wasn’t one she took lightly, nor was it one that she planned, but once Anvika began the journey of healing from a heartbreak, intimacy with another man wasn’t the priority. Though that had been over four years ago and she was well over the situation, she could admit that while it was difficult to maintain her self-control, not having to worry about anyone’s snot-nosed son brought more peace than she could ever imagine. 
“Even more of a reason to let it happen. Everything happens better when you have a solid foundation first. Everybody thinks you two are together anyways. He truly cares for you, in more ways than one.” 
Anvika hummed and rolled her eyes as she brought the slender champagne fluke to her full lips. The liquid went smooth down her throat. She shrugged. “Then let them think that. Lewis is a good man, a good and attractive man, but…”
Her friend, Onyx, sighed and downed her drink with a wave of her hand. “I don’t know how you do it! I would’ve lost my mind by now. I commend you.” Onyx bowed playfully which pulled a light laugh from Anvika. Though she was joking, she couldn’t help but sense the truth behind her words. 
Though swearing off men and intimacy had become a more common practice among women, many people found it taboo and unrealistic. She soon began to ponder--what if she’d never find anyone that could give her what she wanted because of how she chose to navigate her dating life? She shook it off internally. That would be a problem, but none that would be hers. 
Before she got the chance to respond, her phone rang against the glass table that held their expensive lunch on it’s back. LH flashed across the screen. She smiled softly which caught the attention of Onyx, who gave a teasing smirk. For someone who was insistant on keeping a strong boundary between herself and her closest friend, she surely smiled like a fool whenever he called. 
“I told you I have a lunch date with Onyx today,” she reminded the racer lowly, using her index finger to draw doodles in the condensation her water glass sweat off on the table. “Everything alright?” 
“Everything’s fine, angel,” he spoke smoothly. “Just wanted to make sure you were still wanting to join me for the event on Friday.” Anvika hummed and nodded as though he could see her. He was attending a gala in London and of course, offered his plus-one to Anvika, as he had done since their friendship had begun years prior. What was his, was hers, including access to rooms and events that would grant her opportunities to further her career as a branding and marketing consultant. 
“Yes,” she replied excitedly. “I still haven’t found a dress. What color are you wearing?”
There was shuffling in the background before he spoke again. “Blue. Don’t worry about it,  I’ll handle it.” Her heart fluttered. “Enjoy your lunch. Tell Onyx I said hello and call me later, alright?” 
Anvika’s teeth trapped her bottom lip. “Alright. Talk soon.” 
“Bye, love.” 
Anvika turned her phone on its face and looked up, catching Onyx’s playful eyes. Her thick eyebrow touched her forehead. “Friends, right?” Anvika gave her a look. Onyx raised her hands in defense, “My bad, my bad.” 
-
Lewis Hamilton was a gentleman. Sure, this was universal knowledge, but something about him being gentlemanly with her made her heart flutter and her stomach clench with desire. And it almost made her question Onyx’s point, “he truly cares for you; in more ways than one.” It’d typically be something she’d deny, but as she stood in front of the mirror with her hair done by a hairstylist he arranged to come, her nails done by a nail technician he’d flown out, and a dress he arranged to be custom-made to suit her body, how could she deny it any longer? 
“Don’t think too deeply into it,” she scolded herself, slipping out of her robe. She walked toward her dress, pulled it off the hanger, and carefully slipped into it. “You’re friends. Close friends who care for one another. That’s it, that’s all.” 
They met at the paddock six years prior. She was invited to her first Formula One race through her consultant agency, which took her team on an all-expense paid trip for their hard work. She wasn’t aware of Formula One, just of familiar names. Then, at the end of the match, she had the chance to put a face to the infamous name of Lewis Hamilton. 
“You raced well,” Anvika noted, taking in the slightly disheveled appearance of the raceman. “I’ve never been to a Formula One race; good job on giving me a reason to come back one day.” 
The man’s eyebrow raised in interest. He crossed his arms over his chest, his muscular build on display. “Is that so?”
Anvika nodded. 
“We can make that happen whenever you want.” 
It was Anvika’s turn to raise an eyebrow. A smirk played on her lips. “Is that so? Tryna be my friend, Lewis?” 
He shrugged his shoulders. Friends wasn’t too bad. Anything to get to know her. “Any man would be a fool to refuse that opportunity, Anvika.”
That marked the beginning of an inseparable union.
Anvika continued to mumble and grumble, doing whatever she could to keep her mind eased. Her self-conversations were halted by a knock on her door. Lewis. “Coming!” Holding her dress to her chest. She turned the doorknob, and the familiar scent of his cologne filled her nose. “Are you…oh. Oh.”
Closing the door behind him, Lewis’ eyes were trained on her, the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on. The dress, complementary to his suit, was perfectly designed and tailored to her. She was a fan of long-sleeved dresses, so that’s what she got. It was constructed with a heavy, luxurious velvet material and it hugged every riff, edge, and curve on her body. The neckline showed the swell of her breasts and her beautiful collarbone. The mermaid-like tail further accentuated her shape. 
Her hair was parted to the side and curled to perfection. The makeup complimented her features--thick eyebrows, full lips, and a round nose. And her scent, goodness, it suffocated him. The jasmine and almond notes filled his nostrils and he wanted to nuzzle his face in her neck and inhale like she was the air he needed to breathe. 
“You look beautiful,” Lewis managed to speak. His voice was so low that she almost didn’t hear his compliment. With a bashful smile, she thanked him and led him to her room where she wandered toward the bathroom, which had a series of jewels across the counter. “Help me pick a necklace?” 
Anvika turned to face the jewelry and fought hard to ignore the heat that radiated from Lewis’ body as he moved to stand behind her. From over her shoulder, his eyes followed the line of jewels the stylists brought. His eyes landed on a silver necklace; a thin chain with a multi-carat teardrop diamond. “This one.” 
Lewis took the necklace in his hands and placed it around her neck. Anvika lifted her hair to grant him easy access and shivered as his cool fingertips brushed against her skin. She inhaled deeply. “Stunning.” His breath was warm against her neck. They locked eyes in the mirror ahead of them. The tension was thick. Suffocating. His brown eyes, usually so full of love and warmth, were filled with something she couldn’t quite identify, but it made her body heat like wildfire. 
“I’m ready,” she announced, careful not to let her voice waver. She turned, purposefully ignoring the groan he released when she brushed against him. Her lips quivered as she tried to give a steady smile. What the hell was happening between them? Anvika placed her hands on his chest and soothed the non-existent wrinkles on his suit jacket. He was so handsome. “You look great, darling.” 
“Thank you…” his words came out as a whisper. He was too distracted by her. Six years of friendship and what he felt from the time he met her at the paddock all those years ago had reached a breaking point. He’d boiled over. 
Anvika tried to smile as she pressed a kiss against his cheek, but with how he reacted, her lips landed at the corner of his lips. She took a step back. “Let’s get ready to go, yeah?” 
Lewis swallowed thickly. He held his arm out for her, which she grabbed instinctively, and together, they were out the door with a million and one thoughts swimming between them. 
-
“And that beauty you’ve brought?” an older man questioned Lewis, who had his eyes on Anvika as she danced through the siloes of people in the room. The gala was nothing short of a popularity function, a random event on a random weekend for the host to flaunt their money and connections, Truthfully, his desire to attend dwindled once he saw her in that dress. She was the only thing on his mind. 
“Anvika Dawson,” Lewis said, nodding in her direction. “One of the best branding and marketing consultants in the industry. She’s amazing at everything she does. You’ve got a business, don’t you?” And that’s why he was a good friend, Anvika noted as she began to walk over, hearing him advocate for her in front of the man. 
“You flatter me,” she said with a smile as she took a position under Lewis’ arm, which slid around her waist. “Anvika Dawson, nice to meet you.” 
The older man, who had went by the nam Eli, shook her hand firmly and nodded in interest. “Well, pardon me, but the two of you would make a wonderful couple.” The young adult chuckled lightly; the comment was nothing new to them, but it seemed to bring them both discomfort given the fact that they had a very intimate moment just an hour before their arrival. Before Lewis could speak up, Anvika thanked the man sweetly then they were whisked in another direction. 
They were joined together at the hip for the remainder of the evening. And, on the rare occasion that they were apart, they stole glances from across the room like teenagers in a romantic sitcom. Soon, the event wrapped up and they were in the backseat of the car, sitting in a thick silence. 
Anvika sat at the right of the car, her knees turned inward and her legs crossed. With every bump in the road and swerve of the car, the tip of her heel brushed against Lewis’ leg. His breath hitched. She said nothing. 
The car came to an abrupt stop and the doors were opened for them. Before her foot could touch the ground, Lewis’ hand was awaiting. “Thank you,” Anvika said softly, and allowed him to guide her into the hotel. 
He still hadn’t said much. The walk to the elevator was quiet, yet, he hadn’t let go of her hand. What was he thinking about? If it was the sudden shift in their interactions, it didn’t go unnoticed by her either. 
The elevator doors peeled open and Lewis guided her in. He pressed the button, 10, that would send them to the floor their rooms were on. The elevator ride seemed slow as each ding indicated they’d entered another floor. 
Anvika cleared her throat and decided to speak up, “I enjoyed tonight. And again, you looked great. I love blue on you.” 
He couldn’t remember what happened between her compliment, her back against the elevator wall, and his lips on hers.  The only thing that forced him to key in was her hands pressing against his abdomen and his name falling from her lips. “Lewis…” What he’d heard time and time again in his dreams had finally become a reality. His stomach churned; could he get her to say it again? “What are you…” She cut herself off when she fell victim to the wonderful feeling of his lips against her jaw. 
“I just…” Lewis settled his face in her neck. “One night, Vi. Let me have one night with you…” Her heart pounded in her ears. What the hell was happening? 
“Lewis…” Her hand slipped and fell just above his belt. She extended her arm just slightly. “We can’t do this. I-I don’t want to mess up our friendship and you know I’m not going all the way with anyone--” 
Lewis hummed. His eyes sat low as he looked at her. She looked completely worn out as if he’d done to her what he truly wanted. Her forehead glistened with sweat, her lipstick was smeared, and her chest heaved. “Nothing will change for the worse, angel. And I don’t want to go there with you, just want to make you feel good…always have.” His left arm circled around her waist and his large hand palmed her backside. She whimpered. “Can I?” 
“Someone might see...” 
He ignored her. “Can I make you feel good?” His tone was stern as he repeated his question. Suddenly, the gala was out of her mind and the only thing that clouded her thoughts was him. Him and him only. Lewis Hamilton had infiltrated her mind and she finally stopped fighting it. 
The elevator dinged. “Yes…” 
-
“Should I…?” her hands reached for the necklace that shone beneath the dim lights of the hotel suite. Lewis shook his head and peeled his jacket off his shoulders, revealing a crisp white wife beater. He shed that too. Anvika’s breath hitched. “Keep it on. Lay back for me, angel.” 
Anvika looked like an angel surrounded by the comforter. Her undergarments were long discarded, save for her underwear which he kept in the pocket of his pants. The pure white of the sheets were a stark contrast to the richness of her complexion. Her hair was sprawled against the pillow with a few strands covering her face lazily. The look on her face was one of comfort, relief in one way or another. 
She welcomed Lewis’ body between her legs as he crawled on the bed and his lips against hers as he hovered above her. For the first time that night, Anvika’s hands didn’t tremble when she touched him. She welcomed the feeling of every ridge of muscle, every raised scar, and every mature tattoo. 
Their hands moved frantically over each other’s body, and it felt amazing. She hadn’t realized how touch deprived she was until she heard his chuckle in her ear. Her face warmed. She felt like a teenager. “It’s okay…” his lips ghosted against the shell of her ear. “Make all the noise you want.” 
Anvika didn’t respond--her mouth wouldn’t allow her to. As Lewis moved down her body, she sat on her elbows, watching and waiting. God, he was so handsome like this. His head was dipped between her thighs and his tattooed glistened under the dim lights. Slowly, he lips created an intentional trail from her belly down to the treasure just centimeters away from his mouth. 
Her fingers clawed at the bedsheets as the anticipation rose. She was becoming impatient. He was giving attention to every other place except where he wanted her. She huffed. “Lewis…” 
He hummed, clearly unbothered by her frustration. He glanced at her, “Yes?” She whimpered. “Talk to me.” He was amused, very amused. She was desperate for him. It was evident by the way her arousal seeped onto the bed. He gathered some on his fingers, using it as a lubricant as he finally began to touch her. 
Anvika gasped. His movements were slow and meticulated but they were enough to set her over the edge. He brought his lips to hers again, which she accepted sloppily. Her jaw fell slack as he continued to work her to her first release of the night. It came quickly, quicker than she would have liked. When his fingers hit that spot within her, her hips jerked and she squeaked his name. 
Lewis chuckled, “That’s it?” He prodded that spot again. “Right there?” Anvika nodded. He removed his fingers. She groaned in frustration, “Lewis, please!”
“Please what?” He brought his fingers to his lips and moaned at the taste of her on his tongue. If this was just the beginning, he couldn’t imagine how mad he’d go in the coming moments. “Tell me what you want.”
She clocked it. He wanted her to beg. Anvika wasn’t the begging type. She may have been far removed from having sex, but she always got her way, especially with Lewis. Her hands trailed down the muscular planes of his stomach. Her fingers hooked in his belt and pulled him forward. Her fingers curled around his neck and her nails toyed with the faded hair there. She brought her smeared lips to his ear, her tongue dancing against the shell of it. He shudder. “I want you to make my legs shake and rock my world. Can you do that, Lewis?” 
Her voice. The way her voice dropped in octave but increased in seduction had his head spinning. There were a few moments of silence as he fought hard to gather himself and the more she spurred him on, the most difficult it became. But then, she heard it, “Yes…”
-
“Right there, right there! Oh my…” He was a lover of music. Being in a studio, creating melodies to go with lyrics, was his favorite pastime. But this took the cake. She created her a song better than he could have ever imagined, and was it addicting. 
Her moans, cries, and screams were melodic and his name was the only lyric she knew. He hated repetition in music, but loved hearing hers. So addicting. So well created. So beautiful. 
Her legs trembled around his head and her hands were buried in his braids. He fought the urge to bend her over when she whispered out the faintest, “Baby, please…” She’d used terms of endearment before, but in this context, it was different. “I’m close!”
Her body, damp with sweat and covered in bruises created by his mouth, jumped and jolted as she grew closer to her peak. Lewis sat up, replacing his tongue with his highly skilled fingers. He used his arm to stabilize his body as he hovered over her. What a sight.
Her hair was completely sweated out, pooped and frizzy at the roots. Her makeup stained the pillows and her lips were swollen from her biting and his intense kisses. Her neck was dark with love bites. Her eyelids were hooded but he could see the fire behind her eyes. If only he could capture her and keep the picture in his pocket forever. 
“Doing so well for me,” he whispered, kissing against her cheek and jaw. His fingers made quick work of the huddle of nerves between her legs. “Taking it like a good girl.” Her moans grew louder, higher in pitch, and full of air. It was becoming too much—her hands pushed against his arm, trying to run. “Don’t run now. Isn’t this what you wanted?” 
“Lewis, I’m—“ she cut herself off with a high pitched scream that seemed to ring on forever. Lewis chuckled lightly and worked her through her orgasm. “That’s it, baby.” Her body shook as she tried to come down calmly.
He spent a few minutes between her legs, caressing her gently as an act of comfort. Her loud noises had diminished to soft whimpers as she came down from cloud nine. When she finally opened her eyes again, he asked, “You okay?” 
She was better than okay. Though they didn’t cross all the lines, Anvika had gotten the best orgasm she’d received in her life from a man’s mouth and hands. She’d deal with the consequences later, but in that moment, she felt amazing. 
She nodded and smiled lazily. “I’m okay. Are you…do you want me to…?” Her eyes fell to the evident bulge that strained against his pants. He shook his head.
“I’m okay. Let’s get you cleaned up…”
-
What was supposed to be a shower to clean her up resulted in her on her knees giving him the most intense release he’d experienced in months. It left him panting, shaking, and whimpering like it was his first time all over again. 
Once again, she looked angelic with her now curly hair flat against her back and big brown eyes staring at him as she worked him like the expert she was. He came in her with with a groan, his fingers in her hair. She stood to her feet, smiling innocently as she showed him there was no remnant of him left in her mouth. 
“You’re nasty,” he announced, grabbing her jaw to place a sloppy kids on her lips. 
“Mhmmm, just the way I like it.” 
They migrated to her bed shortly after, laying together in a comfortable silence. Anvika’s head was against his bare chest and herfingers traced the tattoos on his body. Lewis’ arm was around her waist and his hand massaged her plump bottom. 
They were tired, exhausted even. But, they fought sleep like children, internally afraid of what the morning would bring. All actions had consequences whether good or bad. It was a mutual hope that what they’d done wouldn’t bring on the latter. 
“Lewis?” Anvika called after some time. 
“Yes, angel?” 
“Are we gonna be okay?” Her voice trembled slightly. They’d crossed a line--a big one. She had wobbled on her boundaries. There was a lot to discuss and a lot to consider. It was an amazing experience, she couldn’t like, but her biggest fear was that she’d lose him as an important person in her life if reality didn’t set in the way they intended. 
Lewis gave her a squeeze and brought his lips to her forehead. Sensing her worry, he reassured, “We’ll always be okay.” And she believed it.
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dirtyvulture · 3 days
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Envy and Venom - Part 2
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4911
AN: Didn't think I'd write this, but the opportunity was too good to let pass. :)
Click here for Part 1!
DAY 2
“I can’t believe you,” Tony says, watching as you anxiously like a caged animal. “I mean, I can, because Romanoff is smoking hot, but really? On your first day?”
“I didn’t know who she was!” you snap, your stomach churning in knots. You hadn’t been able to eat breakfast, even ignoring the hot black coffee your secretary Wanda had waiting for you like usual when you arrived to the office.
“Literally the daughter of the guy of our biggest rival,” Tony says, clearly only trying to make you feel worse than you already feel.
“I know who he is!” you bark, well familiar with Alexei Shostakov, the enormous, bearded and beer-bellied Russian who had once been on the board of directors at Envy Industries. Alexei was long gone from your dad’s company by the time you entered the scene, and at that point had formed Black Widow Corporation into a juggernaut. Word on the street was that Alexei used “unconventional methods” to stay ahead of competitors and now you wondered if you had fallen right into one of those traps. 
“Why was Romanoff even at the party in the first place?” you ask.
“Why do you think?” Tony scoffs. “Daddy probably sent her to mess with you and no offense…but it worked.”
“We don’t know that,” you defend, although your gut is telling you that Tony is right. 
“So, what did you tell her?” Tony asks, kicking his chair back to wobble on its hind legs.
“Nothing!” You sigh, your brain scrambling to remember your interaction with Natasha before you took her up to your suite. “Uh, I mean…I mentioned the contract we have with Tesla. But a bunch of other people probably overhead too, and that’s not exactly a secret anymore.”
“Mhmm, sure. Anything else?” Tony prompts.
“No. No, nothing else,” you say with an edge of uncertainty. “There wasn’t really much time for talking, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know you, you horndog.” He waves at you.
For once, you feel immensely guilty about not being able to control your behavior. This wouldn’t be the first time you had to face the consequences of the people you chose to take to bed with you, but none had been this jarring or dangerous. You feel used, even though you truly hadn’t revealed any company secrets to Natasha. Just the thought that she knew who you were, and wasn’t honest with you about herself, made your whole interaction with her feel slimy and fake. While you also knew it was ridiculous to think that you were in love with someone you just met, even you won’t deny there had been some kind of spark between you two, but perhaps it had all been manufactured. 
You genuinely want to see Natasha again, hopefully in more honest circumstances, and not just purely for the physical pleasure of it. You knew she was one of the few women on Earth who truly understood your line of work. She didn’t need to pretend (or even study ahead) like some of the partners you had in the past. She was beautiful and smart and managed to turn you into a stuttering, whipped mess in less than ten minutes. No one else had ever been able to do that, and as humbling as it was, it was also hot as hell.
“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask, pulling at the suffocating collar of your shirt. 
“First of all, don’t see her ever again,” Tony responds, and it sounds like he’s telling you you’re not allowed to breathe anymore.
“Fuck,” you grumble, because you know he’s right, but it won’t be that easy to just forget about Natasha. 
“Seriously, Y/N,” Tony goes on. “You have a whole company to run now. Let the media say what they want, but promise me that you won’t be caught with that woman ever again.”
“Caught, you say?” you tease, knowing that he would always offer you a way out.
“I know you,” he repeats. “Besides, I heard she has a sister.”
You laugh, the tense mood lightening considerably. “Yeah, sure, I’ll put in a good word for you when I see her again.”
“You’re the best.” Tony stands up to give you a high-five.
***********************************************************************
Natasha hums to herself as she opens her laptop. She plugs in her headphones and boots up the application that is connected to the microphone she slipped into your jacket pocket. Over 12 hours of audio have already been recorded. Just out of curiosity, she scrolls to the first hour.
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?”
“Shut up and let me fuck you.”
Natasha feels her core light up with desire as she remembers the previous night with you. It had been a long time since she had been fucked so well and you certainly lived up to the hype. When she closes her eyes, she can still remember how your body had felt against hers, the way your muscles flexed in warning when you were about to finish but were waiting for her permission, the intoxicating taste that coated her tongue and had her (quite literally) demanding more and more from you.
“Hey, sestra.” Yelena walks in without knocking, and Natasha’s eyes snap open, tearing off her headphones and closing the audio application.
“What?” she growls, annoyed by the interruption.
Yelena smirks at her. “How was the party last night?”
“Good.”
Yelena doesn’t look convinced. “Did you see that TMZ article?”
“Anyone who relies on that hack as a legitimate source of information is just setting themselves up for disappointment.”
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Yelena states, walking up to Natasha and showing her her phone. 
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Below the headline is a grainy photo of her almost sitting on your lap, both of your heads leaned close together. 
“What’s your point?” Natasha asks, pushing Yelena’s phone away from her face.
“Did Dad approve of this?”
“What does his approval have to do with anything?” Natasha snaps. “I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want–”
“We’re not stupid, Natasha,” Yelena frowns. “And you aren’t either. You aren’t getting mixed up with just anyone, this is the CEO of Envy Industries–”
Natasha waves her hand. “Just stop, Yelena. I know what I’m doing, okay? And I’m the one who’s going to take over the company when Dad steps down, so I need to make sure that we are on top and stay that way.”
Yelena’s expression softens. “Just be careful, sestra. You don’t know what some of these people are capable of.”
“Like Y/N?” Natasha laughs. “She’s just a big rich idiot. I could steal her entire company right from under her nose and she’d just go fill her bed with Victoria’s Secret models and forget it by the next morning.”
“Please be careful, Nat,” Yelena begs. “Do not forget what happened last time–”
“That was in the past. I know better now,” Natasha dismisses, although the hair on the back of her neck rises at the memory. She had been too cocky, too arrogant, and nearly lost her life as a result. But she was certain that wouldn’t happen with you. She had you eating out of the palm of her hand even before the mind-blowing sex. You’d happily hand her the keys to Envy Industries if she promised you five minutes in bed. 
“Don’t worry about me,” Natasha gruffs, turning back to her computer. “Close the door on your way out.”
Yelena doesn’t respond and backtracks. Natasha waits until she hears the click of her door to open the files on her flash drive that contains the data stolen from your systems. None of your files are even password-protected. Maybe your company was even more of a joke than she thought.
***********************************************************************
DAY 14
Tesla backs out of contract with Envy Industries, reportedly in talks with Black Widow Corporation for GPUs
DAY 15
Envy Industries (ENVY) stock drops 15%
Black Widow Corporation (BWC) stock up 10%
DAY 18
Tesla hires Black Widow Corporation to produce hardware for upcoming Model 2
DAY 24
Black Widow Corporation announces AI supercomputer project
DAY 30
Black Widow Corporation (BWC) joins the Magnificent Seven stocks, knocking Envy Industries (ENVY) out
“You need to fix this. Now.”
“I’m trying!” you practically sob, staring at the same headline on your computer that your father is looking at. 
Your first 30 days as CEO had been an absolute whirlwind–of defeats. First, an intern at Tesla had called you to tell you the deal was off. And then to hear that they were taking up business with Black Widow Corporation was like a sucker punch to the gut. No one at your company could understand how Black Widow suddenly had the technology you’d been working on for months, but a nagging feeling in the back of your head told you that you were the only person who knew the answer.
But you couldn’t be one-hundred-percent sure. After all, you had spent one night with Natasha Romanoff, most of it in bed with her getting your brains fucked out. But she had left even before you woke up, and there was no way to confirm if she had managed to get her hands on the confidential information that your company was built upon.
Whatever had happened, Envy Industries was on a steady decline ever since you had taken over and it was not a good feeling. The stock prices were tanking and now you had lost your spot amongst the prized “Magnificent Seven”–also known as the seven highest-valued companies in the United States. It was embarrassing, shameful, and upsetting. The board of directors were having daily meetings about your leadership qualities and you were worried they would boot you from the position any day now. Your father still had some influence, despite stepping down, but with the way he was speaking to you now, you weren’t sure he was going to defend you anymore.  
“I don’t care how Black Widow Corp got the intel. They have it now and we can’t get it back. You need to raise security protocols and if anyone is caught leaking information, they will be publicly humiliated and sued to kingdom come,” your dad rages through the phone. 
“Yes, yes, I agree,” you say.
“You need to focus on recovering from this. What’s done is done. But if you let it get worse, there will be severe consequences. For the company, for its future, and for you.”
“Yes. Yes, Dad,” you gulp.
“Stop fucking around and get your shit together,” he says. “You have a reputation that precedes you and thousands of people are depending on you to see them through this. Envy will come back. Promise me.”
“I promise,” you repeat hollowly, not even convinced of your own words.
“Good girl. We’ll talk later.”
“Okay. Bye, Dad.” You hang up and put your phone face-down on your desk, staring once more at the headline. For the first time, you don’t feel sad, you feel angry. You want to lash out at something–someone. Preferably the person or persons who put you in this predicament. You didn’t deserve this. You hadn’t done anything wrong. But one thing was for certain: you weren’t going to mope around and let them continue to take advantage of you.
There’s a heavy knock on your door.
“Hey, Y/N. Ready for lunch?” It’s Tony.
“Sure. Give me a minute.” You whip your burgundy blazer off the back of your chair with more force than necessary; it gets twisted upside-down and something falls out of the pocket. You squat to pick it up. It’s a black, small, flat circular device that blinks red and there’s tiny little ridges in the center to indicate some kind of microphone.
What the hell is this? you think. You look back at your burgundy jacket. It’s the same one you were wearing the day you were made CEO, the night you met Natasha Romanoff. It wasn’t your most worn jacket, making the occasional appearance if you felt it complimented the rest of your outfit, but spending most of its time hanging in the front of your closet.
A disturbing thought enters your head. This little device couldn’t be what you thought it was, right? But you knew tech better than most people. And you knew that Black Widow Corporation had somehow gotten ahold of confidential information that was causing catastrophic damage to your company.
It takes all of five seconds to formulate a plan. 
You slip the audio recorder back into your pocket and put your jacket on.
Two could play at this game.
“Hey, Tony. Where are we going for lunch?” you call out, trying to keep your voice flat and clear.
“The steakhouse!” But his voice is muffled through the door.
“The steakhouse? The one on 6th Avenue, right?” you ask.
“Unless you suddenly have a new favorite that’s not on 6th,” he grumbles.
“Nope, that’s fine. Let me go check on something in the lab and I’ll be ready.”
***********************************************************************
“What’s wrong with you? Did they get your order wrong?” Tony asks as you poke at the slab of beef on your plate. 
“I’m just not really hungry,” you say. “You know, since our whole company is falling apart and everything.”
“Well, it’s still standing the last time I checked.” You appreciate how straightforward Tony is. Granted, he isn’t under the same kind of pressure as you, but you need someone who can be this cool under pressure in your life. “And I know you can’t be productive on an empty stomach. Should we order those crab legs you like?” 
“No more food please,” you mumble, pushing your plate away from you. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Hurry back. Or I’ll order the whole appetizer menu!”
“Okay, whatever.” But you smile as you walk away from the table to the back. You look at your reflection in the gold gilded mirror, noticing the clear stress lines in your forehead, the darkness under your eyes, the way your cheeks are more hollowed in because you aren’t eating your usual 4,000 calories a day.
You rinse your hands in the sink and pat water on your face. You hear the door open behind you and your heart starts pounding faster. Had your plan worked?
“What’s wrong, honey?” Her voice snaps you to attention, velvety and seductive just like how you remember hearing it the first time. You turn to see Natasha Romanoff leaned against the wall, wearing a white blouse ready to burst at its buttons along with black slacks and towering heels. Her hair loosely bounces on her shoulders and her exposed wrists and neck are adorned with more jewelry than you can count. 
“You,” you growl, striding over to her in three big steps and glaring down at her. “Are we adding stalker charges to your growing list of crimes now?”
“What are you talking about?” Natasha tilts her head to the side dumbly. “I’m here for lunch, just like you. A coincidence isn’t a crime–”
You pull the little audio device out of your pocket. Natasha’s eyes widen for a second before she quickly turns her expression into one of defiance, but she’s already given away her familiarity. “So this is how you’ve been stealing all of our ideas, huh?” you ask. 
“You have no proof that came from me,” she objects.
“I guess not.” You toss the device to the floor and stomp on it so hard with your Gucci loafers that it crumbles with an audible crunch. “And now we’ll never know. But now you’ll have to leave alone for a little bit, right? You have to give us some time to come up with more ideas for you to steal–”
“It’s nothing personal,” Natasha insists. “Business is business, isn’t it?”
“Well, once you put my reputation at risk–” You move one step closer until your chests almost bump. “–My future at risk–” You lower your head until you’re practically breathing on her face. Natasha doesn’t shy away. In fact, you think you see a glint of triumph in her green eyes. “–It becomes very, very personal.”
The tension between you is so thick it’s suffocating. You refuse to break eye contact with Natasha, but you’re not even sure what your next move should be. You know that you should hate this woman, should be calling for her head and outing her to the media for the literal crimes she’s committed, but you also want her. She hadn’t left your mind since the day you met her and knowing that she had been spying on you this whole time was both infuriating and a little arousing. 
Natasha suddenly grabs onto the front of your shirt, yanking you closer to her until your lips crash together. You hate that the contact makes you feel relief, and you wonder if part of your recent frustration can be attributed to the fact that all this time you were secretly yearning for the same woman who was responsible for ruining your life.
“Things between us are very, very personal,” Natasha whispers, her hands slipping under your shirt to scratch across your abdomen. The coldness of her skin makes you want to cringe away, but her fingers hook onto your belt to keep you from going too far.
“Did you get jealous listening to all the girls I was fucking?” you ask.
“No,” Natasha says, but her cheeks redden and you know she’s lying. “But none of them could make you moan the way I do.”
“I wished they were you,” you admit, panting against her forehead as she undoes your belt. “Which is a fucked up thing to say given what you’ve been doing to my company.”
“I’m very good at what I do, baby,” Natasha says, pressing another hot kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I’ll make your life hell if you don’t stop fucking with my company,” you growl, but your threat is significantly undermined by the whimper you let out when her fingers trace down the V-line of your hips to your center. 
“Would you rather I fuck you over your company?” she asks.
“Shit,” you gasp, unable to focus on her question when two fingers slip into you. You’re embarrassingly soaked for her, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had wet dreams of letting Natasha Romanoff fuck you ever since your first encounter. You fall back against the wall, panting as she pistons her fingers in and out of you. “Someone might walk in,” you warn, suddenly reminded about the forbiddenness of this relationship.
“I locked the door,” Natasha says, using her free hand to tug down the collar of your shirt so she can lick and kiss the skin of your neck. You bite on your lip to muffle your moan, your hands going to hold her hips roughly, pulling her closer to you. Her fingers curl and her thumb presses hard into your clit. You feel yourself clench tightly around her and your knees are ready to buckle. “For the record, I did miss you too.” 
“What took you so long?” You have no idea how you’re able to hold a conversation with Natasha Romanoff while she fucks you, but here you are. Your hands wander towards her ass, cupping her solidly and almost lifting her off the floor. 
“I had to wait,” she answers simply, her thumb flicking against your clit and your stomach burns with the stimulation. The slick noises of her fingers sliding into you is downright filthy and you rock your hips forward to urge her to move faster.
“What did you…have to wait…for?” you pant. “Your stocks to…overtake…mine?”
“Sure, baby,” Natasha says, nibbling at your collarbone and marking you with a dark hickey. You still have enough consciousness to notice the way she dodges your question. “You want to cum for me?” she asks, pistoning her hand faster.
“Yes, yes, please,” you beg, already on the verge of finishing. You adjust the angle of your hips so she can reach deeper, her fingers brushing past the sensitive ridges that make you see stars with every touch.
“Wait until I say,” she demands and you whine at her dominance. But you’re in no position to negotiate, so you keep your back pressed against the wall, desperately fighting the tidal wave of arousal threatening to crash down. 
“Nat,” you say, your fingers digging hard into her ass, “Please let me–”
“Wait,” she repeats, sounding both annoyed and aroused. She pumps into you harder and faster, until you’re quivering and don’t think you can physically hold back anymore–
“Babe–”
“Cum for me.”
You feel like your body is tearing apart as you explode over her hand, arching your back off the wall, pressing your heaving chest into Natasha’s, heart pounding like you’ve just sprinted through a marathon. Natasha’s thrusts slow as you ride out your orgasm, and as you slump against the wall, she pulls her fingers out and, sticking them into her mouth to suck off your juices. You watch her hungrily, still dizzy from the rush of endorphins. 
“My turn,” you say, hooking your arms under her thighs and her arms loop around your neck. You pick her up effortlessly and shuffle with her into the handicapped stall. This time, Natasha’s back is pinned to the wall as you crash your lips into hers, reigniting the heat between your legs. But you’ve already got your release and you are more than eager to return the favor. 
You pull down her pants and panties, mouth watering at the sight of her glistening center. You crouch down to pick her up again, this time letting her thighs rest on your shoulders so when you stand up, her pussy is perfectly in line with your mouth. Natasha’s hands tangle tightly in your hair as she draws your head towards her center, her calves locking across the back of your neck.
Without needing any more prompting, you pull forward to taste her. Her moans are music to your ears as you lap at her dripping heat, your tongue pressing deeper in search of more. All you can smell is her, all you can taste is her, and all you can think about is her. Natasha is sinful heaven to you and for a few seconds, you let yourself completely forget about how she’s ruining your life.
Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door.
“Hello? Why is this locked?” someone’s voice on the other side says. 
You reach up with your right hand and cover Natasha’s mouth. She bites into the side of your hand and you hiss at the pain.
“Go get one of the staff.”
“You better finish soon,” you hum, nipping at the insides of her thighs while she squirms on your shoulders. “Or the whole world is going to hear me eating you out in here.”
“They should,” Natasha pants, gripping almost painfully at the back of your head, trying to force you back between her legs. “They need to know that you’re all mine, baby.”
You want to tell her that you don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not her of all people, but the protests die in your throat as she squeezes her thighs around your head. You truly are some kind of servant to Natasha Romanoff. Your tongue runs up and down her slit, poking at her throbbing clit as she bucks forward against your face.
“Fuck, take me already,” she whines. 
“So impatient,” you tease. 
“Less talking, more fucking,” she demands.
“Same to you.” You shove your fingers into her mouth to quiet her, and she sucks on them in a way that you try to mirror against her pussy. Wrapping your lips around her clit and thrusting your tongue into her until she’s a puddle in your arms.
“...I don’t know why the door is locked. Let me speak to the manager to get the key.”
Natasha’s whimpers are muted so you have to gauge her reaction by the rest of her body. The way she grips onto your hair like it’s some kind of lifeline. Her walls milk your tongue desperately, slick spilling onto your chin. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get enough of this woman.
The door clicks open just as Natasha finally comes undone. Your fingers muffle her moans as you quickly lick her clean, wishing you had time to bring her to a second orgasm, but the heels on the floor indicate the two of you are no longer alone. You slowly lower Natasha to the floor, suddenly feeling the burn in your shoulders as you finally relieve yourself of her weight.
“Call me next time you want to fuck someone,” Natasha pulls you in for one final kiss and slips something into your pocket. It’s her business card. 
“We’ll see,” you say, still not exactly sure of this arrangement, but not having the time to hang around and discuss. You leave the stall first, washing off at the sink and slinking out.
***********************************************************************
Natasha waits until you’ve left the bathroom to adjust herself in the mirror. She reapplies another layer of lipstick, smoothing down her blouse and tucking it back into her pants. She struts out of the restaurant, her body tingling in the aftermath of her sexcapade in the bathroom with you.
She steps into the alley adjacent to the restaurant and stands by the overflowing dumpster. She takes your wallet out of her pocket, unfolding it and laughing at the photo on your driver’s license. It was almost disappointing how easy you were. You weren’t cut out to lead a powerful company like Envy Industries. While you might have had the intellect, you clearly could not handle confrontation and even the idea of failure.
Natasha almost feels bad for you, but not bad enough to stop.
She empties the cash from your wallet, the several crisp hundred dollar bills fluttering to the ground. Maybe they’ll make some lucky homeless person’s day. Natasha pockets your heavy metal credit cards, despite having no intention but to use them as paperweights for her office. Then she finds what she’s really after: the solid black card that’s your apartment key. 
Natasha discards your wallet into the dumpster and walks out to the street to be picked up by her driver. 
***********************************************************************
You return to the table, smoothing back your hair and pulling at the newly-formed wrinkles in your shirt. You barely remember to button your shirt back up to your throat to hide the collar of hickeys Natasha left to remember her by.
“You were in there a while,” Tony comments. “You need some Pepto?”
“No, I’m fine.” You sit down, staring at your cold steak while you think. “Can we go now? I have some stuff I need to do.”
“Sure, sure.” Tony calls for the waitress and the check. You slip your phone out to view the location of the tracking device you (literally) implanted into Natasha.
It was a tiny, tiny device, probably about the size of a grain of rice. You could barely feel its weight when you have it balanced on the tip of your finger. 
“This GPS will provide an accurate location down to a meter,” Dr. Pym explains. “Designed and manufactured right here at Envy Industries, so you can rest assured this is the highest quality product you’ll find on the market.”
“Don’t mention this to my dad, will you?” you request, placing the little tracker back in its foam-padded case.
“Of course,” Dr. Pym says. “I answer to you and only you now.”
“Good.”
You weren’t a hundred-percent sure how successful you’d be, but you had tried your best to hold the GPS on your fingertip before sticking your fingers in Natasha’s mouth. Her natural reaction would be to suck and swallow, and you were hoping that the rice-sized GPS would easily find its way down her esophagus into her. 
There was no way she would know about it (or even be able to taste it) in the heat of the moment, and after a few days, it would pass through and the evidence wouldn’t be in her system anymore. You didn’t need more than a few days to track her location and habits. 
With a sigh of relief, you see the red dot on the map indicating that she’s still waiting by the street side of the restaurant, probably for her driver. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself, wondering what Natasha would say when she realizes you’re willing to play just as dirty as her.
The waitress boxes up your steak and hands it to you in a paper bag. You and Tony leave through the back entrance to the cramped parking lot and you wait until you’ve climbed into his Aston Martin to say, “Are you still in touch with that…uh…Buck guy?”
Tony is quiet for a moment. “Oh, you mean Bucky? Yeah, I see him from time to time. Why?”
You’ve never made a request like this before in your life, and you know the moment you do, it’s going to change everything. You take a deep breath, fighting the anxiety in your chest.
“I need him to get me a gun.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: It's getting very hot in here. :) To be continued? 👀
Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰
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dinogoofymutated · 2 days
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I absolutely adore how you write Kurt,
Could you write something for Kurt being concerned for an overworked reader?
And or a reader that struggles with sleep?
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SFW!Nightcrawler/GN! Reader The amount of comfort that this man gives me UGH! He's just so caring and sweet, but I worry about him :( He's been the therapist friend in basically every episode in 97' and he deserves some comfort too so I added basically the reverse version of these headcannons at the end as well! Sorry I didn't end up writing anything for sleep, I've written a fic with some sleep struggle themes here but I might end up writing some seperate headcannons for that later! TWs: Themes of burnout/exhaustion. Mentions of the Genosha attack and Remy's death/funeral, religious themes. As always, reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned. I'm doing my best with adding German dialect while Kurt speaks but I'm not super knowledgeable, so let me know if there's something I need to change!
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Kurt makes it his absolute mission to make sure you're always taken care of. Food, emotional support, laundry, dishes, Hell, he'd give you the sun and stars if you needed them. He just cares about you so much, and he never wants you to feel like you're alone in this world.
This being said, when he feels that you're overworking yourself, he's not afraid to let you know.
When he first starts to notice it, He'll check in on you more often. He'll pull you into a hug and give you kisses and he'll only leave when you reassure him that you're perfectly fine.
If you're still overworking yourself after this, he will outright tell you that he loves you, but you need a break. You can't go on like this and he's concerned about you. He doesn't purposely give you the sad puppy eyes, but seriously, how could you think about saying no to that face?
He really likes to brush his hands through your hair when he's trying to help you relax. He'll move your head into his lap on the couch and hum you softly to sleep. He might take you to bed, but he won't wake you up unless he absolutely has to. He won't go as far as to turn off your alarms, but he just wants you to rest.
However, if you know you're overworking yourself but still refuse to let yourself stop, or take a break, he's going to be a little more "aggressive".
    Your computer screen is giving you a migraine, you feel like you want to tear your brain out of your head, and plainly? You just can’t sit still. You had been in this spot for about six hours straight. The last time you actually got up was to eat dinner, and even then you had only relaxed for what, thirty minutes? You can’t really remember.
    You sigh deeply, leaning back in your chair as you massage your temples. Working for the budding country of Genosha was certainly not for the weak. You needed to have this paperwork finished and faxed before the end of the week so that talks of Genosha entering the U.N. could continue. It was such a hefty amount, but it was necessary. Everyone else had done their part, and all you had to do was make corrections, edit, and make sure everything was in top shape. You’d been working on it for about three days straight, and with the finish line in sight, you didn’t want to stop now. 
    Oh, but your head hurts so bad, and you feel like you're starving. You look from your computer to your copy machine and the huge stack of mostly finished paperwork on your desk. You just want it to be over with, you decide it’s best if you just push through.
    “You haven’t moved from that spot since lunch,” You hear Kurt state. He comes around the side of your chair to brush some stray locks away from your forehead, and you do your best to give him a smile, although it’s obvious the expression is pained.
    “I didn’t hear you come in.” Your voice comes out a little gravelly from being silent most of the day. Kurt’s hands begin to gather your hair and caress the back of your neck lovingly. His hands feel good, grounding. You close your eyes to appreciate the feeling and miss the sight of Kurt’s frown.
    “Let’s get you to bed, Liebchen. I can tell your head hurts.” Kurt’s tone is gentle, although displeased, and it makes you feel guilty when you shake your head and pull away, leaning forward as you restack the paperwork on your desk.
    “I can’t. I’m almost done with this whole U.N. thing and the sooner it’s over, the better.” You mumble stubbornly. Kurt shakes his head at you, pulling your rolling chair away from the desk before you can get your hands on something else. You don’t even have the energy to express your shock as Kurt takes the papers out of your hands, using the table to straighten them before placing them in their proper place. He tuts at you as he does so, and continues to save your files and power down the computer despite your protests.
    “My apologies, love, but I won’t let you rot in this room for another moment. I understand how important this work is to you. Giving Genosia a voice that the world can hear is a very noble cause, and yet it is still a cause that can wait till tomorrow, Ja?” You open your mouth to attempt to protest again, but your head hurts so bad, and you are so tired. Kurt takes your hands to help you out of your chair, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls you into a gentle hug.
    “Okay. But-” You don’t finish your sentence before Kurt is tucking your face into his shoulder, sparing you the view as he Bamfs you away. When he lets you go, you’re standing in your bedroom. You’re thankful that he spared you the sights, knowing that it would have just made your head worse- but it didn’t change the fact that you hadn’t been remotely done in the office.
    “-I still need to lock up, Kurt.” You start to say, but he’s gone in a puff of smoke before you can even finish the sentence. When he makes it back a few minutes later, Kurt sends you a cheeky smile, lifting his tail to show you the keys he must’ve snagged from your pocket earlier. 
    “Did you-”
    “Lock the file cabinet? Yes. And I turned off your lamp, and closed the curtains before I locked the door.” Kurt kisses your temple as he sits you down on the bed, beginning to take your shoes off. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you taken care of.” You feel like your heart might explode with the overwhelming fondness you’re feeling right now. When he’s done with your shoes, he carefully helps you undress and change into pajamas, something he knows you struggled with when you were as exhausted as you are now. He makes sure to tuck you into bed before he himself goes to change. It doesn’t matter how much pain you felt at this point, when he crawled into bed you couldn’t stop yourself from curling up close to him, pressing tired kisses to whatever part of him you could reach. Kurt simply chuckles, pulling you into an embrace as he whispers sweet encouragements for you to sleep.
    “Kurt?”
    “Yes, Meine Liebe?”
    “ ‘Think you could Marry me?”
Now just because Kurt will do everything in his power to keep you from reaching the point of burnout, doesn't mean that he himself will stop from reaching that point.
Kurt is a genuinely good person, right to the core. He likes helping people, he likes to care for others, but he doesn't always ask for help when he needs it. It's not that he doesn't have emotional intelligence for his own feelings, he just tends to soothe himself by assisting others. Even then, to an extent, that's not healthy coping. There is only so much someone can carry alone.
After the attack on Genosha, there was a lot of work that had to be done- and Kurt, being a familiar and dependable face in the many religious communities, was needed constantly in a tumultuous time when many turned to religion.
It's been a struggle for the two of you, much of your time together being cut short in one way or another, and the longer you spent away, the more worried you became.
It all came to a head after Remy's funeral.
    Remy’s funeral was… Rough. To say the least. No one was coping very well, especially not Jubilee. You had walked out to the cars with the group after the last of the dirt had been laid, making sure to give her a tight hug. The X-men were the only real family she had ever had, and now she had lost a brother. You had let her sob for a moment, listening to her cries and the sounds of doors, opening and closing. 
    When everyone had loaded up and was ready to head out, you noticed that Kurt wasn’t there. You told everyone that you would catch up. You had a feeling you knew where he would be.
    You find Kurt in an empty church. He’d shed his outermost robes at some point, and was sitting silently on a pew. His eyes are closed and his hands folded, praying. You don’t disturb him as you sit down, simply reaching a hand out and placing it on his knee, squeezing it to let him know you were there. When he finishes, he places his hand over your own, opening his eyes as he looks down. His tears are flowing freely, and he leans into your touch when you wipe them from his cheeks.
    “I’ve been told that there is strength in a man that freely mourns, but… It’s silly. I can’t help but wish that I was stronger.” Kurt’s almost whispering as he speaks. You feel a lump form in your throat, your stinging eyes welling with tears for the countless time today. It hurts so unbelievably to see someone you love hurting so much, knowing that there is so little that you can do to make the pain go away, even if the loss is shared.
    “It’s not silly. I think that a lot of people feel the same- especially right now.” You say. You take hold of his left hand, tracing the cool metal band on his finger. You compare it to the one you wear, and find yourself thankful that the hand that bears his is still warm. You think of Rogue and Remy. The life they could’ve had together, if only they had been given more time. 
    You lean your head on Kurt’s shoulder, and he rests his head on top of your own. 
    “You don’t have to carry it alone.” You whisper eventually. Kurt says nothing, lacing his fingers between yours. “I know we haven't had a lot of time together lately, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve carried so much on your shoulders- but you don’t have to do it alone. That’s what I’m here for, remember?” Kurt laughs lightly at your words, squeezing your left hand before lifting it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
    “You are a gift that I’m not entirely sure I deserve, my love,” Kurt says. You scoff at him, frowning now as you look up to meet his eyes.
    “Lying is a sin, Kurt.” You say playfully. His smile is blinding, and you gasp as Kurt Wagner of all people rolls his eyes at you. 
    “Even if it was a lie, which it isn’t, as long as I have you near, Schatz, Heaven will be in reach.”
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luvj4key · 3 days
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home. my home - nrk
pairing: bf!riki x gn!reader genre: fluff, established relationship word count: 615 warnings: kissing, affection, VERY soft luvj4key's note: this was written for my lovebug @j4keluver <3 tysm for requesting this :') this was a blast to write and i hope i did you justice <33
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you were pulled out of your light slumber by the sudden feeling of an arm snaking around your waist followed by a soft kiss on your shoulder. you don’t even remember falling asleep. all that you were able to recall was that you were scrolling through tiktok, waiting for your boyfriend to come home from work - nothing new. but apparently you weren’t able to win the battle against sleepiness this time. 
you rolled over on your other side and was met with ni-ki’s soft yet tired gaze. “hey beautiful” he said, moving his hand up to stroke the top of your head. your heart instantly melted at his touch.
“hey ki,” you said in a sleep tone, “when did you get home?”
“not too long ago,” he yawned, “i saw that you were asleep and didn’t want to wake you so i just quickly showered,” he paused, “i’ve seen you asleep so many times but i will never get over how cute you look when you are”
“don’t even,” you scoffed, “i probably look all gross, drooling all over the place” you rolled back onto your back, putting your arm over your eyes.
ni-ki moves down your arm, “don’t say that, you always look cute” he laughed and pulled you closer to him - lowkey forcing you to roll back over to face him. 
once you do, he pinches your cheek causing your face to scrunch up. “what’s up with you tonight?”
“i just missed you… a lot more than usual for some reason” he answered, seeming somewhat bashful.
“ki” you pouted, “we could’ve called when you were on break” you brought your hand up to his cheek, gently caressing it with your knuckles. he leaned into your touch then moved his head over to press a kiss against your hand. 
“my phone died,” he groaned, “so it made it ten times worse”
“of course it did,” you laughed, “no wonder”
“at least i’m home with you now,” he breathed out, pulling you into his chest allowing you to snuggle against it. “you’re my home” he murmured.
you doubted your ears for a moment. did you hear what you thought you just heard? “what’d you say?” you asked softly, leaning your head up to meet his eyes.
“hm?’ he smiled, massaging the back of your head.
“what was the last part you said, ki?” 
“that you’re my home.” he said - as if it was nothing.
you went silent for a moment to process his words. it caught you off guard - not in the bad way. you knew ni-ki loved you. you really do. he made sure it was known every moment you had together. but for him to say that you were home to him, of course you needed a moment to let it sink in. you mustn’t have noticed that your eyes welled up with tears because ni-ki nuzzles his nose against yours - something he would usually do to comfort you and make you smile, which he claims is effective but to you it only made you want to cry even more. 
“i am?” your voice cracked.
“you are y/n, you’re who i always want to come home to. you make me feel complete.”
without needing to say anything else, you pull him into a kiss to which he happily returns. after you pull away from each other, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into your chest. “i love you so much ki”
“i love you more y/n. believe me.” he replies sleepily. 
a few moments pass only to be met with silence as the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms, feeling at home. your forever home.
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©luvj4key, all work is written by me. do not copy or repost
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star1ight0 · 2 days
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Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Always have a place"
TW: mentions of physical/verbal abuse
I have issue, it's okay though writing make me feel better Abt them.
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Yelling it was always a non-stop screaming match in your house, your quirk allows you to absorb sound and turn it into physical energy, unfortunately for your fathers quirk was much stronger than yours and fobadde you to use it outside of school. Your house was hell between your mom and dad fighting all the time and occasionally dragging you into it it felt like internal flames.
One night got particularly bad when your dad started yelling, you stepped in to remove your mom from the situation when he raised a fist to hit her as you jumped in the way. He proceeded to derect all anger at you now. Your mom ran taking the keys urging you to leave but you refused to give him even a second to potentially hurt her. She left leaving you a bleeding bruised mess as your dad walked out the door. You couldn't stand it anymore. Through the rumbing of thunder outside you patched yourself up grabbing a duffle bag with clothes. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you didn't want to be home when he got back.
Walking in through the rain phone in hand you dialed Katsuki's number.
"the hell? Why are you calling me it's 3am on a school night?" He said in the usual gruff tone the sleep still in his voice.
"Katsu, can i-" you were cut off by Katsuki's voice louder than before "Are you outside?! What the hell, is pouring get inside before you get sick." He said even though he sounded more aggressive you could tell he was genuinely worried.
"Katsuki please just listen to me, i- " you paused feeling a wave of hesitation "I need a place to stay tonight.. please" silence. You heard slight movement from his end. "The doors unlocked my parents are sleeping but I'll tell them while you get here. Hurry up I can't have a hypothermic partner." He said hanging up the phone.
You put the phone in your pocket walking the remaining distance to his home. You knocked on the door being greeted by Mrs. Bakugou.
She was like a second mom to you so the look on her face when she was you bruised eye and cut lip/face was beyond frightening. She helped you in placing your bag on the floor calling Katsuki to start a bath for you. "Go up and take a bath dearie, I'll leave some soup upstairs in Katsuki's room for you." She spoke in a rather soft voice.
You went up towards the bathroom seeing Katsuki still warming the water. "What the fuck. I'm gonna kill that bastard." He spoke pulling you into a hug. "Don't it's - it's my fault I got in the way it's just - he was going to hurt her and i- " your voice was braking with tears and finally giving out with a sob. You shoved your face into his chest
"It's okay dummy.. you're here and safe now. I'll take care of everything okay?" He said his voice softening. "Get on the bath I'll throw a towel in the dryer for you" he said placing a kiss on your lips.
You faced away from the door using Katsuki's soap to wash up. When katsuki returns he sees a bad bruise on your side as you wince in pain trying to wash your hair. "Give me the soap" he said his hand outwards. "Kats-" you said trying to cover yourself with your hands. "Nothing I haven't seen before, just lean back and let me do this for you." You felt your face get warm at his beginning remark but let him nonetheless. Afterwards he leaves to let you get changed.
When you entered the room there was a bowl of soup next to the bed and Katsuki was putting away laundry, you walked behind him wrapping your arms around him placing your weight onto him out of exhaustion.
"Hey, you okay now?" He asked shifting so you were in front of him. "Mhm just cold" you said and he placed his hand on your head "your probably gonna be sick. You should've called me I could've gone and got you dumbass" he says but there's no anger anywhere in his voice just worry. He picked you up bridal style placing you on the bed laying next to you. "Mom's okay with you sleeping in here but if you want the bed to yourself.. too bad." He says kissing you. You snuggling into him finally letting your guard down snuggling into him "I don't.. know how long I'll need a place-" you were cut off by a kiss from Katsuki "don't act like you don't have a place here. Besides, the hag likes you so she won't mind"
The rest of the night is cuddling and a little bit of crying, but Katsuki holds you the whole time until you both fall asleep.
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