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tarjapearce · 10 months

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Strawberry Jam (+18)

Dad friend AU!Miguel x fem!reader

Inspired in THIS ask <3 Thanks anon. Hope you like c:

PT. 2

WARNING: SMUT, Age gap, breeding kink, fang kink, choking, rough sex, brief tension, slight fluff.

"Rise and shine, cupcake!" Curtains were drawn out as sunlight seeped in your dim lit room. You groaned in response, trying to cocoon yourself under the sheets.

"C'mon, sweetie. I gotta meet a client in a coupe of hours, need you awake to receive some packages." Silence. He sighed, "I'll bring you some flan." You yawned and smiled. Of course he would, you were his spoiled girl. He had raised you well despite the rocky relationship with your mother.

Someone that had decided to not be a part of your life for quite a while, leaving your dad a good chunk of the responsibility. At least, she provided enough for your college. An agreement that had settled up a long time ago by a judge.

"Make it napolitan, please" He chuckled and kissed your temple. "Oh, forgot to mention, Miguel is coming over to help you."

"Miguel?"

And of course, it had put a toll on his mental health, during the last couple of years. As a father, your father, he was anything but perfect, but he made sure to be there, to always support you. He had met Miguel in one of those support groups for men, and things sort of snowballed from there. Your dad and Miguel had alot in common, single parents, demanding jobs, and unconditional love for their daughters.

You had the chance to meet him a couple of times during college vacations, at first he was intimidating to you. 6'9", a hard look on his face that seemed to only melt away with his close ones, and a hulking muscular figure.

But now, every time you visited you'd find his blue Aston Martin Vanquish parked outside your house, beer in hand, screaming at the screen as a soccergame was on. He wasn't a stuck up guy (Like your neighbors had described him once), despite having flooding money in his account.

His daughter was in one of the best private schools in town after all, thanks to his job at Alchemax. He even got you a lovely gold necklace for your 21st birthday after ruffling your hair, something that annoyed you, since you weren't a child. He had came into your lives' two years ago.

"Yeah,some of the packages are his. He was out of town to get them, so I offered to receive them." The doorbell rang, announcing his presence. Your dad left and you sat on your bed and checked your phone.

Of course, your friends would be always asking about him, one of them even dared to ask if you had fucked him already once they saw you wearing the golden necklace. You knew he was off limits. Mostly out of respect for your dad, and of course, the weird feeling that he just saw you as his friend's daughter.

You stood up to prepare for the day, as uneventful as it would be. Hot shower with sweet smelling products, to then change into a pair of gray sweatpants, bunny slippers and a tanktop, washed your teeth and brushed your damp hair. Then, you came down the stairs only to find Miguel sitting across your dad on the kitchen island, mug of steaming coffee on hands.

"Morning" you greeted him with a pat on the shoulder as you put a bagel into the toaster and served yourself some orange juice.

"Buenos días" Miguel greeted, his eyes following you as you moved through the kitchen. Your house was homey, cozy and perfect for the suburban life. Miguel wore a black buttoned jersey, dark jeans and dress shoes. A black belt accentuating his waist.

"Gotta go then, You're in charge" Your dad spoke, and patted his sturdy shoulder to then leave. You rolled your eyes.

"Anyways, want breakfast?"

"No, Thank you." His eyes were focused on the newspaper before him, that until you bent over to search for jam in the lower cabinets. His eyes were immediately to your rear. he sipped his coffee and hummed. The thin straps of the tank top slid off your shoulder. He closed his eyes, engraving the image in his mind. You sat across him, breakfast on a plate.

"Whatcha getting?" you munched in the bagel, a bit of jam smearing in the corner of your lips. Instinctively, he licked his own.

"Some playground for Gabriela." you nodded as you relished the flavor of your bagel. Licking off, the strawberry jam off your stained fingers. His eyes wandering to the way your lips trapped your fingers, the gold necklace adorning your little neck. It looked almost inviting.

"Glad to see you liked it. Gold looks good on you." You didn't know how his shirts fit him so well without bursting or tearing. His back had been lately the object of your new hyperfixation. You had seen jacked up guys in college, but Miguel was certainly in a whole different level.

"Thanks. It got me into a bit of trouble back in college actually." you snorted and drank your orange juice.

"How come?"

"Well,my friends think that I've got myself a sugar daddy."

His eyes twinkled in amusement, an idea seemed to be popping in his mind.

"Funny they think that when you still keep smearing jam on your face. Come here" He took your hand and pulled you across the kitchen island, even though he was sitting, he still towered over you. You barely reached his chin. He cupped your face, your sweet breath fanned his lips. He pouted as his face inched closer.

"Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa." He mumbled, as he wiped the jam off the corner of your lips to then lick it off his finger. Your eyes went wide, cheeks flushed as you swallowed.

"D-Dad would kill you if he'd see you like this"

"Good thing he isn't around, hm?"

"You're the same age" your voice almost a whisper as he kept cupping your face with a single hand as the other one pulled you closer to him, "You could even be my father!"

Your heart thumped hard against your chest, his warm, coffee-like smelling breath brushed over your lips.

"But I'm not." his hands roamed your shoulders, the straps of your tanktop peeled away under his touch, the fabric slid lower and lower as it hovered over the curvature of your breast.

The doorbell rang. You both froze.

"Puta madre…" he seethed and stood, towering even more over you, "I'll get it. Stay put."

"But-"

"Stay.Put." His finger pointing at you as he disappeared back to the livingroom.

Your mind was still trying to process what just happened. You could hear Miguel exchange peasantries with the delivery man as he received an array of boxes. Your straps were slid back on their original position, and your phone buzzed. "Dad <3" on screen. You picked up.

"Hey"

"Hello, how's everything going?"

"Dad it's just been twenty minutes. But at least the packages just came."

"Careful with a small box, it has some fragile things."

The main door was closed.

"Oh? ok. Uh… You coming home soon?"

"Why, is there a problem?"

Big hands covered your shoulders to pull the upper part of the tanktop down, breast spilled from their confinement. Miguel's hands cupped them and gave gentle squeezes as his mouth kissed your neck.

"N-No, no no. Just asking so I can make-" You bit your lip, drowning a gasp as he toyed with your nipples, "E-Enough lunch for both"

Your hand covered your mouth as his teeth grazed your skin. Somthing you found interesting about Miguel was the fact he seemed to have larger canines than the average people. Whenever he was angry, you could see a glimpse of his pointy teeth underneath his plump lips.

He gave soft love bites, licking the skin. Your skin shivered.

"Ah, don't you worry about it, I might get there until night it seems. Anyways, see ya later, love you cupcake."

Miguel stopped for a moment.

"Love you too." You hung up the call, Miguel removed the phone from your hands and twirled you around to kiss you deeply. His hands fisting your hair to hold you in place as his tongue invaded your mouth with such expertise it made your legs feel like jelly. You gasped as she pressed you closer to his body, warmth spreading all over yours.

Miguel nipped at your bottom lip, and placed you ontop of the kitchen island with ease, bunny slippers falling off your feet as they dangled. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed the piece of cloth on the dining table.

"W-Wait! Shouldn't we better go-"

"Shh." His fingers hooked on the hem of your sweatpants and pulled down along your panties. Smooth skin revealed to his eyes. He pulled your hips closer and dragged a finger down your folds to then ease it inside you slowly. He hissed at the moist and warm feeling, he retrieved the finger back and licked it clean, groaning.

"Riquísimo, preciosa" His hands maneuvered your legs like a toy, he spreaded them to then push them back to expose even more flesh. Your mouth fell open as he dribbled the tip of his tongue around the knub of nerves and then drag it down and up your entrance.

Yelping, you held tight on the sturdiness of the island. His mouth disappeared between your slick folds, your breath caught in your throat as he sucked eagerly at your clit while his tongue flickered.

Your sweet coos and moanings only urged him to hold on you tightly, he moved his head to the sides increasing the intensity of his eating. Your hips grind against his tongue, seeking for relief, but he stopped you, a choked whine from your throat.

"Look at you" He put your hips back on the cold tiles, to then unbuckling his belt. "What would your dad think if he saw you like this?" He pulled you off the island, to then bend you over it. One of his feet, kicked away the clothes.

"All spread for me, eager to be filled up" He slapped your pusy softly as he pulled his underwear and pants down, also kicking them away, "Wanna make him a grandpa?" Your eyes went wide, panic surged through your mind but he pushed your torso flat against the cold surface. His legs separating your own.

His fingers prodded inside once more before coating his cock and as gently as he could, eased his way inside you. The stretching of his cock had you biting your lip and gripping softly at his wrist.

"Ohmy god" you half whimpered, slurred as he filled you completely.

"Estás tan apretada, mami" He kneaded your trembling hips. One hand held you in place as the other one twisted in your lowered tanktop. His hips rolled slowly. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable enough before his hips smacked yours with enough force to make you lurch forward, air knocked out of your lungs. You were on your tip toes. His hand slapped your ass as it bounced back and forth on his cock.

"Such a good girl" he grunted and sunk his nails on your hips, "Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi." His hand freed the tanktop to take a fistful of your hair and pulled back. He had gone to ruffle your hair, to pull it.

Your arching gave him the perfect spot to ram into. So ever tight and hot. You hissed as an array of lewd cursing flew out your mouth. His balls slapped your flesh mercilessly.

"Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?" he clicked his tongue in feigned disapproval. He let your hip go, hands immediately hooking underneath your right thigh and hoisted it up, spreading you like a book, pounding deeper and rougher into you.

Your pants and desperate moanings drowned his growling. Your body felt on fire, a thin layer of sweat covered your body, his torso glistened in sweat. His front bangs had fell onto his face by the constant movement.

You held onto his forearm, contorting your torso up, to see his lust blown face. His hands made sure to hold you tightly, preventing from falling. Big eyes stared at him, too lost in sinful thoughts as he pressed closer, deeper into you.

"Fuck me" You choked a sob as your orgasm approached. Your voice too coarse from the constant mewling.

"Just like this, mami?" he breathed before hoisting your leg a bit wider, you whimpered, nodded and clawed at his arms. You begged him to not stop, your orgasm was around the corner as he rawed you silly.

Your inner thighs and outher flesh were flushed by the constant rough slapping of his hips, the hand that held your leg, snaked its way towards your neck, squeezing tighly, your leg dangled and swayed at the rythm of his thrust.

"Come for daddy, preciosa" he groaned as his thrustings turned erratic and sloppier, slickness rolling down your sopping pussy and inner thighs.

"Fuck fuck fuckfu-" He let your leg go and held you tightly against him. your feet barely touching the floor, your torso once more flat against the cool tiles of the island as he painted your walls white with a guttural growl. It earned him a shaky and loud mewl.

"Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí." He picked you up and kissed you on the lips, "You alright?"

You nodded and panted, legs trembling.

"We gotta… clean up" he nodded with a smirk.

---------------

"Hey cupcake?"

"Hm?" You were sat on the solo couch, browsing through your phone as Miguel sat in the couch nearby. Your dad had arrived an hour after you were done cleaning yourselves. Something that had nearly turned into round two if it wasn't for the fact that your dad had called in to announce he was on his way back.

"Did you cook something?"

"Eh no, why?"

"Kitchen smells funky." Your eyes widened, as Miguel went stiff. You had been too engrossed in eachother that barely had the time to clean after your mess. Your dad went back to the kitchen to get himself a beer. It had been an uneventful evening for him, he was gone two hours but it was good enough for him to get a new sponsor to his remodeling contractors firm.

You shared a nervous glance with Miguel. Your dad groaned annoyed.

"(Name)"

Uh Oh. He only used your name when he was pissed.

"Yes, dad?"

"Look, your… sex life is none of my concern, really. But from all the places you could… do such thing, was the kitchen necessary? And you, I told you to keep an eye on her." He scowled at Miguel. You hung your head in embarrasment as Miguel chuckled with his hands up defensively.

"Who was it?"

"W-What?"

"Whose the guy, so I can talk to him, to not pull this… stunt again. You're better than that, (Name)"

"Hey, relax. Go easy on her." Miguel spoke

"Shut up, O'Hara."

"C'mon, you probably acted worse when you were her age. Remember when you told me about the time you-"

"Miguel, stop." Your face went as red as a tomato and your dad sighed. He looked between you and Miguel, and you could swear the five stages of grief going through his face at the sudden realization.

"You fucked my daughter…"

"Dad, stop!"

"Dad, nothing! Go to your room, now."

"You can't ground me, I'm old enough to-"

"To what? Be a step mom? Fuck older guys that could be your father? You don't know what you are getting into, young lady."

"You out of everyone know that I'll never do something that would put her in danger."

"Miguel, I don't know how your brain works right now, but You.Fucked.My.Daughter. My Daughter! The last thing I want is her being a mother before she finishes college."

"She won't be. That's a promise."

"Damn right it is, cause you won't be seeing her anymore."

"W-What? Dad!"

"I thought you were in your room, like I fucking told you."

"Don't talk to her like that." Miguel frowned

"My daughter, my house, my rules. You need to leave."

"You're angry, I get it. It was wrong of me to cross you like that, but she is old enough to know what she wants. I would never force her to do something she doesn't wants to do." Miguel spoke with his hands still in defense.

"For how long have you… been doing this?"

"It was the first time, actually" you spoke meekly from the doorframe.

"Like, you're always complaining about the few guys I introduce you to-"

"This is different!" you had never seen him so serious and angry.

Silence stretching too long, your dad sighed, annoyed.

"I fucking… I fucking swear, O'Hara. If you get her pregnant, I'll fucking kill you."

"Relax, I'm not making you a grandpa." Your dad's shoulder slumped, defeated.

"Yet." They went tense again.

"Oh my god." Your need to be swallowed by the earth underneath and to spit you away from them only increased as their conversation kept unfolding.

"So, now the surprise has been popped, that means I have your permission to properly date her?" Your dad rubbed his face tiredly.

"I wanna make things right." Miguel glanced at you.

"I've known you for a couple of years, and you've met her ever since she was eighteen. You're not a bad man, but trust me when I say that if this girl, my girl, comes here with tears in her face because you did something stupid to her, we're done. Understood?"

"Por supuesto" he went to your side and pulled you closer.

"And clean up this fucking mess."

He left to his room and left you alone. Of course you'd talk to him later, when everything was a bit more calm. Miguel on the other hand kissed your temple and sighed in relief.

"So…"

"Sunday night, at 6 for dinner?"

"Sure."

"Don't worry, he'll be fine. Just give him time to get used to it."

"What if he never gets used to it?"

he kissed your hand

"You'll come with me"

------------------------

Buenos días- Good Morning

Pero qué muchachita tan desastrosa- What a messy girl

Puta madre- Fucking shit

Riquísimo, preciosa- So delicious, gorgeous

Estás tan apretada,mami - You're so tight, mami

Te voy a coger tan bien que cada vez que entres a este lugar, te acuerdes de mi- I'll fuck you so good that every time you enter this place, you'll remember me

Con esa boca le dices a tu papá que lo amas?- With that mouth you tell daddy you love him?

Te ves tan bella así, toda llena de mí - You look so beautiful like that, all full of me.

Por supuesto- Of course.

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #female reader #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv smut #spider man 2099 smut

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ugh-yoongi · 3 months

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hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #jewel writes

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reveluving · 5 months

Text

see you soon ; jason todd x batmom reader (ft bruce wayne)

includes: jason's beloved dubbed 'princesa' (can read it as her and/or jason being latina/latino or spanish being jason's 1st/2nd language!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: combining @xoxokirby's jason todd x princesa with my batmom AU in this quick, cute thought because I just love talking about them together 💗

check out my batmom m.list <3

"Alright, so here's the hot chocolate," You carefully passed Jason the heavy double-cup holder, "And in here is your Philly cheesesteak, some soups and your girl's panini sandwich. And I threw in some brownie pudding in there since we had extra. Make sure you don't heat it up beyond forty-five seconds. You're lucky you texted me just as dinner rush started."

While waiting for Jason to come and pick up the orders he had requested you just hours ago, you closed down the necessary so you could head home with Bruce straight away once he finishes his work in the office. Not once had Jason stopped offering on taking you back to the manor first before heading back to his girlfriend at his apartment, but you insisted otherwise.

And how could he say no to his mother?

"Yeah, that's on me," Your son smiled sheepishly, holding the bags of food and drinks with ease, "Y'sure we don't gotta pay up?"

"What makes you think I'm making my own kids pay for food at my café all of a sudden?" You rested your hands on your hips, brows raised as if he had asked the dumbest question ever.

"'m just askin', y'don't have to be so mad. Sheesh," He shrugged, only to dodge your playful smack with a laugh, "Kiddin', kiddin'."

But the big smile on his face remained.

A lot of things make him smile, be it from you, his siblings, Bruce at times or his beloved, but he just couldn't help replaying how you considered his girl one of 'your kids', as if, like him, you just knew she was the one.

"Be sure to tell her about the family dinner that we're having in two weeks." You reminded him, slipping on your gloves before turning off most of the lights. It would be her first dinner with the Waynes, and you wanted nothing more than to have her as a part of your family’s cheesy traditions.

"I will," He nodded, and just as you wondered about the extra joy he was radiating, he hugged you with one arm—the one that was holding the bag of food, "Thanks, ma."

"Oh, Jay," You chuckled, returning the hug with a few pats in his back, "I'm just looking out for my kids."

Just then, you and Jason heard the sound of engine approaching, and lo and behold, the familiar black Aston Martin came into view.

"That's our cue. C'mon," You playfully pushed him from the back, drawing a worried 'ma!', afraid he might drop the food. You just responded to his pout with a cheeky smile before exiting the café, with him waiting for you to lock the door. Winter came in early in Gotham, and the citizens took the opportunity to decorate the city in ways that seemed so... familial.

You opened the passenger door, "Hey." You lit up as Bruce leaned in, his warm lips tickled your cold cheek.

"Sorry I'm late. Tried to finish up some of the last reports before the holidays."

You reassured him, shaking your head as you did, "You're not, I promise. Plus, Jay waited with me."

Bruce looked over at your door, where Jason stood, "Thanks, Jason. Head home safely and don't forget about the dinner, alright?"

"I won't," He nodded curtly as he walked backwards, heading to the alley where he parked his bike, "I'll text y'when I reach home."

"Say hi to princesa for us!" You grinned, waving as you watched your son disappear into the back of the store. You closed the door, turning to Bruce and officially greeting him with a quick but nonetheless sweet kiss, "Hi, you."

"Hi yourself," He sighed in content, leaning in for another kiss as he held the steering wheel, "Shall we?"

"Of course." You replied, and just as your seatbelt clicked into place, Jason drove past you, but not before waving at you and Bruce as he did.

With the end of the year around the corner, you were tired, and so was Bruce. Jason was no different and he didn't doubt that his girl was beat, too.

But it was impossible to suppress the smiles on your faces, knowing that none of you will end the day by your lonesome.

Just a hot drink in hand, a comfy bed to cuddle up in, and your other half to hold onto.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

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apothe-roses · 4 months

Text

Dance of the Sugarplum Prince

Nutcracker!Aemond x Clara!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: violence, character death, smut, tiddy sucking, oral (f-receiving), uncle-niece incest, unprotected sex, piv sex, breeding kink, possessive Aemond, obsessed Aemond

A/N: I may not be the first nor the last to do a nutcracker au, but I’m doin it anyways! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. All rights go to HBO and George RR Martin

The snow falls heavy and thick outside the window. You watch the snowflakes dance to the ground while your family makes a ruckus behind you. The adults Gossip amongst themselves while your brothers laugh and joke amongst themselves. You love your family, but you’ve grown tired of your overbearing aunties trying to set you up with “nice boys” they know.

You notice a figure making their way towards the front door, making your own way towards it to greet them. Right after the doorbell rings, you open the door, smiling at the woman on the other side.

“Aunt Alys,” you smile and embrace the older woman.

“Forgive me for my tardiness, but it’s nearly impossible to make one’s way through that,” she replies, indicating to the storm outside. Other family members come to greet Alys, so you move to the side and let them. She pulls a large case out from under her coat. She reveals several beautifully made dolls, winding them up and letting them dance across the carpet. Your family is in awe. While they’re distracted, Alys approaches you.

“I have a special gift for you,” Alys says. She opens her bag, gingerly pulling out a final doll. He was a beautiful man with long silver hair and black armor accentuated with gold.

“This,” you aunt explains, “is no ordinary knight. He is a prince of a faraway land.”

“Oh Alys, she’s too old for dolls!” your mother calls from across the room.

“Oh, but he’s so beautiful!” you rebut. “Couldn’t I just put on on my shelf and admire him?”

“You can put these dirty dishes in the kitchen,” your mother tells you. You sigh, setting your doll on the windowsill. Alys follows you into the kitchen.

“Perhaps you should’ve brought me a real prince. That would’ve made mother happy,” you laugh. Alys simply smiles at that.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounds from the sitting room, followed by your mother shouting “Luke!” You rush into the room. Your doll is lying on the floor at your brother’s feet.

“It was an accident!” Luke explains. “I only wanted to get a closer look!”

You rush over, picking your doll up off the ground. One of his eyes is broken. Luke apologizes profusely while you carefully extract the broken pieces. Alys approaches.

“I couldn’t find a spare eye, but this should fit,” she says, handing you a small sapphire. You slip it into his empty socket; it fits perfectly. She provides a small strip of black fabric that you use as a makeshift eyepatch.

“Thank you, Alys,” you say, giving the older woman a hug. You don’t notice the worried look she gives your doll.

BONG

Was it midnight already? You must have nodded off at some point. You look down at your prince, admiring his handsome face. Perhaps it’s the dim light, but it looks as though his mouth twitches.

You’re about to go to bed when something moves at the edge of your vision. A small man walks out from under your Christmas tree! For a moment, you think it’s your prince. However, this man has two eyes and looks older. He wears a crown that looks like it’s made of wood. He’s looking around, clearly searching for something. You stay as still as possible, hoping he doesn’t notice you. Theres a possibility you’re still dreaming, but you’re not willing to take that risk.

“Looking for someone, Daemon?” a voice calls out. Both your heads snap to the corner where it came from. Your mouth falls open. It’s your prince! But he’s alive! He approaches the man, sword drawn.

“Aemond,” Daemon greets. “It appears you’ve suffered a horrible accident. Shame. I was hoping for a fair fight.”

“And you’ll get one,” Aemond snaps. At that moment, more figures storm into view. You recognize them as your brothers’ toy soldiers.

“Alright. Two can play at that game,” Daemon raises a hand, and several mice scurry out from nowhere. You clap a hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. Daemon and Aemond draw their swords, circling one another. Daemon strikes first, but Aemond is quick to block. The mice and toys launch at each other. You’re enthralled. Though bloodless, the battle is intense.

Suddenly, Daemon strikes Aemond’s blind side. He’s sent flying to the floor, his sword clattering away. Daemon smiles viciously, standing over his nephew. He raises his sword to strike the killing blow and—

WHAM!

A giant slipper knocks him off his feet. Aemond glances at you, noting you are now missing a slipper. He grins, then springs into action. He draws a dagger, races to his uncle, and plunges the blade into his neck. Daemon never had time to regain his senses before he bleeds out, choking and clasping at his throat. The battle stops. The now leaderless mice scurry off, and the toy soldiers return to where your brothers left them originally. Aemond walks over to you. As he does, he grows until he’s the height of a normal man. You stare up at him, lips parted. He’s tall, and even more handsome as a man.

“You saved me,” he states, kneeling at your side.

“I-it was nothing,” you stammer, blushing. “I didn’t want him to…kill you.”

Aemond’s lips curl into a smirk. “Such a sweet thing you are,” he muses. He reaches out, winding a lock on your hair around his finger. “It’s not every day a man can say he was saved by someone so beautiful or kind.”

Your blush deepens. “You’re too kind,” you whisper.

“You must come back to the castle with me. My family will want to meet the girl who helped defeat my wicked uncle and his wretched mouse army,” he stands, extending a hand to you. You look around the empty sitting room, wondering what to do.

“It’s only for tonight. I promise to have you back by morning,” he assures you. You bite your lip, not noticing the way his gaze darkens. Then, you smile and take his hand. When you stand, you notice how much taller he is. you look down shyly, but he tucks a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to his. For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. But then he says, “let’s be off then,” and leads you to the Christmas tree. With each step, you shrink until you can easily walk under the branches.

You spot a castle in the distance. A beautiful red fortress perched on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a sprawling city. The faint ringing of bells can be heard.

“It seems word of our victory has spread,” Aemond observes. “I imagine the celebration is well underway.

“Oh, but I’m not dressed!” you realize.

“Look down, little one,” Aemond replies. You do, and you gasp. Your simple nightgown had been replaced with a beautiful white dress, tied by a large red ribbon. The skirt floats in light layers down to your calves. Your feet are covered by red slippers with ribbons wrapped around your legs.

“How…?” you start to ask, the question dying on your lips when you look up and see Aemond had changed as well. He’s wearing a black and red jacket adorned with golden epaulettes, and also matching breeches and shiny black boots. His hair is loose, and the swath of ribbon covering his eye is replaced with a proper eyepatch.

“Come,” he requests, extending his hand. “We don’t want to miss out on the festivities.”

The walk to the castle is filled with merriment as the small folk throw flowers over your heads and dance and cheer. Inside the castle is even more merry as ball is in full swing. You spy the king and queen at the end of the hall, their matching silver hair catching the light.

Aemond leads you to the middle of the dance floor and leads you in a waltz. The night passes in a series of twirls and lifts, until a hush falls over the crowd.

The king leads his queen off the dais into the center of the crowd. Everyone pushes back, forming a wide berth around them as they lead a solitary waltz. You feel a large hand on the small of your back.

“Come with me,” Aemond whispers. His breath tickles your ear.

He leads you out of the room. The two of you race down the halls. You haven’t felt this exhilarated since you were a child chasing your brothers outdoors.

You’re lead into a bedroom that you presume is his. You don’t have time to take in the decor, as he grabs your face and kisses you hungrily. You kiss him back, hands tangling in his soft hair.

He deftly undoes the bow on your back. He tries to untie the laces, but he gets impatient and just tears your dress open. You gasp as your dress falls from your body.

Aemond scoops you up and lays you on the bed. He looks over you like a lion about to devour his kill.

“Have you ever been with a man before little one?”

“N-no,” you stutter, causing him to chuckle.

“Well,” he starts, “allow me to show you.”

He tears the rest of your underthings off, leaving you bare before him. Without breaking eye contact, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Your head rolls back as he sucks on the sensitive flesh, kneading your other side.

“So beautiful,” he gasps, switching to the other tit.

“So perfect.” He trails kisses down your torso. He fingers swipe through your folds. He brings them to his lips and sucks them clean; his eyes roll back and he groans.

“I knew you’d taste sweet,” he purrs. He lowers his head to your mound and drags his tongue through your folds. You gasp and instinctually shy away, but he pins you with this hands on your hips. You can only moan as he relentlessly devours your cunt.

“M-my prince…”

“Aemond. Call me Aemond,” he breathes, sending a shiver through you. You feel your peak approaching, closer and closer. It’s just about to wash over you when he pulls away. You whine at the loss of stimulation.

“The first time I make you come, it will be on my cock,” Aemond states, once again leaning over you. He sheds his clothing with ease. He’s truly one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. His cock is long and thick, and already leaking. He strokes himself as he gets into position.

“What if it doesn’t fit?” You ask innocently.

“It will fit.” He replies. “I’ll make it fit.”

He angles his cock and enters you with one sure thrust. You gasp loudly, clinging to his shoulders.

“Gods you’re tight,” he whispers. He begins to rock in and out of you, setting a steady pace.

“So wet, and I’ve barely touched you. Such a needy little thing. Absolutely begging to be fucked.”

You babble incoherently in response. Aemond chuckles and starts playing with your pearl.

“Already cockdumb are we?”

He pinches your pearl.

“I could keep you here you know. Fuck you—breed you— day and night, until your belly swells with my child. You’d like that wouldn’t you? My perfect little princess. My broodmare. Mine.”

You’re a little frightened by his declaration, but you’re to overwhelmed by pleasure to do anything about it. You can only lay there as you climax, the pleasure melting your bones and heating your blood.

“That’s my girl. That’s my good girl,” he groans, and you feel his cock pulse followed by a sense of warmth. He keeps his cock plugged inside until he starts to soften, then he pulls out. You feel a mixture of your fluid and his seed leak out. He hold your legs open, admiring the sight. Then, he lays down, pulling you into his arms.

“You’ll want for nothing. I’ll make sure of it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hair.

You lay against his chest, and it isn’t long before sleep claims you.

“Sweetheart, wake up!” you hear your mother call. You reluctantly open your eyes. You’re in your own bed, in your own room.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but we have some surprise guests waiting downstairs,” she pulls open the curtains, and you wince at the sudden brightness.

“Get dressed quickly! I need to get back downstairs!” she rushes out of your room, closing the door behind you.

At first, you don’t move. There was a heaviness in your chest. It had all been a dream. Of course it had been a dream. Mice soldiers, living dolls, and princes could only be the product of dreams. This is the real world, and there are guests waiting for you.

As you get dressed, you realize your prince doll is nowhere to be found. You must have left him downstairs.

Voices could be heard in the sitting room as you make your way downstairs. Unfamiliar voices. You round the corner and freeze. Sitting around the room are three very familiar faces.

“Darling, these are my half-siblings.” She leads you to the Sugarplum King. “This is Aegon,” then to the Queen, who smiles sweetly at you, “Helaena,” then finally to the most familiar of them all, “and this is Aemond.”

He takes your hand in his, planting a kiss on your knuckles. You stare up at him with wide eyes. He’s wearing an eyepatch. Over the same eye your brother broke. Was he hiding a sapphire under there?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you breathe.

“Please, the pleasure is all mine, niece,” he purrs, looking at you in a way an uncle should never look at a niece.

“What happened to your eye?” Luke asked abruptly. Jace whacks him on the shoulder, admonishing him.

“Ow!”

“It’s alright. It was an accident long ago,” Aemond replies.

“Oh, let’s not dwell on unhappy memories,” your mother says, turning to Helaena. “How is Alicent? It’s been too long since I’ve heard from her.”

The conversation carries on, but you’ve stopped paying attention. You’re not looking at him, but you feel his gaze on you. Just as intense as it had been when he made love to you in your dream.

A dream.

It had only been a dream.

Right?

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut

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cirrus-grey · 5 months

Text

Arranged marriage AU where Jon and Martin are Nobles With Neighboring Estates who meet as teenagers and fall in love. When they come of age they find out their respective families have engaged them off to strangers, so - unwilling to face a life apart - they flee their homes in the middle of the night to be together.

Cue Peter Lukas (distantly related head of Martin’s family) and Jonah Magnus (ditto for Jon) frantically beginning their own months-long searches for the runaway grooms, desperate to find them and drag them back to their weddings.

Eventually the two are located on a small rural farm, living the cottagecore life. Peter and Jonah are summoned; their carriages pull up outside the small house at the same time. They disembark, frowning at each other.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for my family's runaway groom, Jonathan Sims."

"I'm looking for my family's runaway, Martin Blackwood."

They both look at the house.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

There's a knock at the front door. Jon opens it and finds himself face-to-face with Jonah.

"Hello, Jon."

Jon pales and takes a step back. "You can't make me go back."

"I think-"

Before he can speak, Martin enters from another room in the house. "Jon, who's-" and then he freezes, and pales as well.

"Hello, Martin," Peter says.

"I won't go back," Martin replies, his voice shaking. He steps up next to Jon and puts a hand on his shoulder. Jon reaches up to hold it with his own, and Peter and Jonah's eyes focus in on the rings on their fingers.

"Please," Jonah says, through gritted teeth. "For the love of god. Tell me the two of you didn't run away to marry each other."

Jon's chin juts out in defiance. "And if we did? You can't separate us."

"Oh for goodness-!" Peter says. "We've been looking for you for months! Countless man hours we’ve wasted to bring you back for your wedding, only to find out you're already married?"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you went and sold our futures away!" Martin says. "We're not pawns in your chess game, we're not just going to go along with whatever schemes you come up with to marry us off to-"

"-each other?" Jonah interrupts.

Jon and Martin freeze.

"...What?"

Peter waves a hand at Jon. "Martin, this is the Magnus boy you were arranged to marry!"

Jonah nods at Martin. "This is the Lukas child to whom you were engaged, Jon."

"What?"

"Did you seriously," and there is a vein throbbing in his temple, "know each other for years, run away from your homes together, get married, and it never, not once occurred to you to tell each other what families you came from?"

Jmart get their asses dragged back home for a Real and Proper Legal Wedding (the first definitely wasn't - they exchanged rings and declared their undying love for each other in a moonlit field with no witnesses). As soon as the ceremony's over they're banished back to their farm because no one wants to put up with any more of their bullshit.

And there they live happily (if somewhat embarrassed) ever after.

#the magnus archives #my magnus archives stuff #my writing #magnus archives fanfiction #the dinghy #jonmartin #original post

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diorsluv · 5 months

Text

feather , part 2

“ oh, it’s like that ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by landonorris, jackhughes, trevorzegras, and 81,589 others

yourusername i told them i wanted to see carlos sainz (and charles leclerc but mainly carlos) and then they proceeded to get all dressed up for mclaren and aston martin

BUT I GOT TO SEE LANDO NORRIS UP CLOSE SO I DEDICATED THIS WHOLE POST TO HIM

tagged: jackhughes, colecaufield, trevorzegras, landonorris

view all comments

jackhughes bold of you to tag lando as if he’d ever see your post 😂

→ yourusername that emoji is atrocious AND he liked my post so HAH

→ landonorris i did see the post!

→ yourusername AND HE COMMENTED

→ jackhughes yeah but it’s only because you tagged him 😂😂😂

→ charles_leclerc actually i can confirm he stalked her profile as soon as everyone left

→ jackhughes i stand corrected.

→ yourusername I’M GONNA IGNORE THE CONTEXT OF THE REPLY BECAUSE CHARLES LECLERC OH MY FUCKING LORDDD

colecaufield don’t forget about fernando alonso

→ yourusername that’s your man coley i’m not taking him from you 🙌🙌

→ colecaufield WHAT? SINCE WHEN WAS HE MY MAN??

username42 i only came here because lando got tagged but then i saw her other posts and SHE’S SO GORGEOUS?? WHO IS SHE

liked by yourusername

→ username5 she’s currently a student at the university of michigan and has a brother named jamie drysdale who plays for the anaheim ducks! knows a lot of nhl players but she often only interacts with her brother’s friends 😁😁

→ yourusername OKAY username5 HIT US WITH THE PARAGRAPHHH???

rutgermcgroarty YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULD TAKE ME IF YOU EVER WENT TO AN F1 RACE

→ yourusername IT WAS SPONTANEOUS AND JACK ACCIDENTALLY BOUGHT AN EXTRA TICKET

→ rutgermcgroarty NOT AN EXCUSE

username17 I DIDN’T KNOW YOU LIKED F1 WHATT

username88 WHY IS SHE LITERALLY ME, I LOVE THE FERRARI DRIVERS SO MUCH

→ yourusername carlos sainz ❤️

trevorzegras didn’t know you were so obsessed with lando norris lil drizzy 👀

→ yourusername LIL DRIZZY NEEDS TO DIE RN.

→ yourusername AND LANDO WAS ALWAYS ONE OF MY FAVORITES DON’T EVEN

liked by landonorris

mackie.samo uh oh he’s getting pouty 😥

edwards.73 little drizzle he’s been glaring at his phone for 15 mins straight

→ yourusername NOT YOU TOO THE NICKNAMES ARE GETTING OUT OF HAND

lhughes_06 i could’ve come with.

→ jackhughes hell no

→ yourusername it’s okay moose, jack and trev were being annoying the whole time anyway 😊

→ lhughes_06 still i could’ve gone

→ yourusername but lukey you don’t even like f1

→ lhughes_06 i do now

→ _quinnhughes i call bullshit

yourusername

liked by dylanduke25, luca.fantilli, colecaufield, and 69,043 others

yourusername was feelin myself

view all comments

username3 YES YOU DEVOUREDDD

lhughes_06 yo the shades are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

→ luca.fantilli and the rings are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

→ trevorzegras and the necklace is 🔥🔥🔥🔥

→ yourusername please stop speaking like 8th grade boys

_alexturcotte aw mini drysdale you look very pretty

→ yourusername AW THANK YOU SM TURCS ☺️🥰

→ jamie.drysdale stop trying to make a move on MY SISTER

→ yourusername OH MY GOD JAMIE STOP

→ trevorzegras i believe i was the one who was first in line turcs, wait your turn 😒

→ adamfantilli actually i think someone ELSE was first in line… cough cough

→ _alexturcotte IT WAS AN INNOCENT COMPLIMENT

username12 haha 69k likes

dylanduke25 mini drysdale, “feeling myself” means feeling good about yourself or thinking you look good

→ yourusername i feel good about myself and i know i look good 🤭

username23 ATE DOWNNNN

username95 be the sainz to my leclerc I NEED YOU 🛐🛐🛐🛐

edwards.73 you look pretty!

→ yourusername WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ETHAN EDWARDS??

→ edwards.73 can i not compliment you…..?

→ yourusername you’re being weird.

→ edwards.73 DUDE WTF I DID NOT COMMENT THAT SHIT, LUKE TOOK MY PHONE

→ lhughes_06 I DID NOT

→ yourusername all of you need to stop letting people on your phones so easily good lord

next chapter notes ) this one’s a bit short BUT I STILL LIKE IT!!! you all got to see the f1 fangirl that was buried deep down in 2021 and my love for lando norris and the ferrari boys measure to no other 🤍 also i might just start putting wtv fandoms im in as collabs bc this is basically a crack series

#luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #umich hockey #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte #jamie drysdale #adam fantilli #luca fantilli #ethan edwards #mark estapa #mackie samoskevich #dylan duke

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bearr02 · 7 months

Text

Safe and Sound |Chapter Nine|

Pairing: Hybrid!ot7 x f!reader

Chapter warnings: Jungkook has a bit of a breakdown and Y/n is there for him :(… looks like we found Yoongi’s secret..

Summary: You have worked at a hybrid rehab and adoption center for years, enjoying being able to help people others only see as their animal side. You thought you might end up taking in one or two, what you didn’t expect however, was to take in 7.

Genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut, non-idol au, hybrid au, strangers to friends to lovers au

Word count: 1.3k

Member’s hybrid types: Namjoon: Bear, Yoongi: Bobcat, Hoseok: Ferret, Jin: Wolf, Jimin: Red panda, Jungkook: Bunny, Taehyung: Marble fox

A/n: okay like, I know I’ve been posting a bunch, but like, I’m restless and my mind is flowing rn and the ideas won’t stop (I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I’m happy abt it) sooo yeah..don’t be surprised if I post more soon, or if I don’t. Whichever happens, I’ll let you guys know if I do get another writers block or something tho

Last - Next - Masterlist

You groan, shifting around on your bed. “Y/n!” A voice yells before you feel a body pounce on top of your own making you groan. You open your eyes, looking down at the shaking man on top of you through your bleary eyes. Your brows furrow, blinking in an attempt to make it go away. The first thing you can make out is long ears, then Jungkook’s tear stained face as he looks up at you for a moment before burying his head in your neck.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jungkook. “You passed out.” Dr. Martin mumbles, standing beside your bed with Hoseok. You remove an arm from Jungkook, opening it in Hoseok's direction. He immediately claims the opened spot, tucking his head into the other side of your neck. “What happened?” You ask, looking at Dr. Martin to the best of your ability. “The man uh tackled you and I think you hit your head pretty hard.” Dr. Martin mumbles, pursing his lips.

You hear a small growl from Hoseok and a whine from Jungkook as they push themselves closer to you. “Is he okay?” You ask, a frown settling on your face. “I think he’s fine, a doctor came in shortly after you went down and they sedated him..like we didn’t want to happen, but y’know, hybrids are ‘dangerous’.” Dr. Martin mumbles, mimicking air quotes. “Why are you worried about him? He hurt you.” Hoseok grumbles, rubbing his cheek on your shoulder.

You sigh, “Because someone hurt him like your old owner hurt you both.” You say, leaning your head on Hoseok’s, closing your eyes. Hoseok grumbles something you can’t quite decipher, but before you can ask you feel something wet hit your shoulder. “Hobi?” You ask, carding your hands through his hair with furrowed brows. “I was scared.” He mumbles, turning his head so you can hear him. “I’ll leave you guys alone. Call if you need anything.” Dr. Martin says, smiling at you before leaving your room.

Hoseok and Jungkook practically go limp on top of you, both letting out an exhale of relief. “You were out for a few hours.” Hoseok mumbles, pushing himself closer to you. You frown, you were out for that long? “I’m sorry I worried you both.” You say, hugging the two closer to you. You feel a fourth weight added to the bed, lighter than you, Hoseok and Jungkook. You lift your head to see your furry friend on the bed, looking at the three of you curiously. You smile, “C’mere kitty.” You call. The cat practically rushes forward, curling in a ball on your stomach as deep purrs vibrate in his chest.

“Did you feed him?” You ask, stroking the cat's fur as best as you can. Hoseok nods, petting the cat as well. The cat glares at Hoseok, shuffling away from him on your stomach. You stifle a laugh, pursing your lips making Hoseok glare at you, a large pout on his face. “Sorry, sorry.” You mumble, pulling the best straight face you can manage. “Alright you two, I gotta use the bathroom.” You say, patting Jungkook and Hoseoks backs gently before trying to move them.

Jungkook whines while Hoseok huffs, both pushing closer to you. “Do you want me to pee on you?” You ask. You laugh when both boys shoot off of you, pouting at you nonetheless as they stare at you with their arms crossed. “Sorry.” You mumble, your attention directing to the cat on your stomach. “You too, kitty.” The cat's eyes narrow at your words, his short tail doing a small flick. “Alright, gonna have to do this the hard way.” You mumble, reaching down to pick up the cat before plopping him on the bed beside you.

The cat grumbles before jumping off the bed, waltzing out of the room with a huff making you laugh. “I swear he acts just like a person.” You say, taking the blanket off of you before standing up with a groan. “Haha..yeah..” Jungkook says, awkwardly laughing afterwards while avoiding your eyes. You raise an eyebrow, “Is there something you’re not telling me?” You ask. Jungkook’s wide, panicked eyes meet yours (he’s never been good at hiding how he feels), quickly stuttering out an excuse. “N-no! I was j-just agreeing with you.” He says, quickly averting his eyes again.

“Okay. Spill.” You say, resting your hands on your hips. “There’s nothing to spill.” Jungkook mumbles, scratching his wrist, a tell tale sign he’s lying. “Uh-huh sure.” You say, turning to Hoseok. “Are you going to tell me or am I gonna have to do an interrogation with the two of you?” You ask. Hoseok sighs, “Your cat is a hybrid.” He says, nervously playing with his hands. “And you kept that from me, why?” You ask, genuinely confused why they would keep something so simple from you. “He’s scared of something. We could smell it on him.” Hoseok says, eyebrows drawing together.

“You still should have told me, especially if he’s scared.” You say, your own brows furrowing. “We’re sorry.” Jungkook mumbles, voice wavering slightly. “You don’t have to be sorry.” You say, taking a step toward Jungkook, only for him to take one back. “Jungkook?” You call out softly, taking a step back. His head whips up, eyes wide and full of panic as he stares at you. “I’m-I’m-I’m sorry. I d-didn't mean t-too.” He whimpers before he pinches his eyes shut. You look at Hoseok, taking another step away from Jungkook and sitting on the bed.

Hoseok sighs, sitting on the bed before scooching over to you. “He got most of the beatings from our old owner, I still got my fair share but he had it the worst between us.” Hoseok mumbles with a frown, looking back at Jungkook. “He especially didn’t like when we lied, that’s how we got our worst ‘punishments’.” Hoseok mumbles, looking down at his hands.

You frown, getting up from the bed before walking to Jungkook, pulling him into your arms before he can back away again. He jumps, pushing at you for a moment, but just as you’re about to let go, he wraps his good arm around your waist, sobbing into your shoulder. “‘M sorry.” Jungkook whispers into your shoulder, lightly dragging his cheek across it. “You don’t have to apologize, bun. You did nothing wrong.” You whisper, laying your head on his.

Jungkook only sobs harder at your words, pressing himself closer to you (if it’s even possible). You try to gently pull him back, succeeding fairly quickly. You don’t get a chance to look at his face, however, as he quickly shields it with his long, fluffy ears. “Can you look at me?” You call softly, maneuvering around his ears to cup his face. He shakes his head, a small whimper escaping him in the process.

“I don’t know what that man—that vile creature—made you think whatever you do think up in there,” You gently tap his head “But none of that is true. You’re an amazing person, Jungkook. Hybrid or not. I understand why you didn’t tell me about the cat, he’s scared. You were protecting him. From what? I don’t know. I don’t know if you even know. But you were protecting him.” You say, smiling slightly when his ears move from his face a bit, a single doe eye peeking at you. “I don’t care if that creature said lying is bad. If you’re doing it for the right reason, I wouldn’t say it is. And you were doing it for the right reason.” You say, pulling Jungkook back into your arms.

He exhales deeply, going completely limp against you. You reach up to gently card your fingers through his hair, laying your head on his. “Thank you, Y/n.” He mumbles, a sound akin to a purr rumbling in his chest. You only hum, letting your eyes slide shut as you ignore your bladder’s desperate pleas for you to use the bathroom, deciding to focus on the more important thing right now.

Comforting Jungkook.

Last - Next - Masterlist

Series taglist:

@blancflms @dreamerwasfound @pettyandprettyy @watermelon2319 @yoongistangerine @danielle143 @canarystwin @catlove83 @joonie-tunes @staygirl1986 @singukieee

Permanent taglist:

@viankiss @lizzymizzy-blogg @teddymoon06 @rln-byg

If you are highlighted in bold you could not be tagged! And please lmk if I missed anyone or if you would like to be added <3

#bts #hoseok #jimin #jungkook #namjoon #taehyung #yoongi #jin #bts ot7 #bts x reader #hybrid!bts #safe and sound

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ronsenthal · 4 months

Text

Ron Speirs x Reader

Summary: Nobody really stands alone at Currahee even if you try. Sometimes we try to run away from our thoughts and demons but sometimes they catch us on the race for the better or worse.

A/N: This fic was written on the sole purpose of filling the big void in my heart caused by the showrunners who refused to gives us Ron in Toccoa, it was based on this post ignited by this military AU prompt. Also slightly based on the fact that Speirs used to be a runner for the athletics back when he was a student.

Since he was a kid he loved to run, he ran all the way from school to his home trying to get there as fast as he could because it meant more time to play with his toys and his friends. When he got a bit older he loved to run because it was a relief for his troubled mind, but also because he was so good at it, he was always a competitor and the winning feeling gave him joy and praise it was his runaway.

Life was going fast and there was no way to stop him, in his mind there was a clear path, study, get a job, get a house and so far everything was going in the right direction, but that was until the news about a war came and he had to put a hold on everything he thought was in his path.

It’s been some weeks since he arrived at Camp Toccoa for his basic training, so far the physical requirements were the last of his problems, he even enjoyed the preparations and of course his favourite part was the endless running exercises. He has always been smart, but the endless morning classes studying maps, sand tables, aerial photos were a torture, not because he couldn’t understand it, no! In fact he understood it better than the old officer trying to teach them, and that was the problem, they were too slow and he was a natural born tactician.

One afternoon after a torture session was over he had some spare time on his hands, so he quickly changed into his PT gear and headed towards the mountain he was getting so acquainted. When they said that Currahee means “Stands Alone” he could understand why the natives gave this name to the 1.700 foot tall giant. It was the chance for his mind to go blank for some time.

You wanted to get better, you HAD to do better for you and for all the women who couldn’t yet join the army, this was always on the back of your mind, you embraced every chance to get some extra training. Each company had 5 women to the personnel as part of the government development plans (and propaganda), of course being ever so lucky you got into Easy Company, the same company that had the worst CO in the entire battalion.

Herbert Sobel enjoyed every chance he got to torture and make the whole company miserable, at first you thought it was some personal hatred towards you and the other girls, but turns out he seemed to hate everyone. He pointed out the most ridiculous reasons to make everyone run the goddamn mountain, once he didn’t like the way you tied your hair during a friday night run. After the incident you decided to cut your hair short to prevent any other problems, poor Bull was furious when he saw you that it took Martin, Luz and Christenson to hold him back from trying to strangle Sobel.

One afternoon you decided to try to improve your time running Currahee so you got your mussete bag filled with some fruits you charmed Winters to give to you back in the kitchen and your water canteen. You were finally alone this time which gave you more liberty without feeling watched every step.

After some minutes you saw that there was someone else behind you but didn’t paid any attention as you looked at the watch on your wrist and so far your time was good, so you decided to maintain your focus and keep your good rhythm. The landscape was slowly changing as you was getting closer to the summit of the mountain, suddenly you looked at your left and someone was passing you like a lightning bolt, “oh great another show-off fucker trying to prove that he is better than me” you thought to yourself and muttered a “dickhead” after he was gaining advantage so you pushed yourself harder and harder, but he was so quick you couldn’t catch him.

Some more 15 endless minutes later you arrived to the highest point of Currahee, you once again looked at your watch, a new record!!! You got so proud that instead of running down the other 3 miles you decided to stay and enjoy the landscape down bellow. You chose a nice spot to sit down under some plants that were covering at least a tiny little bit of the sun and decided to take a fruit, but then you saw him.

Being in the army surrounded by some handsome men gave you at least the useful ability to pretend not to stare down a shirtless man, but this one was a completely different story. The dickhead you saw earlier was laying down on the sun just a couple of feets away from you, using his PT shirt under his back as some kind of towel to protect him from the rocks and the gravel underneath.

As the sun was kissing his sweaty pale skin and his dark hair you watched how his toned chest was going up and down in some uneven rhythm, your mind was racing, your heart beating faster and your breath was matching his so you tried to shrug it off telling yourself it was the adrenaline from your effort, wrong again. You watched as his long eyelashes rested so peacefully as his eyes were closed, then once again you tried to change your thoughts and peel the orange on your hand.

You took your knife to split the fruit and when you finally opened it the citric smell filled the air, the man near you slowly opened up his eyes as he was taken from some trance and scanned your face, he took a look at his watch and smiled to himself as he closed his eyes again to which you rolled your eyes. As if reading your mind you heard a hard voice suddenly speaking.

"I'm not judging you, on the contrary, I'm quite surprised you were so quick, I had to push harder to get past you" he said opening just one of his eyes to glance at you.

That took you by surprise, you could feel your cheeks burning after the compliment and you only mumbled some weird thanks.

After an awkward silence he started to get up to sit down, now his dirty shirt was thrown over his left shoulder, you followed his movement as he was so close you could see the freckles in his back. Trying once again to change your focus you reached your canteen to get some water, he glanced at you and gave a soft smile to witch you could only understand as a quiet plead for some water.

"You want some?" you said reaching it for him to take.

"Don't your admirable CO forbid you guys to drink water while running up and down here or something like that?" he asked raising one of his eyebrows in a playful way.

"Sometimes yes but thankfully he is not here" you said trying to hold your laugh.

"He got quite a reputation for himself, poor bastard, couldn't imagine being in his skin" he said giving back your canteen and nodding his head with a silent thank you, his eyes carefully watching you.

"Wait how do you know I'm from Easy Company?" you said suddenly curious after realising that you had not yet introduced yourself.

"Well, you got quite a reputation too, a better one, the toughest girl on the whole battalion" he said with a grin on his face "that and the fact that I saw you running up here with Winters, a girl and a redhead is quite a sight here, you know"

"I'm Y/L/N" you said with a polite little smile.

"Speirs" he said in return as you shook hands .

"Well Speirs, nice to meet you but now I need to return now or I'll be in big trouble" you said shoving your stuff into your bag again and cleaning your hands in your shorts.

"Want to race?" he said suddenly getting up and wearing his shirt, you could swear.

"Winner buys a drink?" you said laughing.

"Smartass" he replied and started to run down the mountain

You tried to keep up with him for the biggest part of the trail and tried your best but before he was fast, he reached the finishing line and then he watched as you finished too.

You both were trying to catch some air and exchanged some looks while sharing friendly smiles.

That night at the bar as you waited while he went to get a couple of beers for you both you couldn't help but smile as you realised that nobody stands alone at Currahee.

When you saw someone running through the streets of Foy and through the enemy lines you heart almost stopped, you knew it was him, you knew nobody could be this fearless and run so fast like Ronald Fucking Speirs.

At this point everybody knew he was at little bit crazy on the head and he got quite a reputation too. The thing is he was almost too crazy for his own good and once again you were the one holding your breath and silently praying for no harm.

When everybody thought he was crazy enough here comes the lunatic running again after passing some info to I Company. You could see the happiness and relief on the faces of your friends, Lipton even got a dumb smile in his face. They were all happy that Easy finally got a good leader again.

As soon as he got his helmet off and sit down to rest you came furious stomping you way towards him.

"You crazy son of a bitch are you out of your goddamn mind?? Fucking stupid dickhead" you said slapping him on the arms and even giving little punches to his chest

Everyone else was sharing a confused look while watching this scene, Ron had no reaction and was somehow also confused looking at you. He let you curse and hit him, he knew why you got to that point.

"Woow woow woow, Y/N, calm down it's okay, look thanks to Lieutenant everything went fine" Lipton said holding you by your shoulders and carefully taking you away from Speirs.

"No you don't understand" you shouted as tears started to roll down your cheeks.

"Yes I do, okay, I might seem dumb but it's not that hard to figure where you were running away to every night since Aldbourne" he said giving you a comforting look you two often shared "Besides, it was so fucking awesome what he did there you must admit" Lipton said giving you a little wink.

You rolled your eyes at your best friend while trying to wipe away the tears. You felt a hand on your back and you turned around to see him but before you could curse him once again you felt his lips gently pressing yours.

For a moment you could swear that even the world stopped spinning around, the only sound you could hear was your own heart pounding on your chest, for a moment you were back at running Currahee, you could even smell some citric scent on the air. His lip were soft, his hands warm just gently squeezing your hips.

After the two of you went for the drink as part of the bet made on the summit of Currahee a friendship began. At first he was just a good friend but then you started to feel things you've never experienced before, it was love. Your first kiss was before making the jump on D-Day, on France you almost lost your head but he was there to help you, at Holland you almost lost him and thought you would never see those eyes again, on Bastogne you survived the freezing temperatures and used every opportunity to use his scarf to cover your face with the excuse of hiding from the cold when you were sick. He was always there, for you.

When he parted the kiss the smell of metal, gunpowder and dirty came all back like a punch, you looked at him once again and all your anger was gone, he was okay and so were you.

"Dickhead" was everything you said before he gently kissed your forehead, adjusted the M-1 on his shoulder and started to run between the line barking orders to the men.

Taglist: @mads-weasley, @footprintsinthesxnd, @sweetxvanixlla, @xxluckystrike, @malarkgirlypop, @lostloveletters, @next-autopsy, @ewipandora, @executethyself35, @easycompany123, @whollyjoly and @basilone

#ronald speirs #ron speirs #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fic #ronald speirs x reader #mw*#mf*

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 7 months

Text

More Than This // Chad Meeks Martin x Reader x Ethan Landry*

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: ethan landry is completely and totally hopelessly in love with you. the only problem? you're in a happy relationship with his roommate and best friend, chad.

warnings: language, a shit ton of angst, crying, smut, a wee bit of voyerism, masturbating (m), cumming in pants, yelling, ethan having impure thoughts about reader

word count: 3.1k

a/n: reader is referred to as girlfriend, but there's nothing specifically mentioned about gender other than that. no description of reader, other than being mentioned as shorter than chad. chad and reader are dating. there isn't any relationship going on between reader and ethan. no ghostface au. also this is my first time writing smut in a while so i hope it's alright!

part 2 part 3

I'm broken, do you hear me?

I'm blinded, 'cause you are everything I see

I'm dancing alone, I'm praying

That your heart will just turn around

Ethan frowned as he looked over at you and Chad. The two of you were dancing together with your matching cowboy and cow onesie costumes, and you couldn’t have looked happier. Your arms were wrapped around Chad’s neck and his hands were placed on your waist. Ethan watched as Chad whispered something to you that made you giggle, and he felt his heart ache. He wanted to be the one you danced with, the one to hold you close, the one who would make you laugh.

But you were dating his roommate. And Chad was Ethan’s best friend, he’d never want to hurt him, but all Ethan could think about was you. He could never escape you. Even if he wasn’t thinking about you, you were still there. You and Chad went almost everywhere together, and you were always over at their dorm. Just constantly seeing you and Chad being happy together made Ethan’s pain that much worse.

And as I walk up to your door

My head turns to face the floor

'Cause I can't look you in the eyes and say

Ethan stared at the text he had written to you, his finger hovering over the send button. He kept writing the same message over and over, pouring out his feelings to you, but he could never bring himself to send them. He was too scared. He knew there was no way that you could possibly return his feelings, and telling you how he felt would only set him up for more heartbreak. You were with Chad, and you were happy. Who was Ethan to get in the way of that?

And besides, he couldn’t do that to Chad. Sometimes Ethan felt that Chad was the only friend he had, he didn’t want to risk losing him over his stupid infatuation with you. Ethan sighed, deleting the text and shutting his phone. He huffed, leaning back against the pillows on his bed, deciding to wallow in self pity instead of fucking everything up by confessing.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight

It just won't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

Ethan heard the door to his dorm open and shut, giggling and whispers following the noise. Great. You and Chad were back from your date. It was nights like these that Ethan couldn’t be more grateful that his dorm had separate bedrooms. At least he wasn’t forced to see you and Chad being all lovey dovey, that would just feel like the two of them rubbing salt in his never healing wound.

The door to Chad’s bedroom was flung open, and Ethan heard you laugh again. He smiled slightly to himself, the beautiful noise cheering him up a bit. But that newfound happiness was short lived, because he knew what came next. Walking over to his desk, Ethan searched for his noise canceling headphones, but they were nowhere to be found. He cursed to himself when he remembered he had lent them to Anika so she could focus better while trying to study. Just great. Now he had nothing to block out the sounds of you and Chad. This was going to be a long night.

When he lays you down, I might just die inside

It just don't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this

Can love you more than this

Ethan laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, willing himself to fall asleep. Unfortunately, he was still wide awake. He didn’t even know how long it’s been, but you and Chad were still going at it like rabbits. Chad’s headboard continually slammed against the wall, the banging ruining any chance Ethan had of sleeping. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part about Ethan’s current situation was you.

The walls in their dorm were incredibly thin, allowing for sounds to be heard from the other side easily. Ethan could hear you moaning out Chad’s name over and over again, along with your other whines and whimpers. It was all Ethan could focus on. You sounded so… hot. Usually he had his noise canceling headphones on, blocking out all the sounds you and Chad make. But now that he could hear you, he regretted ever using those stupid headphones in the first place.

Before he could even realize what was happening, Ethan was hard. He whimpered softly as he felt his throbbing erection continue to grow each time you moaned. He felt guilty about feeling like this, especially since you were currently fucking his best friend, but his overwhelming need made his guilt almost disappear.

He pulled the blankets off of him, and brought his hand down to his hard on, grinding his palm against it. He whimpered in relief at the feeling, speeding up his movements, practically humping his hand. Was he really doing this? Getting off to his best friend’s girlfriend’s moans? He felt dirty. Perverted. But somehow, that made this all the more exciting.

Ethan continued, grinding his palm down against his clothed cock, while his hips bucked up in tandem. He closed his eyes, imagining that you were the one touching him, and that he was the one getting you to make those incredible noises. Ethan bit his lip, struggling to hold in his moans. He was getting closer and closer. Then, he heard you through the wall.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck, m’ cumming! Fuck…” you trailed off into a high pitched whine.

Ethan opened his eyes when he felt a growing wet spot on his hand. He looked down and saw that he just came in his pants from hearing you finish. Great. Just great. He was supposed to be getting over you. And this was definitely not helping.

If I'm louder, would you see me?

Would you lay down in my arms and rescue me?

'Cause we are the same, you save me

But when you leave, it's gone again

“Hey Ethan!” you said cheerily, sitting down next to him in the cafeteria.

“Hey…” he mumbled, his face flushing red as he looked away from you, the memories of what he had done last night still present in his mind.

You scrunched your face up in confusion when you saw how red Ethan looked. You immediately placed the back of your hand on his forehead, concern present on your face.

“Are you feeling alright? You look really red,” you asked, gently touching his forehead and cheeks to see if he had a fever.

Ethan felt himself blush even harder, the feeling of your hand on his face making his skin tingle and his head spin. He quickly shook his head and pulled away slightly, not wanting to develop another situation because of you.

“No, I’m- I’m fine. Maybe just a little sunburnt is all.”

You pouted. “You really should wear sunscreen, Ethan. It’s not healthy if you don’t.”

Ethan nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ethan was about to say something else, when Chad approached and sat down next to you, instantly taking your attention away from him. You smiled widely at Chad, pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek.

“Hi baby! I missed you,” you said, a lovestruck look in your eyes.

Chad smiled back, looking equally infatuated with you. “I missed you too babe.”

Ethan grumbled to himself, the display of affection the two of you shared only making him long for you even more.

And then I see you on the street

In his arms, I get weak

My body fails, I'm on my knees, praying

It was movie night and Sam and Tara’s place, a weekly tradition that Mindy forcefully makes everyone participate in. Ethan sat by himself in a chair next to the couch, while you and Chad were curled up together in the loveseat across from him. Everyone else had piled onto the couch, or the floor in front of it. Mindy grabbed the remote and excitedly started some horror movie that she’s been adamant about making everyone watch. But Ethan could barely bring himself to pay attention.

He kept his gaze on you and Chad, squished close together as Chad buried his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close and trying to comfort him from the scary images on the screen. Despite how scared your boyfriend was, you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked, your six foot tall boyfriend clinging to his much smaller girlfriend for protection.

Ethan tried to watch the movie, he really did, but all he could think about was how badly he wished it was him that you were holding instead of Chad. No matter what he did, Ethan couldn’t get over you. He had almost given up on trying at this point. He was hopelessly in love with you. And he would just have to deal with that.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight

It just won't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

The movie finally ended, and Ethan managed to force himself to pay attention to the second half of the movie. He was definitely confused about the plot, and had absolutely no idea what happened, but at least he stopped staring at you and Chad like some creep.

“Aw, guys look!” Anika said, pointing to the loveseat you and Chad were on.

The two of you had fallen asleep, Chad curled up in your arms. The sight of you and Chad sleeping together so peacefully, so happily, it just made the heartache and longing he felt for you that much worse. Because he knew he would never get to be with you like that. He would never get to be the one to fall asleep in your arms, the one you protected from scary movies, the one you held close. No matter how badly he wished and prayed to be yours, he knew that it would never happen.

Sam stood up from the couch and grabbed a blanket, placing it over you and Chad. She smiled down at the two of you warmly, the sight just so incredibly adorable.

“They’re so cute together,” she said, smiling to herself as she walked back to the couch.

“I know!” Tara added, swooning over how perfect you and Chad looked together. “It’s like they were meant to be.”

When he lays you down, I might just die inside

It just don't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this

Ethan couldn’t take it anymore, seeing you and Chad sleeping in each others’ arms, hearing all his friends fawn over how cute you and Chad were. It was all too much. He felt his heart shatter and his eyes welled up with tears. He blinked forcefully, trying to stop them from falling.

Ethan stood up, starting to head towards the door. “I think I’m gonna head back to my dorm for the night. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Anika frowned. “You’re not staying? I thought we were all sleeping over here tonight?”

“Yeah, you always stay. What’s going on?” Mindy added.

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like it tonight.”

Quinn furrowed her brows in confusion. “It doesn’t seem like nothing. Is something bothering you?”

Ethan huffed in frustration. “Nothing’s bothering me. Just drop it.”

Before anyone could respond, he was already out the door.

I've never had the words to say

But now I'm asking you to stay

For a little while inside my arms

“Hey, man. Where were you last night? Mindy said you left early and that you seemed all upset about something,” Chad said, sitting down in the desk next to Ethan.

Ethan shook his head. “She’s overreacting. Nothing’s bothering me. I… I just had this paper to work on last night that I forgot about. That’s it,” Ethan replied, hoping his excuse didn’t sound as shitty as he thought it did.

Chad looked skeptical but brushed it off. “Alright. Well, hope you got it done in time then.”

“Thanks,” Ethan said, a forced smile on his face.

Chad looked like he wanted to say something else, but their professor walked in and began talking, gaining Ethan’s attention. Chad wanted to press for more, he felt like there was something Ethan wasn’t telling him. But now probably wouldn’t be the best time, especially since he seemed so tense about whatever it was. Maybe he could get you to ask Ethan about it later. Ethan always seemed so much calmer when you were around.

And as you close your eyes tonight

I pray that you will see the light

That's shining from the stars above

And I say

“Ethan! Hey, wait up!” you shouted, running to catch up to Ethan who was on the other side of the quad.

Ethan’s head perked up when he heard your voice, and he stopped walking, waiting for you to reach him. A few moments later, you stood by Ethan’s side, your hands on your knees and you panted from your jog over. You held up a finger to Ethan, asking him to give you a minute as you caught your breath.

“You alright?” Ethan asked, a smile growing on his face.

You nodded, slowly beginning to breathe normally. “Yep. Just wasn’t prepared to run that much. I’m- I’m fine.” You finally managed to calm your breathing, and smiled at Ethan to prove you were really okay.

“So, why’d you just sprint across the quad? Did you miss me that much, or did you need something?” Ethan asked, laughing to himself slightly.

“Uhm, yeah actually. I needed to talk to you. It’s about last night.”

Ethan’s smile faltered. “What about it?”

“Chad wanted me to ask you about what happened. He told me that you said you forgot about a paper, but I know that’s not true. You’re too insanely organized to forget an assignment. So, what happened? Why’d you bail?”

Ethan shook his head, turning to walk away. “I’m not talking about this right now.”

You huffed and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. “Ethan, I’m worried about you. We all are. Just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I can’t!” Ethan said, his voice slightly louder.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight

It just won't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

‘Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

“Why not? I’m here for you Ethan, we all are. Just let me in. I want to help you.”

Ethan turned his head and looked at the ground, not wanting to look into your eyes. If he looked into your eyes right now, he knew his resolve would crumble, and all of the feelings that he’d been holding back would all come spilling out.

“I can’t tell you. You wouldn’t get it. You can’t help me,” Ethan said, his voice growing quieter as he felt your gaze stay trained on him.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, trying to make him look at you again. What was once just a minor concern about whatever happened at the sleepover now grew into a full blown panic. You had never seen Ethan like this. So small, so fragile. He had seemed so put together, having everything under control. But seeing him like this, you couldn’t help but feel your heart break. He looked so sad. So scared. And you hated it.

“Try me. Please. Let me in. Whatever you’re dealing with, you can’t do it on your own. Don’t push me away. I know we aren’t the closest, but I do consider you a friend. And I care about you. So please, just tell me what’s wrong. Don’t let yourself suffer by trying to deal with it all on your own.”

When he lays you down, I might just die inside

It just don't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

“Fine, you want me to tell you?” Ethan said, finally looking into your eyes.

You nodded. “I really want you to.”

Ethan huffed, rubbing his eyes with his fists in frustration. “I- I want to tell you. I really do. But if I say this, I can’t take it back. I don’t want to ruin everything. I don’t want to lose you.”

You frowned, stepping closer to him. “You won’t ruin anything. Just please, tell me. Let me in, Ethan.”

“I’m in love with you, okay?!” Ethan shouted, squeezing his eyes shut, terrified of how you would react.

“What…?” you asked, your eyes wide in shock.

“I’ve loved you since the day I first met you. Which sucks, because you’re with Chad, and I know you don’t feel the same. But I’ve been suffering every single time I see you with him. I wish that was me. I want to be the one that you love. I want to be the one you’re with. And I know it’s wrong, I know I can never have you like that. But- I- I just-,” Ethan trails off, his rambling cut off by his own panic.

And then Ethan does the unthinkable. He kisses you.

When he opens his arms and holds you close tonight

It just won't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this, yeah

Once he realized what he had done, he pulled away. He was too panicked to realize that you had kissed back. You looked up at Ethan, your eyes wide in shock and confusion. You had no idea what you were feeling, emotions swirling and exploding inside of you. But Ethan interpreted your expression as disgust and hate. He looked at you guiltily, slowly backing away.

“I’m sorry. I- I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I- I’m so sorry,” Ethan said, his eyes wide as he took another step backwards.

“Ethan…” you said, your expression softening when you saw how terrified he looked.

“No- I- I shouldn’t have…” Ethan said, turning around and running off, not wanting to have to face you another second.

“Ethan, wait! Ethan…” you called after him, but he didn’t turn around.

“Wait…” you said softly, trailing off when he finally faded from view.

When he lays you down, I might just die inside

It just don't feel right

'Cause I can love you more than this

Can love you more than this

tags: @wenvierismycomfort

if your name is crossed off, it means i can't tag you!

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f1haaland · 1 year

Note

Hey babes, can I ask for something fluffy with a little angst perhaps with fernando? I loved your Instagram au with him 😩

𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 / 𝑭𝑨𝟏𝟒

pairing: fernando alonso x verstappen!reader

summary: fighting for the drivers championship has been the most challenging thing to ever happen in your career, especially when your #1 enemy is your own brother. fortunately, fernando is there to lend you a helping hand.

author's note: this got longer than I expected.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: teammate!reader, friends to lovers, mentions of cars crashing, family issues, slight daddy issues (no mention to j*s), max being a dick, google translated dutch, suggestive description but no actual sexual stuff, significant age gap (reader is 28, fernando is 41), probably more warnings but I don't know what else to put here.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators!! 🫶🏽

➜ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚 𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ༓  ༓ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

Media used to say you and your brother got your passion for racing from your parents. The fans used to say you got the beauty from your mother, and Max got the anger issues from your father. That could be true, but you inherited the anger issues as well.

Even though you were older than him, Max always came first. He got into karting before you, he got into Formula before you, and he became world champion before you. Male privilege, perhaps? Yeah, but when you are born female and you were raised to be a racing driver, you need to be better than every male on the grid. Even if that means competing against your own family.

And Max never had a problem with that. He crushed you every chance he had. Every track you both raced on, from karting to Formula 1, you'd see him in your rearview mirror, and then in front of you, finishing first. Until he wasn't there anymore, and would leave the champion title for you to take.

Two years after he made it to Red Bull from Toro Rosso, you finally got to Formula 1. In your rookie year, at Renault, you made your first friend on the grid. You and Daniel had excellent chemistry, and he gave you such help that you never got from Max. That was until he signed to McLaren and left you all alone.

Not long after, you signed with Williams, and beside Alex, you made great results. You scored great points, but you still wanted the podium. You wanted to stand there and raise a trophy. You wanted a taste of the glory.

And two years later, you drove alongside Sebastian Vettel, when you signed to Aston Martin. After Mercedes' fall from grace, it was a really good year for your team. You finally got your first podium. And you tasted it, the glory. You stood there and raised the trophy. That's when you got greedy and wanted more.

Things only seemed to get better when Sebastian announced his retirement, and Fernando Alonso became your new teammate. The team got you a new car even better than last year's. Your trophy collection became bigger after every race. And you were finally, after so many years, racing against your brother for the drivers championship.

Fernando was the best teammate you could have asked for. He was not only a good friend but an emotional support as well. He helped you through your anger crisis and often would take you to ease your head away from the tracks.

Even though he was competing against you too, it never seemed like it. He often said he already had his wins, and he was there to help you have yours. Fernando was racing because he loved to do so, great results were just the consequences of being a fantastic driver.

You were two points behind Max, and knowing that a single little mistake could cost you the championship, it wasn't needed much to trigger your anger issues.

After staying out of Q3 because you crashed into your brother's car, you left your car and tossed your helmet on the floor. You groaned loudly, processing what had happened;

Max crashed into me.

In the middle of a corner, Max crashed into me.

On. Fucking. Purpose.

When you started walking away from your garage and going straight to Red Bull's, Fernando, who had dnfed after engine problems, came towards you.

"Y/n!" He tried to call your attention, as the cameras started to follow you, "Y/n don't do this!"

"Hey, klootzak!" You shouted out loud as you reached the Red Bull garage and your eyes met Max's. (Hey, asshole!)

As the cameras — and Fernando — came right behind you, every eye on the pits was on you. Your teammate held you by the waist, stopping your movements.

"Y/n, don't do this. You're going to get penalized. Please..." He muttered into your ear, making you shiver.

You stared at Fernando as he frowned, silently begging for you to stop. You wanted to listen to him so badly... but then you remembered why you were there.

The championship. The crash. Max.

Your gaze became darker as you turned to your brother, "He should be the one to get penalized!" you yelled.

Switching to dutch, you spat, giving more steps towards him, "Je deed het expres, nietwaar, Max? Verdomde klootzak!" (You did it on purpose, didn't you, Max? Fucking bastard!)

Max tilted his head to the side, smirking. You clenched your fist, ready to do something you would regret.

"Waarom geef je mij de schuld? Leer autorijden, idioot." Max teased, looking down at you being face-to-face with him. (Why are you blaming me? Learn to drive, idiot.)

You pushed him as hard as you could, neverminding the cameras shoved on your face. Max fell onto the ground.

Fernando held tight to your waist this time, as Christian and Daniel got in between you and your brother.

Hours after your meltdown, you received the news of your penalty; Tomorrow, you would be starting off from the pits, while Max would be starting at the back place of the grid.

"Starting off the pits is so much worse than P19. That's unfair." You mumbled, still pissed off with everything that happened.

Fernando snorted. Fortunately, he was there to help you ease your mind. You both were at your place in São Paulo, waiting for your Chinese takeout while pretending to watch a tv show.

You scrolled through your Twitter page, reading the fans reactions to your meltdown. Max had his moments before, but this was your first time getting caught on camera during one of your anger episodes.

And most of the things you read online didn't help with the situation. Weird men were calling you hysterical, some people were excited to see how good this would look on Drive to Survive, and some fans were... shipping you with Fernando?

You frowned, deciding to watch one of many videos where you attacked your brother. From different angles, you saw the way Fernando held onto your waist. Unintentionally, you remembered how he begged, so close to your ear, for you to stop. How it sent shivers down your spine.

And just now, you noticed how close you were to him in your personal life. It has been such a crazy year for you, you never realized you and Fernando were more than a just friendship. He was by your side at every single moment. He often took you out to dinner, you would invite each other to your houses in Monaco. Sometimes he would take you to his place in Spain.

And you listen to him. Most of the time at least, you thought. But the thing is, you usually don't listen to anyone but yourself. No one is right but you. You don't have anyone to trust but you. But that's not true, as he's there proving you wrong. You just never realized, until now.

"Nando, I–" You started, but the sound of your doorbell got in your way.

"It's our food. Let me get it." He patted your thigh, before standing up to answer the door.

After your realization, even his touch felt different. Your whole perspective of him changed. You liked it. It felt different, but also it felt normal, like it was simply meant to be. Like the things you did with each other, the things you shared, things that mostly only couples used to do, it fitted your relationship — if you could call it that way.

You both ate your noodles and watched the tv show, quietly. Your head lay comfortably in his lap as Fernando's fingertips danced around your scalp. You sighed, comfortable in the position you found yourself in. It felt too domestic. You could close your eyes and sleep right there, because you trusted him enough to do so. You trusted him more than anyone.

"What is this?" You asked.

"What is what, cariño?" Fernando murmured, still caressing your head but focused on the tv.

You lifted your upper body from his embrace and sat by his side.

"This." You gestured towards him and yourself, "Us. This is not normal, Fernando. It feels like we're a couple, without the whole things that make a couple... a couple."

"It... does, doesn't it? I came to that realization a while ago." he confessed, "Turns out I like what we have. I never said anything because I didn't want it to end. I thought it would bother you."

"It doesn't. I like what we have. Fuck, I love what we have! I love the way you come to my place, mostly unannounced, and eat all the stroopwafels my mum sends to me. I love the way you invite me to Spain every free week we're not racing. I love the way you listen to me and help me understand my anger, and work through it. I love that I know I wouldn't win half the races I did this season without your help." You blurted out so fast you didn't quite process your own words.

"Fuck, I love this. I love what we have. I love having you around. Fernando, I–"

"I love you." he said, finishing your sentence, "I truly do. I can't describe my feelings the way you did but just know I feel the very same for you."

You smiled, stunned. Your breath echoed to your ear, competing with your heartbeat to see which is the loudest.

You raised your hand to meet his face, where your digits laid gently on his skin. Fernando's eyes closed to your comforting touch. You got closer until his warm breath reached you. His soft lips brushed against yours.

"I love you." You whispered, before losing yourself in his arms and his touch.

The following morning, you woke up alone. You were used to that feeling, but that was you before Fernando. Now, there was you after him. You felt brand new.

So you didn't hide your disappointment when you reached for the side of the bed where he was supposed to be, and found it to be empty. Not only it was cold, but he made it before he left your room. To your surprise, when you got out of bed, you noticed his shirt was still on your floor from last night. You didn't hold back a large smile.

That it quickly disappeared the moment you remembered what day it was: Sunday.

You grabbed your phone to look at the time. You still had a few hours before heading to Interlagos.

You left your room, and as you were walking downstairs, you could hear soft humming and music echoing through the house. The scent of fresh coffee didn't go unnoticed by you.

When you reached the kitchen, you found a shirtless Fernando, scrambling eggs in a pan, and singing to a spanish song. A huge smile emerged in his features when he noticed your presence.

"Buenos días, corazón" He pecked your lips when you got closer.

"Goedemorgen, schat..." You grinned, hugging his waist from behind.

"Go sit. I'm making us something to eat before we hit the paddock." Fernando pecked you one more time before you went to sit by the kitchen island.

"Ah, yes, the race..." you rolled your eyes, "Can't wait to start from the pits."

"It's not so bad... I've won a race where I started from the back of the grid..." He shrugged.

"Really? Singapore 2008? If you want to go there, I have a lot of things to say about that race" You cocked a challenging eyebrow.

The spaniard snickered, "Yeah, I know. What I'm trying to say is that it's possible."

"You were the only person to do so, Fernando. It's not possible. And for you, it's easy to say that. You're on pole!" You chuckled.

"We have a great car, you're an awesome driver, and it looks like it's not going to rain today. Maybe the odds are on your side." He tried to cheer you up.

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes in disbelief, "Yeah, with Max having such an advantage, there's not much to believe in the odds." you smiled, and grabbed his hand across the island table, "But I appreciate your confidence in me. I know you're not a very optimistic person. It's really cute..."

"Eat your eggs, Y/n. You'll need extra energy for today." He dismissed the subject when you mentioned his softness.

The paddock wasn't a huge place. So when gossip flew around and the people talked, eventually it would reach to you one way or another. And you couldn't care less about it. It didn't stop you from driving Fernando to the track on your convertible Aston Martin, even if the photographers caught the moment you left the parking lot with him. It didn't stop Fernando from reaching out for your hand and hold it in front of everyone while you walked down the paddock together, even if the Netflix cameras were there. Different journalists from all around the world were talking about you in their language. No one was talking about yesterday's crash or your angry meltdown. Just you and Fernando.

Fortunately, no one had asked. Yet. You were preparing yourself for the race, and no one was allowed to take your focus away from it.

You were watching the pre-race program from the garage. Unsurprisingly, your father was at the race to prestige Max. Well, that's not true. He was there for the prestige of having a world-champion son, but not to prestige him.

He never came to your garage. Not once.

You and Fernando parted ways to prepare for the race. You didn't see him again until it was time for him to go to his car, and you stayed at the pits, where you'd be starting.

When the lights when out and the starting grid became a mess as the cars tried to overtake one another, Max overtook three cars in front of him, taking place at P16. Fernando started amazing on pole, leading the race, with only Checo and one of the Ferrari's close behind him.

As the laps went by, you overtook car by car, climbing your way to the points. At lap 34, you overtook both Mercedes in an incredible move.

Fernando was still leading the race, Max was P4, and you had just reached the sixth position. As if a miracle could've happened, the Ferrari in front of you started to slow down. One of its tires had exploded. You recognized the driver's helmet, and couldn't help to feel kinda bad for Charles.

The cars behind you were 20 seconds away, so you made use of that advantage and pitted for new tires.

Max's position was ahead of you, but he was still far away. He watched as Checo and Carlos, who were currently P2 and P3, fight for position. Unfortunately, in a tight corner, they crashed each other. It was nothing serious, so the physical safety car came in, and everyone went to the boxes to get new tires. Except for you, who had just got new ones.

Unintentionally, you became P1.

When the safety car left the track, Fernando and Max were behind you, respectively.

There were two more laps to go, and you could feel your sweaty hands squeezing tight on the steering wheel as the nervousness started to rise in your chest. You tried not to focus on what was happening behind you, and pay attention to the way ahead. Fernando tried his hardest to keep Max behind him until he couldn't hold it anymore. Max overtook him on the last lap, where he was only 1 second behind you.

You wouldn't let him take the win away from you. Not anymore.

And then it happened.

"Y/n Verstappen, you are the champion of the world!" Your engineer yelled.

And you couldn't believe your ears.

You. World champion.

You became a world champion.

You parked your car on the 1th place marked spot, but you didn't get out. You couldn't. You tried to process everything that happened, the climbing, the moves, the safety car, the checkered flag... it felt surreal.

Someone pulled you out of the car, bringing you back to reality. You didn't have to look at the green suit, same as yours, to realize who it was. Fernando's presence always reached out to you before the sight of him.

He hugged you, as tight as he could, lifting you from the ground and swaying. His voice was muffled by his helmet, but you didn't have to know what he was saying, you just felt it. You felt loved.

He placed you on the ground and you took off your helmet, as he did the same. You glanced at each other and you saw the pride in his brown orbits. You smiled, sobbing with the feeling of happiness. He took you in his arms once again, and kissed you, deeply and lovingly in front of everyone to see.

Your intimate moment was interrupted once the cameras and the journalists reached you.

"Y/n! Congratulations on winning the championship!" The reporter exclaimed, "How does it feel to be world champion?"

You chuckled, still being held on the waist by Fernando.

"It feels fucking fantastic! I couldn't have done this without our amazing team." You smiled, biting your lip to stare at Fernando, "And my boyfriend, who has been looking out for me ever since the start of this season. He has been not only my teammate, but also my therapist, my cook, and my best friend. He is everything I needed. Thank you, Fernando..." You kissed him one more time in front of the cameras.

#fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x yn #fernando alonso imagines #f1 x you #f1 x female driver #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x female driver #formula 1 x you #max verstappen x reader

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rookfeatherrambles · 3 months

Text

What if there was an au where Jon is an undergrad looking to write a dissertation to get a PhD and in order to get that, he agreed to research the ecosystem on a remote and tiny island somewhere off the coast of the UK for a mysterious benefactor named Simon Fairchild? What if he was fine with the isolation, preferring it to being around people, and did his due diligence recording everything from how many eggs were in the nests of the birds on the cliffs to how much garbage washed up on shore. What if he started growing feathers himself, waking up sick every morning. Unable to eat food. Slowly, painfully turning into a bird that throws up plastic and shards of bone. What if Simon Fairchild put him there for a bet? Would that be wild? What if the son of the other person involved in the bet, Peter Lukas, overheard them both talking about the poor bastard they dumped on an island for the world's shittiest Eldritch tug of war, just to see what happens? What if Martin gets it into his head to rescue Jon and hijacks the supply boat they've been sending to the island to keep Jon alive and well stocked for his work. What if Jon has wings now and is very sick. What if Martin absolutely wrecks the boat because he has no idea how to steer and dock it, and Jon rescues him. What if Martin's first words upon waking up in Jon's bed are 'I came to save you'. What if Jon doesn't want to be saved. What if they fell in love. What if they slept together in the same bed and bound Jon's wings so he couldn't fly away and eat weird shit. What if it was domestic but they both know they've been abandoned on the island to die, because whatever Jon is becoming is too dangerous to let live. What if Martin tells Jon he can eat him, if he wants to one day when he's had enough. What if Jon tells Martin that afterwards, he'll just fling himself off the cliff. What if they kiss and spend one final day together? Would that be fucked up or what?

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #tma au #tw: character death #peter lukas #simon fairchild

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inklore · 7 months

Text

dark red

premise: If your body hadn’t been liquifying in his hands with each curl of his fingers, with his filthy words against your skin, maybe you would have seen the warning signs.

pairing: chad meeks-martin x (f)reader

word count: 870

contents: unprotected piv, blood, chad being the killer au, dirty talk.

note: sorry this man is just scrumptious looking i needed an au where he was the villain for half a second, you know my thirst reaches no bounds lmao.

haunted hoedown day six.

His fingers had been wet when they touched your face.

Your cheeks feeling cool when his hands left them to hold the sides of your neck as he kissed you. Pushing your back against the nearest tree and murmuring against your lips about how badly he’s wanted this. How perfect you felt underneath his hands as they moved along the curvature of your body.

Up your shirt to cup your breast, and down your pants to run along your soaked underwear. His teeth and tongue bruising your lips with how hard his mouth connects with yours—with how hard he bites and sucks at the skin on your neck, your nipples when he’s moved your shirt and bra enough to give his mouth access to the prickling flesh.

His mouth works against you, like he’s savoring you. Like he’s spent days, weeks, months thinking about it, and he’s not going to let anyone or anything stop him from enjoying you. Your taste, your moans, your whimpers that he coaxes from you.

He’s tentative and knowing, like he’s studied your body, when really this is the first time you’ve let him touch you.

It hadn’t been the first time you'd thought about it. Wondered if it should happen.

The two of you playing a constant what if? Or should we? Game for the last year and a half.

And if any night was to be a perfect one, doing it now was as good a time as any—in theory.

Logically, the two of you should go back to the house and find an empty room. Claim it before one of the others do.

Your mind registers that you can no longer hear the thumping of the music coming from the house, just as Chad slipped his fingers inside of you. Making your body arch into him, your hips thrusting against his hand.

“That’s it,” bit against your neck.

If your body hadn’t been liquifying in his hands with each curl of his fingers, with his mouth on you, with his filthy words and encouragement—with the way you only trudged yourself in through the woods at the back of the house because you heard someone calling out for help—you would have realized something was wrong.

But instead, a familiar voice had you stupidly stepping through the brush and into the dark woods, your phone flashlight being the only thing illuminating your path.

A light that gets dropped when Chad comes up behind you. A scream came from your gut and through the quiet night air, making him clasp a hand over your mouth before the both of you were laughing. Because it had only been him. Chad.

Nothing scary. No monster.

No killer.

You slapped him in the arm for luring you in here—or you assumed he was the one who did it; he doesn’t deny it. Only smiles in that way that shows his dimples and makes your stomach flutter.

There had been no warning signs you could catch, no red flags to grasp onto.

Not when he’s making you come on his fingers.

Or when he turns you so your cheek is pressed into the bark of the tree, your skirt pushed up, wet underwear pulled to the side, and he’s slipping inside of you. A sting of pleasure makes you gasp at the size of him stretching you out. Your fingers digging into the dirt stained bark.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Grunted into your shoulder as he fucks you. As his hips thrust into you at a hard pace, giving your body little time to accommodate his size. Your nerves are buzzing from how good he feels. How your body becomes limp against the tree, your legs shaking, when the tip of his cock hits that part inside of you that makes you cry out—in pain or pleasure, you’re not sure. It all feels the same. It all makes you moan out his name and ask for more.

His fingers finding your clit and rubbing circles against it until you’re coming around his cock, and he’s pulling out to come against your ass. His forehead pressed to the back of your head, your name tumbling from his panting mouth.

A blissful smile on your face as the two of you righted yourself, Chad pulling you into his arms to press a soft kiss against your lips.

“Let’s get back to the house; I want to show you something.” His smile warms your heart.

A warmth that runs cold once you find your phone in the brush and notice the red on your hands. Confusion pulling your brows together as you search yourself for the source—the back of your hand swiping against your cheek—the bark possibly nicking your skin from the harsh movements of your body—the skin coming back red.

Your frown turns into a look of terror when you look over at Chad.

The front of his shirt splattered with red. Dried blood marring his hands, the same way it’s in sploshes on his cheek and chin.

A deep sigh heaving from his chest, “don’t scream.” The corner of his mouth pulls into a lopsided grin, a hand slipping in his back pocket to pull out a knife. “Please.”

#chad meeks x reader #chad meeks martin x reader #scream smut #chad meeks imagine #chad meeks smut #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks x you #chad meeks martin imagine #scream imagine #haunted hoedown

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just-an-enby-lemon · 2 months

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TMAGP High School AU except is more like one of thoses fics where Somewhere Else means Jon becames a teacher. So we have eldrish-ish Jon out in a world his powers are mostly controled trying to mimick a normal life with Martin except he has just the most eldrish prone kids and it's trying to protect them (except when the Eye wins the job of influenciating him into supporting his students getting close to it).

His students of course are Samama Khalid that had a previous experience with this world version of the Magnus Institute and no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. He sees spooky, mysterious things and goes "let's investigate it" and involves other students into it. He constantly ignores Jon help, but in the way where he is soo polite and nice about it he sometimes is abble to learn more about Jon's own spokkiness (sometimes he does it on purpose because as times goes more Sam is sure his new teacher is the key to the misteries around him and sometimes just because Jon isn't used to casual niceness and Sam is lovely).

Alice Dyer, described as a lovely problem student by both principal Lena and most of the teachers body (also by Martin because she is a frequent visitor in the cities library) , she for some god forsaken reason insists on calling Jon "Chester" ("you just looks waay more like a Chester than a Mr. Sims"). She mostly follows Sam in his advetures and definitivaly had some connection to an entity before but also she is Jon's biggest ally because she is always trying to make them stop (she also calls Martin "Norris" for no reason).

Gwendolyn Bouchard, first poblem being her last name sort off gives Jon trauma indulced anxiety, second is that she actually reminds Jon more of himself at his early days on the archives than Elias and she made her mission to be the teacher's pet and have him like her (and support her into becaming the leader of the student concil and class president).

Colin Becher who had at least one supernatural encounter with an evil computer program but likely more computer related trauma that just made him even more into computers but also to angry insult circuit boards. Jon is certain he got the Ushenka video at least once. Colin dislikes Jon a lot, a lot, and also told Jon that he does not need a english teacher that doesn't even know what a logic gate is. He also likely can notice the supernatural on Jon and he does not like it.

And Celia Ripley that got in after Jon, has a familiar-ish name and more important seems to know more than she should about the Entities and the world Jon came from, he is half sure she called him Archivist once and she asked about tape recorders. Very suspicious.

#tma au #tmagp au #tma #tmagp #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #celia ripley #colin becher #gwendolyn bouchard #samama khalid #alice dyer

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hezikas · 1 year

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You Are The Right One | Chapter 1

Dad!Aegon II Targaryen x Nanny!Reader (modern au)

Summary: Following a devastating event involving his ex-girlfriend, Aegon is now a full-time single father to his daughter. However, with a jam-packed schedule due to his ongoing tour, he's struggling to balance his parenting duties with his high-profile career as a musician. To ease the burden, Aegon heeds his sister Helaena's advice and hires a stay-in nanny. But what he doesn't realize is that this decision will have unexpected consequences that will turn his life on its head.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen/Reader

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of any characters from House of the Dragon, as they are the intellectual property of George R.R. Martin. Furthermore, I must acknowledge that this story is heavily influenced by the book 'The Nanny' written by Lana Ferguson.

Just a heads up I did not proofread this and english is not my first language.

Taglist: @julieeba @delilah1990 @fan-goddess @shit-posts420 @watercolorskyy

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As you sit staring at your inbox, you hardly expect to hear back from A. Targaryen so soon after sending your email. And yet, her eagerness to meet you catches you off guard. The surprise only grows when she suggests the meeting take place at Red Keep, one of the most extravagant restaurants in all of King's Landing.

"Red Keep, huh," you murmured, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice. "Is this how rich people hold interviews?"

You are aware that dining at Red Keep would be an extravagant expense, potentially amounting to half of your savings from your two months of hard work at the local pediatric clinic, a job that you held dear in your heart and still harbor resentment towards being fired from.

You push the thought aside and head to your small closet to pick out the most formal clothing you can find which is the black dress that you had worn to your college graduation. You hope that it will suit the occasion and not make you look out of place in such a lavish setting. Furthermore, since you are under the suspicion that the family you will be working for as a nanny is even more affluent than you initially believed.

You recalled your experience of assisting children at the clinic, thinking that it had prepared you well for this new job.

"This should be a piece of cake," you told yourself as you made your way to the Red Keep restaurant.

However, deep down, you couldn't shake off the nervousness that came with starting a new job. You held on to the hope that this job would be as fulfilling as your previous one, and that the kid you would be taking care of would appreciate your efforts, just as the ones at the clinic did.

As you step inside the restaurant, you are greeted by a stunning hostess exuding an air of sophistication. She wears a perfectly tailored skirt and blouse that match the upscale decor of the place. Her sleek, polished appearance is completed by a pair of heels. The way she carries herself speaks volumes about the high standards of the establishment.

"Good evening, ma'am. Do you have a reservation?" she asked, pasting on a fake smile and emphasizing the word ‘reservation’ as if knowing you couldn't afford a single thing in the restaurant, not even their appetizers.

"Yes, under A. Targaryen," you replied confidently, determined to show her that you belonged in such a high-class establishment. The hostess's body suddenly changed after hearing the name you had mentioned.

"Ah, right this way, Mr. Targaryen will be with you shortly" she said, leading you to a private table at the back of the restaurant.

Mr. Targaryen? Did I hear her right? Maybe I misheard her. you thought to yourself.

As you marveled at the opulence of the restaurant's decor, a waiter approached you to inquire if you would like to begin with any appetizers. You decided to forego the appetizers and instead ordered a water, realizing that the unfriendly hostess was right about you not being able to afford the extravagant menu items. While waiting for your future boss, you occupied yourself by scrolling through your phone.

“Excuse me,” someone says.

The unexpected sound made you choke on your water, causing some to dribble down your chin. Embarrassed, you quickly wiped it away with a napkin. As you finished cleaning up, a face came into your view.

Motherf–

Your mind struggled to comprehend the sight before you. The man standing in front of you possessed a captivating appearance, with sharp, chiseled facial features and a prominent jawline. His eyes were a pale shade of purple, reminiscent of delicate lilacs in full bloom, and seemed to emit an otherworldly aura. His platinum blond hair was styled back, accentuating the angles of his face, and appeared to shimmer in the light, giving it an almost supernatural quality. He was a breathtakingly beautiful sight, resembling a creature from a dream.

In short, the man before you was none other than Aegon Targaryen, the world-renowned singer whose soulful voice had captivated millions.

"Excuse me, are you Y/N?" he asked, his voice like a melody that could soothe any troubled soul.

As your eyes remained transfixed on the ethereal man, his lips moved, and you suddenly snapped out of your reverie. Realizing that he had posed a question, you struggled to gather your composure before finally managing to respond, "Y-Yes, I am. Nice to meet you, Mr. Targaryen."

Aegon flashed you a charming smile that could easily disarm even the most composed individuals. "Please, call me Aegon. Mr. Targaryen makes me feel old," he remarked, his tone tinged with a touch of playfulness.

As he spoke, you couldn't help but question his age. He certainly appeared older than you, though not excessively so. There was an air of maturity about him, but he retained a youthful essence. Still, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, entranced by his presence.

"Right," you stammered.

"I'm Y/N. Y/N L/N," you introduced yourself, trying to regain your composure in the midst of his charismatic presence. As you pushed away from the table, he extended his hand at the same moment you were about to do the same. The result? A clumsy collision of palms and fingers, turning the handshake into a tangled mess reminiscent of a chaotic game of Twister.

Both of you were taken aback by the unexpected jumble of hands. Your face flushed a deep shade of crimson, and Aegon let out a nervous chuckle, attempting to diffuse the awkwardness that hung in the air.

"I apologize for asking you to meet me here. With my busy schedule leading up to my tour, I've been trying my best to fit everything in. I thought it would be convenient to have our interview while I have a meeting later at 8:45 pm, so I hope we can wrap up quickly."

"It's not a problem. I initially thought it was customary to conduct such meetings over dinner, especially at a place like this, but I figured..." The realization dawns on you, and you can't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment as you cover your eyes, trying to hide your flushed face.

"Oh my God. This wasn't a dinner interview. You wanted to talk to me before your upcoming meeting."

"I should have... been clearer in my email."

"I can't believe it. I wore this silly dress, and..."

"It's actually a very nice dress," he interjects, a touch of amusement in his voice as he finds your little outburst endearing.

"I must seem completely ridiculous..."

"Really, you don't," he assures you.

"I can be so oblivious sometimes. I apologize."

He continues to look amused, finding your moment of self-doubt and realization rather cute.

"You're welcome to order something," he suggests. "If you feel like it. I don't mind."

"Thank you, but I think I have to excuse myself now. Perhaps it's best if I just leave, don't you think? This situation is already spiraling into a disaster."

"Wait, no," he interjects, reaching out his hand as you try to make your escape.

"Please don't do that." You halt in your tracks, uncertain if he still intends to proceed with the interview. Perhaps he's having second thoughts as well. You speculate.

"Are you still interested in interviewing me?"

"To be frank," he sighed, his voice laced with genuine surprise, "no other applicant even comes close to your credentials. CPR training, First Aid certification, and experience working at a prestigious pediatric clinic. The references I checked couldn't stop raving about you. It seemed they were truly saddened to see you go."

"Yes, it was disheartening when circumstances forced me to leave," you admitted, a tinge of nostalgia in your voice. "Funding issues plagued the clinic. I cherished every moment there."

"Well," he chuckled softly, "it appears their loss may be my gain. Your résumé astounded me when it landed in my inbox."

"But now that you've met me, I imagine you're starting to doubt its authenticity," you remarked, a trace of self-deprecation evident in your words.

Aegon's laughter escaped, a restrained mirth accompanied by a gentle downturn of his gaze, as if he didn't want to appear disrespectful. Given the awkwardness of this initial encounter, such caution was understandable.

"No," he reassured, his voice warm. "I have no doubts about its authenticity. Although I must admit, I am curious. With your remarkable background, why seek a nanny position?"

The air held a moment of anticipation as you contemplated his question, the unspoken desires and motivations that brought you to this point.

You released a heavy sigh, leaning in closer over the table, gathering the courage to share your truth. "Can I speak honestly with you?"

Aegon leaned forward, his eyes displaying genuine interest. "I would prefer nothing less," he replied, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

Taking a moment to compose your thoughts, you began, "I'm currently in my final year of a graduate program. As I mentioned in my email, I lost my job due to downsizing. Rent in this city has become exorbitant, and to be completely frank, I'm in need of financial stability. Moreover, the offer of free room and board is an opportunity I can't dismiss. It would alleviate a significant burden on top of everything else."

A furrow formed on his forehead, suggesting that a concern had surfaced, and you braced yourself for the rejection you feared was imminent. "Regarding that," he began, his tone serious, "I feel compelled to inform you that it's a live-in position, but I want to be entirely transparent. It's just me and my daughter. Rest assured, you would have your own room, practically an entire floor to yourself, complete privacy. However, I understand if this arrangement might make you uncomfortable."

In all your years of existence, it seemed rather extraordinary that your first encounter of living with a strikingly attractive man would unfold within the realm of a fully immersive fictional scenario. Though a part of you longed to inquire about the other parent in this situation, if only to quell your inner turmoil, your rational mind vehemently warned against such a misstep.

With practiced precision, you adorned your face with a professional smile, masking the whirlwind of thoughts swirling within. "I don't anticipate any issues on my end. However, in the spirit of complete transparency... I'm currently enrolled in a hybrid program at KL's."

Curiosity flickered in Aegon's eyes as he sought clarification. "What does that mean?"

A faint chuckle escaped your lips as you unraveled the intricacies of your schedule. "Essentially, it means that the majority of my coursework is conducted online, affording me the flexibility to manage it during the evenings after work. However, two weekends every month, I'm required to attend on-campus classes. And most of the jobs I've applied for have struggled to accommodate my schedule, rendering it somewhat of a deal breaker." A wistful smile accompanied your admission.

Aegon pondered your words, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze. "Well, it appears that I might be the sole individual who recognizes the true value of your impressive credentials."

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Note: I apologize for the delay in releasing Chapter 1. Unfortunately, I unexpectedly fell ill with a viral infection shortly after posting the sneak peek. Despite that, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please understand that some parts may not be as well-written as I had initially intended, as I wrote them while I was still unwell. That’s all. Thank you for reading.

#Aegon Targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic

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