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#and other times it sounds like I should just trash it
dlysthings · 2 days
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Little crush pt.6
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A/N: Im so sorry for how much time it took me to write this part, but these past 2 weeks i was sick and ha a lot of sterss at school so i apologise. This is not proofread and english is not my native language so i apologise for any mistakes.
At the woods Daryl was finally at piece, the only place that could give him this scarce pleasure. The sound of the running water around him never filed at calming him down. The creek on which’s side he was sitting on was his little sanctuary, hidden deep into the forest around your town. The sounds were slowly starting to put his mind at ease. He needed that, craved it. After the pain he felt at lunch he needed to take his mind of that, forget a bit about it so he can face it later. It wasn’t the best strategy but it worked for him. If pushing it down until it all became too much to handle and lashed out on the nearest person to him. The only thing he worried about was this person to not be you. Even after hurting him you didn’t deserve his harsh words. He would never hurt you, ever.
But even his own little heaven on earth couldn’t make him stop thinking of today. Why did you not come? At the end it was your idea, so maybe you actually liked spending time with him. Or at least that was what he thought. Maybe one of your friend heard about it and reminded you of the trash he actually was and then you decided to just don’t show up. It should be this. You didn’t want your friends to see you sitting with the “weirdo redneck” the whole school knew him as. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he? At the end of the day he needed to remember who he was.
Still this didn’t stop him from feeling hurt and let down by you. The excitement he felt when he bought the piece of cheesecake, hoping it will bring a smile to your face, was almost overwhelming. His heart was beating like a jackhammer inside his chest. While he waited for you to come and sit, he was thinking how to ask you out. Of course he couldn’t be smooth like the popular guys and straight up ask you. He was thinking that maybe going into the woods and showing you his favorite spots with the reason that was for your upcoming biology quiz. At your house you seemed interested at the subject so he thought this was perfect. And maybe if he was brave enough he could ask you out on a real date. Buy you dinner and walk you to your house. Maybe you would have given him another kiss on the cheek.
Yet that was only om his head. As soon as he saw you with your back to him, sitting with your friends, he knew he shouldn’t have lie to himself. Both of you were from different worlds and he needed to understand that. From now on he would keep his distance from you. Sitting away from you, not staring like he always does. Only this will keep him from being hurt again.
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The next day his plan was on the verge to fail every time you came within his eye side. In every class the two of you had together you were trying to sit in the closest possible seat, the whole time he could feel your eyes practically glued to his head, but he wouldn’t budge. After every class he would get out the fastest way possible. Even though he didn’t even want to look at you he was secretly hoping, deep down, that you will make him stop and explain that you didn’t dump him yesterday, that it was only a mistake. Something like you forgot or a friend of yours needed you for something really important. But he knew he shouldn’t hope. It was useless.
On the other hand, you were desperate to get Daryl’s attention, trying everything you could think of. The first two times you tried to catch up to him and explain why you didn’t end up with him yesterday, he walked so fast that it was impossible to even think of that. You knew he was ignoring you and you deserved it. But the truth was that you did wanted to sit with him, to be in his company again and to get lost into his beautiful blue eyes.
What happened yesterday was that you completely forgot. Until the moment you saw him leave the cafeteria you were so worried about the fact that you just received another bad grade in Science, a subject that you never seemed to understand, and the whole time were thinking of how to change it. It was so stupid and you knew that you had hurt him. The reason was so foolish and the whole rest of yesterday you were thinking how to explain it so it wouldn’t sound like something made up. At the end you decided to be honest with him. You would tell him the truth about what happened and then pray that he won’t call you a liar and never speak to you again. 
You finally were able to sneak up on him after school. Fort the rest of the school day you were laying low, walking in different hallways to not seem like you were trying to catch him. So he relaxed, thought that you gave up on him and everything is how it always was. Not that he was happy, no. Every time he looked around and didn’t spot you within eye sight he felt a little pang in his heart, making him drop his shoulders. He didn’t even bother trying to listen to any of the teachers. He couldn’t make it a day without seeing you. How pathetic. He didn’t even notice your figure standing next to the door he was about to go through.
“Hey, Daryl, do you have a second?” Your words made him jump, turning towards you, looking like he saw a ghost and he couldn’t take his eyes of you. You were looking amazing as always, but a worried expression was adoring your face. Why would you be worried? Immediately he was the one concerned now. Did something happen to you? It didn’t look like you were crying so that was a good sign. The wrinkle between your eyebrows deepened and he remembered that you had asked him a question. “What do ya want?” The moment he said it he regretted the gruff way he spoke and the way your face turned from worried to sad didn’t help either. Good job ya idiot, now ya made’er sadder. “I’m sorry for yesterday” You said with your eyes looking at the floor, not being able to look into his eyes and see the disappointment and pain in them. “I got a D in Science and was really distracted and at the end forgot. I’m so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you. Do you want to go out sometimes?” At your confession Daryl was dumbfounded. He hoped that you really forgot and had a problem, but he never seriously considered it. He was sure you were too embarrassed to sit with him, let alone ask him to hang out with you. And how could he decline that, maybe he was even able to help you out with your troubles. He was always good at science so maybe he could study again with you.
“Ye-yea, I want’a hang out with ya. I can also help ya with science.” At that he seemed too eager so he tried to play it down with a casually “only if ya want’ta” and leaning on the near wall, looking at the smile appearing on your face like it didn’t make butterflies flutter inside his stomach. In a matter of seconds your face turned from sad and worried to a blinding smile. The knowledge that he was the one to brighten up your mood made him feel prouder than he has ever been. “Really?” The joyful look atop your face was enough to make Daryl weak in the knees. No one has ever looked at him with such a sincere hope as you. The attention you were giving him made his cheek burn in a bright red color and he ducked his head so you wouldn’t see it. There was a warmth inside him, going to every part of his body. Such a unique feeling, but oddly a nice one as well. “So... um..do ya want me ta help ya?” He said. “Of course. Do you want me to come to your house?” You offered, thinking he will prefer to be at his place.
Daryl’s eyes widened at your seemingly innocent suggestion. His heart was beating a thousand miles an hour in his ribcage. Last time he came to your place so it was only fair if this time he was the host. And he was too shy to ask to come to your house again. But there was no way in hell he was letting you see the dump he called “home”. You were looking at him with an anticipating gaze. He couldn’t let you down, disappoint you. Just as he was about to ask to come again at your house an idea formed into his head. There was a place he could always go, calm and safe. A place where he felt at piece and wanted to share with you. The woods he always went to calm down was a perfect place. The side of the creek cutting through the forest was an ideal spot to take you and he wouldn’t need to explain his home situation.
“Actually I was thinkin’ of a spot I know. It’s quiet and nice.” He offered and was now anxiously waiting for your reaction. “Of course. Where is it?” you asked. “I can’t really explain it. I can pick ya up from yur house and will show ya. Okay?” Just after saying it he realized how this sounded. He was offering to take you to a place you didn’t know and you probably didn’t trust him. Nice job, ia dumbass. Now she’s gonna think yur some kind of creep. Realy smart. He braced himself for your rejection of his idea. But instead you were on board with it. Even seemed like you weren’t worried at all. The two of you agreed he will pick you up at 10 am this Saturday and later he will drop you off.
After both of you agreed on the details you said goodbye and went on your way, smiling to yourself that Daryl didn’t resent you about yesterday. And the help he offered felt like a blessing. If you were lucky tomorrow, there was a chance to maybe finally make a move towards him.
Daryl was still leaning on the wall you left him at and he couldn’t believe his luck, but there was an unsettling feeling inside him. Just yesterday he swore to keep his distance from you. What if you accepted his offer only for his help? It didn’t sound unbelievable, but you didn’t seem like the person to do so. The joy in your eyes seemed genuine and so did your face. But that didn’t stop him from being afraid he was going to be hurt again. Maybe he should tell you that something came up and he couldn’t, just stick to his previous plan, but he didn’t have it in himself to disappoint you. The only thing he could do was hope for the best. Perhaps he will find the courage to finally do something about his crush on you.
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The time until Saturday couldn’t come faster. That was the thought replaying in Daryl’s head while trying to fall asleep. It was Thursday around 12 pm and he was laying in his room, staring at the clock on his nightstand. The house was quiet save for the sound of his dad’s snoring. When Daryl came home he was greeted with the sight of his father passed out in his armchair, a bottle of beer on the ground next to it. This view was the best Daryl could hope for. The other instance was his dad coming home late into the night and taking whatever anger he felt out on Daryl. After he felt he inflicted enough abuse, his father would go into his bedroom and pass out, loudly starting to snore.
Daryl would almost always stay in his room, in a corner feeling like the weakest person on earth, the most he would do was craw in his bed, looking at the ceiling. On the outside he looked calm, just laying but inside his head he was screaming to himself to finally do something. To get up and move out like Merle, to run from his father. And just when he felt he had enough courage his dad would come with new insults to add on the long list. It almost felt like he was able to sniff out when Daryl felt even an ounce of self-esteem and bravery. Then he would come with blows and kicks, curses spilling from his mouth, making Daryl remember who he really is. And where he belonged.
A creaking sound made Daryl snap out of his thoughts. Wistfully he knew all to well this sound, the very one of his dad’s room’s door. It always creaked, almost like an alarm for him to hide. And that was what he did. Going to his window and carefully lifting it up, so he won’t make himself known to his wasted father. As soon as he could craw out of it he maneuvered his body and landed on the outside of the trailer. Just on time to hear the door to his room open and heavy steps come inside. He styled his movements and strained his ears to hear his father’s reaction. In his head he was praying Will wouldn’t glance out of the window, because if he did Daryl was screwed. Maybe there really’s a god. Daryl thought as the only thing heard from his room was a slurred curse and then the sound of his bedroom door being closed. His whole body relaxed and he slumped onto the side of the trailer. That was a close call and he knew how lucky he was. The down side was there was no way to go in soon so he needed a place to stay. The thought of going to your house flashed across his head but then he realized how it will look. Him appearing outside your front door at midnight at a school night. And naturally there would be too many questions.
He couldn’t do that so he settled on going for a walk around town. It was late so the streets were mostly empty save for a few cars and some groups of teenagers. He stopped at the convenience store and went inside. The only person onside was a middle aged woman, dressed in the store uniform. She only glanced at him and then returned to the magazine she was reading. One of the things Daryl liked about coming there at night was that no one cared who were you. The employees would just look up at you and then return to their tasks. Going to the fridges he grabbed a can of Cola and headed towards the register. Placing the can on the counter he reached for a pack of gum and also placed it on the counter. The woman scanned the items and snatched the bills Daryl had handed her. Placing the money in the register she didn’t say anything to him as he walked out.
Now outside he opened his coke and took a sip of it. He needed to wait a bit more before going back to hi place, just in case his dad still hasn’t fell asleep yet. Looking around and seeing the local park he thought he might as well go there. The park was well lit and a few benches were scattered around for people to sit on. While walking around his mind wandered off towards you. What were you doing now? Probably sleeping but did you also think about your upcoming date. Where you as impatient as him or you were just patiently waiting? Maybe he never even crossed your mind and he wouldn’t be surprised. After all you just saw it as a favor. But for him it was so much more. You were trusting him that he knew what he was doing, even putting hope onto his knowledge.
Without noticing he was already at the end of the park and enough time had passed for him to go home. With sorrowful steps he made his way to his trailer. He always dreaded coming there, but he didn’t have any choice. From the front door he could hear his father’s snoring so at least he didn’t need to worry about that. Going into his room he flopped onto his bed and hugged his pillow. But oh how much he wanted you to be the one there with him. To run your fingers through his hair and place a kiss on top his head. With this dream in mind he fell asleep. It wasn’t surprising when his dream was exactly the thing he wanted the most – you.
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Saturday at 10 am the sound of the doorbell ringing made you run to open the door. You still didn’t have all the things you needed ready but didn’t want your mom opening the door and embarrassing you again, like the last time. Outside your front door stood Daryl with a little smile upon his face. “Hi, Daryl! Do you want to come in? I just need a minute.” You asked and opened the door more for him. “Yea, sure.” Answered Daryl and came inside. While walking beside you your hands accidentally brushed and goosebumps appeared along his skin. Every time your skin touched his he went all red in the face and this time it was no different. While ducking his head so you don’t see the crimson red painting his cheeks you made sure your mom is not around. Thank god she wasn’t, though it only seemed this way.
From the countertop in the kitchen your mom had a perfect view of the front door but you couldn’t see her. And she didn’t miss the way your eyes happened to brighten a bit at the sight of Daryl on your front step. And the way his face would color red almost immediately also wasn’t lost on her. Even though to here both of your feelings were obvious id didn’t seem like the two of you knew. But wasn’t it like this always?
Your house wasn’t that unfamiliar to Daryl now so he was able to relax a bit. The living room looked exactly like the last time he was here. Glancing at you he saw that you were already looking at him. Both of you blushed and looked away with little smiles on your faces. “So… I need only a few things from my room and I will be back. Would you mind waiting for a bit?” You questioned and waited for him to respond. “No, I will be good. I’ll wait here.” He said and looked around again. “Okay then. Make yourself comfortable.” You said and went upstairs, leaving Daryl alone. Going upstairs you grabbed a few books for science and the few snacks you prepared for today. Checking yourself in the mirror for the last time you went down happy with the way you looked.
In the living room you stooped dead in your tracks at the view before your eyes. Your mother was sat next to Daryl on the couch. She was smiling and it looked like she had just asked Daryl a question if you could guess from her expecting gaze. Daryl on the other hand looked like he wants to be anywhere but here. And your thoughts would be right, because Daryl regretted ever saying he wanted to come inside. He should have waited outside. Your mom came into the room just as you disappeared up the stairs, almost like she was waiting for you to leave. She greeted him and immediately started asking questions about him. He was so overwhelmed with that dose of attention that the most he could answer was a simple “yes” or “no”. Your mom didn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable he was so she carried on with her questions about how he was at school and other nonsense. Unfortunately, she didn’t skip the questions about his family but at that moment you came to his rescue.
“I’m ready. Are we going?” You urged looking at Daryl with raised eyebrows and a little smirk upon your mouth. “Yea, let’s go. Nice meetin’ you, ma’am.” Daryl said and got up. Your mom only offered a smile and said a goodbye as well. Finally, outside you questioned where you were going. Instead of answering you Daryl only glanced at you nervously and muttered a “You will see.”. Now that he was finally getting close to the woods he got more and more anxious. How would you react to him leading you into the woods? What if you found the little surprise he made for you ridiculous? But he didn’t let these thoughts win over the joy of being around you. The time you were walking there was mostly silence but it didn’t seem awkward or uncomfortable. It was the exact opposite, a comfortable one and he didn’t feel the need to say something.
After about a 10 minute walk you were at the edge of the forest. He looked at you, expecting to see you looking around and confused but instead you were looking at him curiously. There was not a single sign of worry or confuse. “There is a little creek about 5 minutes from here. Thought you would like it.” He spoke first and waited for your reaction. “Lead the way then.” You said and waited for him to continue walking. Daryl’s nerves calmed down after your calm response. To be honest he didn’t think someone would be that calm around him, let alone you. After all you didn’t really know anything about him. And after a bit of thinking Daryl realized that he didn’t really know anything about you either other than the basic stuff like family and friends. Today was an opportunity to get to know you and he should use it.
The forest both of you were in was beautiful, full of sounds and light. The birds chirping and the rustling of the leaves was like music to your ears. The last time you were in a forest was maybe 2 years ago when you and your family went on a camping trip to a nearby national park. Thinking of it reminded you of how nice it was. You never thought that you could miss the forest but here you were. And looking at Daryl you noticed how relax he looked, no tension visible in his muscles. That was maybe the only time you have ever seen him so at peace. He looked at you with the corner of his eye and you turned your gaze away, not realizing that you were staring but you couldn’t help it. You were seeing new side of Daryl unfold in front of your eyes.
Daryl could already hear the sound of the water running ahead of him. His body wasn’t as tense as it was at your house, the forest having its calming effect on him. Now his mind was worked up if the thing he went earlier to set up was going to be too much. He wanted to make something special for you and hopped you wouldn’t find it stupid. Walking on a bit of narrow path covered in dry leaves somewhere you heard a Woodpecker pecking. Looking around the trees trying to find it you didn’t saw a tree root poking through the forest floor. Tripping on it you were too stunned to reach out your arms to stop your fall. Preparing yourself for the pain bout to come you braced yourself and closed your eyes but no pain came. Opening your eyes, you saw Daryl holding you to his chest, his face having an almost terrified expression on it. Your faces were so close that you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Looking at his lips you wondered what would be the feeling of them pressed against your own. Looking back at Daryl’s eyes you saw a new emotion in them but you couldn’t understand what it was.
Daryl caught you out of pure instinct, not thinking how close your bodies would be. But when you opened your eyes and looked into his eyes with this look of gratefulness his heart started pounding like a jackhammer inside his ribcage. And when you looked at his lips he sneaked a glance at yours. How full the seemed to be and the urge to feel them against his own was almost irresistible. Almost. But what if you didn’t want this and pushed him away from you. Called him a creep and ran away. He couldn’t risk it so he settled with looking at his feet and letting you go, the absence of your body and its warmth against it painfully obvious to him.
“Ya ok?” he asked this time looking at your face, scanning it for any sign of pain. You only shook your head, still a little bit shaken up from being so close to him. “I’m good, don’t worry. Are we close?” Turning to the direction the two of you were walking in you stepped over the root and turned to Daryl. “Uhm…yea. Jus’ a bit more.” With that you started walking again, this time looking where you were going. After just a minute of walking you saw the light reflecting from the surface of the water. In front of you was a creek surrounded by tall trees, the branches of the trees making a colorful shade over it. And then you saw the rest. At the sight of the blanket and the food scattered on it you halted immediately. There were different kinds of food and 2 sodas atop it.
“Hope ya like it. I’ve never really did somethin’ like tha’.” His nervous words made you turn to him, seeing his cheeks painted bright red. He was shuffling from foot to foot and looking down. “Oh, Daryl, you did all this? For me?” One look into his eyes told him that you did in fact like it. “Of cours’ fer ya.” He said with a bashful smile and sat on the blanket, making a gesture with his hand for you to do the same. Plopping down next to him you continued looking around, enjoying the sight before your eyes. Daryl was doing the same thing, his gaze pinned on you. He was finally starting to believe that this was actually happening, you with him at the only place he knew how to relax. You probably weren’t feeling the same way as him but for now he would allow himself to daydream you do.
Turning back to him you pulled out a notebook and stared at him expectantly. He seemed like he forgot what the two of you were meeting up to do. Snapping out of his daydreams he pulled out his book and started to actually work. But every now and then you would take small breaks and would snack on the things he prepared and chat for everyday stuff. Daryl never thought talking with someone can be this easy, not awkward or pointless small talk. And you would ask so many questions, trying to learn the things that he liked. Asking what was his favorite ice cream - chocolate or about his favorite color – green. And he would always return the question absorbing the information like a sponge tossed into water. The knowledge wasn’t something really deep but it was the things that made you who you were.
By the late afternoon you finally understood Science. Turns out Daryl can be an amazing teacher, patiently explaining everything that you didn’t understand. And he now knew enough stuff about you that he felt like he has always known you. When the sun looked like was about to set you picked up your things and Daryl cleaned up, getting the blanked in one hand. Starting to walk back to your house the whole way you were talking and laughing. If someone saw you they would think that both of you were longtime friends, just going for a walk. Gradually in no time you here in front of your front door and you were turning to say goodbye to Daryl. But he was already looking at you, a seemingly sad expression onto his face. He didn’t want this to end, talking and learning new things about you.
“I had an amazing time with you. If you want to maybe, we should do it again.” The enthusiastic tone of your voice making him feel like someone lit a fire inside him, the warmth spreading to very crevice of his body. “I would love ta.” The smile on top his face was genuine and before he knew what was happening you were leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek. His body was completely straightened up and the look on his face being like to someone just stricken up by thunder.
“Bye, Daryl. I will see you Monday.” Turning around and going inside your house you left Daryl on your porch wondering if he will ever get used to these.
Masterlist: @marvelcasey05 @zomb133g1rl @ryoujoking @starkeysslvt @appearancesaredeceiving4lice @that-german-girrl @tobemylover-x
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You should write beast wars, can I have some silly predacon headcanons?
I should absolutely write beast wars. Silly Predacon headcanons coming up
-Megatron talks battle strategy with his rubber duck all the time. He considers it his most trusted advisor because it's never said anything stupid and never tried to kill him. Honestly, he's tempted to think of the little dude as his only real friend.
-Speaking of Megatron, the man is a WHORE for a good bath bomb. Lush addiction, 100%. He has a whole hidden stock of bath bombs, bath salts, scented oils, candles, decorative soaps, scented metal polish and flower petals specifically for spoiling himself when he feels like hes completely surrounded by idiots. Which is often. Has he ever tried to eat one of the decorative soaps that look like baked goods? It doesn't count if it's the t rex hand.
-the reason skorponok occasionally reverts into caveman speak for some episodes is the writers couldn't figure out what to do with him he knows talking like that pisses off tarantulas and he thinks his annoyance is funny even though literally nobody else is amused by the bit.
-skorponok actually kind of misses dinobot because he made his job a lot easier. Constantly pitching ideas, suggesting battle strategies, pointing out flaws in plans. He was useful, even if he seemed to hate skorponok. He doesn't really know how to be a good second in command anymore because a crucial part of the dynamic is missing and he just can't adapt.
-waspinator is perfectly capable of speaking in normal grammar and not in the third person but he's been doing it since he joined in with Megatron and at this point he thinks he's in too deep to knock it off. He thinks it makes him sound cuter because it's actually an evolution of internet uwu speak. Memes get weirdly translated from earth to Cybertron and back.
-waspinator is actually really good at baking but he'll get blasted to bits a thousand times over before he lets anyone other than terrorsaur know because none of his other coworkers deserve to try his cupcakes (and also because he doesn't want to get "promoted" to kitchen slave). Dinobot knew, but he didn't snitch. Wasp never found out that Dinobot would occasionally snag a brownie, he always thought he just counted wrong.
-Terrorsaur is not above attempting to seduce a maximal but all his flirting attempts go horribly awry. If they don't outright reject him they just have no idea what he's getting at bc Predacon flirting is usually a lot different than maximal flirting so everyone thinks he's just kind of being a dick like usual. Dinobot knows exactly what is happening and ranges anywhere from amused to disgusted by the cross-faction fling attempts. The flying weasel clearly has no principles.
-Every couple weeks or so wasp and terrorsaur will get together to watch terrible movies over a bottle of highgrade and it always devolves into bitching about megatron. They tried inviting tarantulas a few times but he'd always make things Weird by bringing in slashers with really good special effects and proceeding to gush about how tasty the gore looks.
-Tarantulas knows what just about every living species in the known galaxy tastes like, organic, mechanical and everything in between. If it's made contact with Cybertron, chances are he's he's tried their flesh (or lack thereof). If it's at all possible, he wants to find out enough about the Vok to figure out how to capture, kill and eat one.
-Tarantulas also thinks rampage is a total poser when it comes to cannibalism. He doesn't even look like he's having fun with it. Barely any torturing or teasing beforehand, only dramatic monologues about fear and anguish. Bah! Amateur...
-Blackarachnia has a trash tv addiction. She doesn't know WHY the Darksyde's datatrax has every season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and like 30 TLC produced shows, but she refuses to stop watching them. Tarantulas fucking hates it. She does not care and if he complains she will turn the volume higher.
-Blackarachnia has incredibly mixed feelings on the story Cinderella. On the one hand, it gives her a degree of hope. A girl reduced to a work slave for terrible people that gets to escape and live it up with a guy that lives her? Great conceptually, but she only got to get out of it because she was a good person and nice to everyone. Blackarachnia? Not quite so disgustingly sweet. She's a bad girl through and through. And evidently bad people don't get to escape bad situations. Oh well. She can always try to fake it til she makes it.
-Inferno has always secretly hoped that when the war is over, his Queen Megatron will settle down with him and repopulate the colony together. He has wildly saccharine domestic daydreams of being with his giant beloved lizardy queen and their 3000+ kids. He has accidentally let this slip around Megatron once, who proceeded to pointedly ignore what he just said.
-Terrorsaur and Blackarachnia got Inferno to watch Drag Race but upon hearing the contestants being called queen, he took it a bit too literally and interpreted the show as the sad, underwhelming way human queens settle disputes between their colonies instead of just fighting the proper way. Lame.
-Quickstrike is so so very sad he can't play video games. He wants to play GTA and cause excessive and wanton death and destruction, but his fucked up hands cannot hold the controller. He forsakes Primus for building him the way he did. He keeps trying to get tarantulas to make him a usable controller but he gets brushed off every time.
-Quickstrike has attempted to ride inferno in his beast mode into battle. It did not end well but for about a solid 18 seconds it looked metal as hell.
-Rampage actually really likes depth charge and wants to be friends sooooo bad but he doesn't know how to handle that in a healthy way so he keeps trying to get his attention by playing up the cannibalism thing and hoping they fight again. Honestly he just kind of likes depth charge holding him, even if it's in a chokehold.
-After losing transmutate, Rampage projected a lot of his grief onto waspinator, which lead to a very strange period of time on the ship where rampage would get very cuddly and protective of wasp, who was incredibly terrified of what would happen if he shoved the crab off. Usually accompanied by Rampage being Incredibly Sad.
-every month the preds have a game night. Usually a board game or card game with Megatron's house rules. Said house rules are specifically designed to make a fight break out for his amusement. These game nights typically end with at least three people in the r-chamber and somebody missing at least one limb.
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prince-of-calydon · 2 years
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jimingyue · 4 months
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Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
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🖋️ meowful-musings Follow
🕊️ birdwatching Follow
what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine
💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204
op wheres the natural feeding option
🌲 outdoorsy Follow
you guys are getting fed?
#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look
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☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3
🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow
as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3
#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....
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🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right
❤️ loving-paws284 Follow
um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...
🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow
OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD
🐟 tunafeesh Follow
also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks
anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse
#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now
32,456 notes
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🍃 naturalliving Follow
BORN TO DIE
WORLD IS A FUCK
猫神 Kill Em All 1989
I am trash cat
410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS
#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly
48,971 notes
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🎣 salmonpurina Follow
can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther
#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks
34 notes
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💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!
🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow
evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever
💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
make your own pawst
💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721
umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...
👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow
Nyaverage shelter cat behavior
#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up
545,460 notes
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🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo
💡 discourse-meows Follow
hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
1. i was making. a joak
2. i'm literally gay???
#literally what's your pawblem
7 notes
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🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
i know you fuckers are lying
🍭 gaykittens Follow
this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
shut the heull up
988,653 notes
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🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise
🐁 ladymouser Follow
op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us
33K notes · View notes
hxzbinwrites · 3 months
Note
Hi! I just saw that requests are open, yeah!! I'd like to request an Alastor x fem!Reader where Vox has a crush on her so he sends her a set of different tea flavor as a gift. The problem is that these contain a drug that inhibits the person (thanks, Valentino). Basically, his plan was to wait for her to drink the tea and then show up at the hotel and seduce her so he could have her for himself (my boy thinks she loves him, lol). The problem is that she had graciously offered the tea to Alastor, who drinks it. Vox asks her if she enjoyed the tea she lies saying it was delicious so he immediately shows up at the hotel but ends up finding Alastor who is being super affectionate with her, revealing his true feelings for her. Eventually Alastor attacks Vox as soon as he sees him forcing the other to flee. Fluff and comedy, basically. xD
Alastor x Fem! Reader x Vox | Tea Time Troubles
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Warnings ⚠️:  Cussing, drugs, controlling and manipulative Vox, out of character Alastor.
"I dunno 'bout this Voxxy" Valentino said, handing him a baggie of the drug, a weak aphrodisiac lining the walls of the bag.
"Don't worry about me Valentino, I'll be fine" Vox reassured him, holding the bag up to his screened face. He smirked deviously as he put his hands behind his back.
"But you tell me all the time 'bout 'public image' and all that shit." Valentino retorted, crossing his lower arms against his stomach.
"Don't you worry your pretty little face about it Honey" Vox sneered, rubbing his cheek in a falsely affectionate way. "Vox is a big boy and can handle himself. I just gotta put this into some tea bags. (Y/n) WILL be MINE."
"Ugh" The moth groaned, taking a puff of his cigar,"She's not even worth it. She hangs out with radio, fossil trash. If she was good shed know who to choose. Besides, I'm better than she is, right?"
"You're wrong." Vox said, his left eye radiating hypnotizing waves out of anger,"(Y/n) is perfect. She's everything, and she will be mine."
Vox's demonic laughter could be heard across the building, sending chills down anyone who heard it's spine.
--------
"Honey!!" (Y/n) exclaimed, holding up the box of tea that arrived at their house,"Your tea shipment came!"
Alastor, who was reading the paper at the kitchen table, looked over to see his dear (Y/n) carrying two large cardboard boxes.
He teleported over, making his shadows place them atop of the counter. His keen eyes narrowed at the second box, seemingly almost identical to the first one.
"How peculiar!" Alastor said, tapping his cane on the second box, almost poking it as if it was a foreign object.
"What's peculiar about it?" The fellow deer demon asked, peering over at the box her partner was so intrigued by.
"I did not order two shipments of tea from the catalogue this month!" He replied, his smile tightening in irritation. Could someone be trying to plant something in this hotel? Trying to hurt any of his friends, his beloved, or him?
"Maybe it's a promo box?" (Y/n) suggested,"I mean, you are a loyal customer of theirs. Maybe they want you to try a new product, I hear that's the new rage."
"Ah" Alastor replied, walking closer to the counter to rip open the second box to be met with a letter and a large box of tea.
"Thank you for your loyalty Mr. Alastor. We're reaching out to our most loyal customers to give this Promo box to! We're asking that you try our newest flavor, a (your favorite flavor) but with a twist! Despite the erratic sounds at night in Hell, this tea should help you fall right asleep! If you enjoy it, please promote so on your beloved Radio Show!"
"I was right!" The doe said, looking up at her partner,"They must've given it to you because they know you're famous and can promote their tea! Very smart people, I wanna try one tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow? Why not today my doe?" Alastor said, looking down at his partner.
"My stomach isn't feeling the best. Charlie's cake wasn't fully cooked through, but I didn't want to be rude and not eat it. Especially because no one else was!"
Alastor chuckled, petting her sensitive ears. "Now now (Y/n), you should've listened to me! I know all!"
"Al..." She said, batting her eyes up at him,"Do you mind trying it for me? I wanna know if it's good, but I don't want to throw up in my sleep!"
"Why should I?" He inquired, smirking down at (Y/n). "It seems like this predicament could've been easily avoided my little doe! Hahaha!"
"Please" She softly asked, smiling at him back.
"I suppose I can try one cup of it." He said, sitting down at the table, fully expecting (Y/n) to make him the cup as he finished reading his paper.
She giggled at him and began to start the kettle. Moments like these can't be replaced, a docile and homey moment between the two of them. (Y/n) loved seeing this side of him. The Alastor side of him, not the Radio Demon.
(Y/n) opened the smaller box that was enclosed in the large one, picking out the first tea bag. She smelled the bag, the fumes of blended herbs wafting in her nostrils. It smelled lovely, she would've to drink one alongside Alastor.
But she held back on picking up another bag, knowing its sleeping effects. (Y/n) really didn't want to throw up while in her sleep, and potentially on Alastor, who would be as knocked out as her.
Sighing, she finished preparing the tea, pouring it in Alastor's favorite teacups, the one (Y/n) gifted him on their second anniversary many years ago.
She walked back over to him, placing the teacup on his saucer, putting the sugar cube in as well.
"Thank you dearest" Alastor said, his eyes skimming over the newspaper,"I shall be in our room in a moment, why don't you go ahead and get in your nightwear?"
"Alrighty" (Y/n) replied, patting the back of Alastor's chair. That was something the two of them did, (Y/n) knew when to touch Alastor and when to not. Still wanting to show him affection, she'll pat an object close to him.
Alastor gave her a soft smile before returning his focus to the newspaper.
The doe walked up the stairs in the hotel to their shared room. She got in her fluffy pajamas, completed each and every step to her skincare routine, and crawled into bed with a book.
The silence was only broken by the occasional turn of a page, this was (Y/n)‘s daily quiet time, as Alastor liked to read the paper before turning in for the night.
This normally is for about an hour, but tonight it was a mere 30 minutes as the door busted open.
The doe yelped, her skittish nature causing her to flinch at the sudden jolt of noise. Her partner flittered into the room before crawling on top of her, his eyes droopy from the affect.
“Hi sugar” He said, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His ears were pressed against his head as he affectionately nuzzled (Y/n). Alastor grabbed her waist and flipped her on top of him, allowing him to bring her closer to his body, her chest atop of his.
“Al-Alastor?!” (Y/n) exclaimed, tensing up. What has gotten into him!? He’s not one to ever make such…bold advances.
“Oh my love” He said, a dreamy lilt in his voice,”you’re just perfection incarnate. Such a lovely little fawn you are.”
Blushing heavily, she let him rest himself on her, snuggling contently. It was rather peaceful, she did not know where this sudden chance of behavior came from, but it certainly wasn’t the worst by far.
(Y/n)’s ears perked up hearing a notification sound ding from her phone. She slowly grabbed it to check what it was.
Alastor was not very keen on allowing this sort of technology in the house, especially knowing Vox is over all of it. So they made a compromise, he’d take out the camera and microphone and she could have the phone.
Seeing it was a message from Vox, she opened it.
Vox: “Hey sweetheart, I pulled a few strings and got a shipment of some new tea of (your favorite flavor) that was being tested. How did you like it baby?”
(Y/n): Oh, it was good, thanks!
Vox: Just good? You sure sweet stuff? Wasn’t it so good you could just kiss the lips off of the person who got it for you?
(Y/n) sighed, shutting her phone off and curling up with her lover.
“I think that’s a yes!” Vox said, throwing his hands in the air ceremoniously. He quickly put on his best bow tie, in hopes it would get taken off by fingers other than his, and made his way towards the Hazbin Hotel.
————
Vox searched through each room until he found the one you and Alastor shared.
He scowled at the door, seeing a heart with the initials scribed on it “(Y/i) + A”
Pathetic. He could give you so much more than that. He could give you the most advanced technological sign known to mankind just for some silly initials, not some shitty hard with nearly illegible handwriting.
He opened the door, his signature smirk dropping as he saw Alastor, his arch nemesis (in Vox’s eyes) peppering small little kisses all over (Y/n)‘s face, making her giggle.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Vox yelled, his face was blue-screening.
Alastor took one look at the fellow Overlord and let out a long string of laughter, sitting up as he pulled (Y/n) into his lap.
“Vox?! What are you doing here?!”
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO DRINK THE TEA!! AND THEN YOU’D BE MINE!!”
Alastor hooked a arm around (Y/n)‘s waist, looking at his opponent across the room.
“This is my doe, my love, and we all know if she would’ve drank the tea, she would’ve always chosen me.”
Lets just say, the power around the Pride Ring went out after that comment.
————
Word Count 1,524
6K notes · View notes
toruslvt · 2 months
Text
 CALL BACK LATER !
[ your ex is on the line ? tell him to fuck off ]
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⋆ toji fushiguro, sukuna ryomen, satoru gojo + fem!reader
 ⋆ mdni. a lot of cursing, exhibitionism through phone calls. tags for each character; toji: you and him a have a one night stand, protected sex, ( who is this bitch that's so not me ), facetiming, hair pulling ( not in a mean way ). sukuna: established relationship, matting press. satoru: taking pics. pet names used: princess, baby, angel.
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TOJI
five times, it’s been five times since your phone screen started to buzz to life with an incoming call of someone registered as ‘trash’, Toji didn’t care, you were just a good fuck in the backseat of his car after a night of drinks.
the problem was how much you squirmed underneath him each time the dark space was lit up by your phone, currently tossed in the carpet. “fuckin’ hell” he grunts, stopping his movements while his hands were tightly pressed on the small of your back, arching your body for his cock to reach deeper in the tight depts of your pussy, now still and throbbing, almost filling the condom with how much precum his tip drooled.
“can’t fuck you properly if you keep tightening up, princess” Toji huffs, leaving a soft smack on your ass, making the skin jiggle as he bends down, picking your phone up and inspecting the screen with a slight smirk, “boyfriend?”
“ex” you whine, muffled by the leather of his backseat.
the scarred corner of his lip tilts up, just slightly before your phone rings again, although this time, Toji presses on the green button, accepting the face call.
“babe, I'm sorry! i di— who the fuck are you?” the gruff voice of a man resonates through the cramped space.
“listen, man” Toji replies, his voice mocking and slightly slurred, accompanied by the slow buck of his hips against your ass, slowly stinking in the warmth tightness of your cunt that fluttered wildly, from the thrill of being heard... or perhaps his skills were still unmatched.
Toji picks up the pace once again, your moans present and accompanied by the wet sound of skin slapping “the lady here is quite busy, why don’t you call back later.”
“why don’t you fuck off, let me speak to her” your ex exclaims, quite agitated as realization starts to set in his features. a shrug is the only response Toji gives, followed by a soft chuckle, big fingers tightening in your forehead and a couple hair strands before pulling up, your face a complete mess of tears and drool, mascara running down your cheeks for your ex to see through the screen, the older men’s mess created on your trembling body, desperate to cum around his fat cock, his own face coming into the frame as he leans down against your shoulder.
“like I told you, man, she is quite busy right now”
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SUKUNA
a raised brow is the only reaction your phone gets from Sukuna, a hand tightly gripping your hips, mercilessly pounding your pussy while the other holds the device up, scanning it with a slight smirk before tossing it to you.
“answer” is what he says, still smirking to himself as he slides a hand under your thigh, forcing your hips to rise off the bed as he continues to fuck you deep, messily staining your asscheeks with the slick and precum that oozes out of your hole, “c’mon, i’m getting quite irritated to hear that ringtone, answer and end with it” your boyfriend huffs, although there was a hint of mischief underneath, and you never really trusted his sudden ‘kind’ behaviors.
you swallow deeply, attempting to maintain your voice steadily as you pick up your ex’s phone call, his voice immediately coming into your ears, as well as Sukuna’s deep rumble coming from the bottom of his throat.
and you really should have expected it, for Sukuna to bend down, cup your thighs and force you into a mating press, growling in delight at the way your eyes flutter close, voice stutters and pussy clamps around his cock, gripping him like a vice.
it’s a sharp squeal that comes from your lips, one that is quickly quieted down by his hand on your mouth, giving you a knowing look before retreating it, “behave, finish the call, and i’ll let you cum” he rasps, breath hot and fanning over your neck, sending shivers down your spine while your ex’s voice remains unheard and unimportant in the back.
reduced to being patient, you can only exhale shakily, the phone in your hand about to snap from the tight grip on it, perhaps just like your hips from the intensity of Sukuna’s thrusts on you, making your body bounce on the bed by how hard his cocks drives into the depths of your cunt, positively scraping across your g-spot as you felt your brain shortcut each time.
not even paying attention to your ex, you barely mutter a couple ‘mhm’s constantly, not aware of what you’ve agreed or refused to as your phone calls ends with a hurried “thank you, baby!” from your ex, or at least you think the call has ended as your phone drops to the floor, not really caring as your nails dig on your boyfriend’s back, your moans finally coming freely.
“that’s a good girl, now cum all over your boyfriend’s cock” Sukuna growls, putting an extra accent in the word boyfriend, but you didn’t pay attention to it.
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SATORU
it spurs Satoru to know your ex is most definitely hearing your desperate cries of pleasure, it brings him a sense of power, bursts his ego and only urges him into fucking you harder.
it’s not a surprise for you when Satoru goes hard, he often tends to go pussydrunk and pounds you nonstop until himself is panting and growling in pleasure, with sweat dripping down his body and prints of his fingers on your body.
the thing that does surprise you is how vocal he becomes, not by moaning, but by speaking.
“does it feel good, angel?” “you want me to keep going, yeah? right there? oh such a good girl, I can feel your cute pussy clamping on me” he growls, making your whimpers only increase by each raspy word coming out of your boyfriend.
your moans turn into high pitched whines, the rhythmically sound of skin meeting into heavy, wet and erratic slaps of sweat and precum coated skin, and your phone marks 20 minutes ever since he picked up the call for you; you really got a thing for picking pervert boyfriends.
“only I can make you feel this way, hm?” Satoru grins, picking up your phone and closing the phone app, keeping it in the background as he opens the camera, “you’re so wet, can feel you twitching around me” he smirks, biting on the tip of his tongue to conceal a chuckle in delight how you tighten up, thighs shaking and chest heaving.
“come, baby, need to feel you cumming around my cock, make a mess, my love, and let me keep this beautiful pic forever”
it doesn’t take much before your orgasm takes over, and Satoru is quick to follow behind, splattering his thick cum all over your lower belly that manages to get captured by your phone camera.
“so pretty, this will work wonderfully for when the pest decide to continue bothering you”
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7K notes · View notes
l13 · 11 months
Text
♡ uh-huh ♡
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thinking about pussy drunk!miguel who agrees to everything you say as long as you keep fucking him like that<33
WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ ONLY, SPOILERS? i guess?, NO use of y/n f!reader, rough unprotected sex, riding, swearing, ooc!miguel probably, messy & lazy writing you already know:)), not proofread
a/n : it's been a LOOONG time since I wrote smut so please keep in mind that it's gonna be trash LMFAO (also i know i have a ton of requests in my inbox but i couldn't help myself with this man, this just came to me)
English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.
banner credit : @cafekitsune
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“Miguel, are you even listening to me?” you pout down at him, the rolling of your hips never stopping.
“Shit-not particularly no.” he hisses when he feels you squeeze around him, and you run your hands up and down his chest as you tilt your head. “Miles has a point y'know. Maybe you should hear him out.”
Miguel is so lost at the feel of your pussy that he can hardly hear anything beside the sound of skin meeting skin, and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He can barely keep his eyes open, but he forces himself just to watch your pretty cunt swallow up his cock greedily, his mouth open and brows furrowed prettily.
“Miguel!” you whine out both in exasperation and pleasure, and he groans out your own name lowly, raising his hips to meet the rolls of your own. “Just like that, bebita, s'fucking good f'r me..”
“You're still-fuck- not listening…” you moan, grinding down at him, feeling tears gather in your eyes when you see Miguel lick the pad of his thumb, eyes hooded and so fucking dumb, just to bring his hand to your clit and rub figure eights messily. 
“How can I? Pussy's squeezing me so well- mierda.. y're killin' me,” he clamps a hand on your hip to help guide you against his cock, his other messing up his hair as he runs it through his damp locks, sweat running down his eyebrow. 
He lets out the prettiest moan when he looks up at you, having half the mind to bend you over and rail you till he's given you everything. You, with your perfect tits bouncing with each roll and grind of your hips, paired with that teasing smile of yours, is enough to make a grown man cry.
“Gimme a kiss,” he utters, and you grin as you lower yourself, your tits getting squished against his chest. He grabs the side of your head, your breathing mixing together as you come impossibly close. Just as your lips are about to touch, you pull back the slightest bit and his eyebrows give the slightest twitch.
“Are you gonna give Miles a chance?” he groans and pushes his head away childishly, “Can you please not talk about that kid when we're fucking? Jesus.” 
You slow the rolls of your hips, before coming to a full stop, your shoulders shaking as you laugh against his neck. “I didn’t hear a no..” you raise your head to catch his gaze, to find that he’s purposefully not meeting your eyes, jaw locked stubbornly. 
“No. Now can we please go back to you riding me? That’d be great.”
“Well, you’re not listening to me, so why should I?”
“Are you serious? We really gonna do this? Now?”
You shrug, clamping down on him suddenly, and he sputters, cock pulsing appreciatively. “That’s not fair.” he grits his teeth.
“What’s not fair is wanting to save your loved ones but being told no by some ridiculous universal rule that-mmf” your rambling gets cut off as Miguel kisses you, thrusting up at you hard. His tongue muffles your moans as he continues pistoning his cock in and out of your pussy, keeping you in place with a hand on your ass.
“You know why I can’t, bebita, don’t make me do this..” he hisses out, trying to concentrate on fucking you till you forget all about that stupid kid. 
“What if- oh fffuck,” you moan, eyes rolling back as he keeps hitting that one spot deep inside your pussy, “What if it was me?” your question seems to catch him off guard as he halts all movements “What?”
Miguel knew the consequences of his actions, and he’d learned them the hard way. He wasn’t heartless, he knew what that kid was going through was hard, and it was about to become a lot worse. You asking him to put you in that situation, even if it was imaginary, made his mind short-circuit. He couldn’t lose you, ever. But he also knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. This was bigger than you and him. The whole multiverse as you know it would be at stake. But he’d find a way. He’d find a way for you. If there was a way, then maybe… he could try to hear Miles out. (he hated himself for even admitting that inside his head)
“Wouldn’t you try to save me baby?” with his concentration slipping, you got the chance to take back full control, as you started bouncing on his cock at a bruising pace, “Save this pussy?” the whimper Miguel let out was a good enough answer, but you were greedy. “Huh, baby?”
“Uh-huh, yeah.. ffuck yes, would turn the whole world upside down f’r you…. Please, Oh fuck please, just keep fuckin’ me like that…” the sounds coming out of him turned feral- and he didn’t even realize you positioned his hands over your tits, till he squeezed the supple flesh in his hands and moaned, the muscles in his arms flexing violently.
“Yeah? Not gonna let me go, baby?” you laugh giddily, leaning back to support yourself with your hands on his thick thighs, circling your hips as he’s balls deep inside you.
His hands slide around your back when he sits up suddenly, and you gasp, clawing at his shoulders for support, and he snarls “Never.”
The pace you both set has both of you panting and moaning uncontrollably, with you grinding your hips down to meet his each time he thrusts up, his fat balls slapping your ass every single time.
“Who knows,” you feel Miguel utter against your hair, “maybe I’d let the whole fuckin’ universe collapse for you, cariño..” A shiver runs down your spine and you throw your head back and moan. He chuckles breathlessly, groaning when he feels you clamp around him impossibly tight. “Shit, that’s bad, huh? Maybe I should change careers-fuck,”
“Are you gonna come, baby? Cause ‘m coming for you, gonna fill you up so well,”
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2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
11K notes · View notes
aaagustd · 1 month
Text
make it cute | jeon jungkook
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title: make it cute
pairing: jeon jungkook x (f)reader
genre/rating: smut, pwp, 18+
summary: if jungkook loans someone money, he expects to be paid with just that. but tonight, he just might make an exception.
wc: 1.5k
warnings: infidelity, swearing, mentions ransoms and everything that comes with that (threats, m*rder, etc), pictures??, consensual g*n play (more like oral but yeah), sloppy bl*wjob/deep throating, consent bc it’s sexy, pet names, degradation, m*sturbation, facial c*m shot, dirty talk, slight power play, obedience kink, hair pulling, face f*cking, unedited, that should be all
release date: march 15th, 2024; 10:55pm est
note: idk why or how i came up with this trash lol. i was bored and wanted to take a break from writing my other stuff. i hope you enjoy. divider by cafekitsune.
inbox | m.list | join my taglist | read on ao3
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“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”
Jungkook can feel his pants getting tighter with each second he stands there watching you slurp on the barrel of his gun. He’s done some sick shit in his life, but this—this was your idea.
“You’re deadass enjoying this, aren’t you?” 
He can tell by how you’re rubbing your clit and pinching your stiff nipples.
“M-Mhm,” you choke out a moan as you devour the cold steel buried in your throat.
He can’t lie and say he isn’t impressed, or turned on. But this is strictly business. Your darling husband owes him a lot of money, and he’s going to pay it if he wants his little trophy home by dinner.
Otherwise, he’d be glad to keep you here in his bedroom.
With an ass like yours, Jungkook wouldn’t let you out of his sight if you were his. You’d be on his lap no matter the time or the place. You don’t let this kind of pussy off the leash in this world. This guy’s an idiot.
He can only imagine what those soft lips would look like wrapped around his dick. He’s twitching at the thought of it.
As if you are reading his mind, your hand leaves your soaking wet panties, and you place it directly on his Armani-covered crotch. A hiss pushes through his clenched teeth, biting back the urge to curse at you for your carelessness. 
Your mouth filled to capacity, but he knows what you’re asking for. 
“Hey!”
Jungkook isn’t a gentle man, but he’s careful to not snap your neck when he grips your hair and pulls your head back—removing your bruised lips from his gun. Your lungs suddenly become filled with air, leaving you desperate to catch your breath. Your coughs nearly drown out the sound of his own voice.
“Look at me,” he orders, and those blown out watery eyes find his face instantly.
Sexy and obedient. Yeah, he definitely has a problem on his hands.
“Are you sure this is what you want? I just want my money—”
“Fuck my throat.”
“Pardon?”
He heard you. Even though your voice is rough and hoarse, he didn’t miss a beat. He’s just stunned.
“My throat…Shove it down my throat, please.”
Please. 
You didn’t have to add that part. He was already getting ready to take his dick out.
“Well, shit.”
Jungkook quickly places his gun on the dresser and starts unbuckling his pants. He steals glances at you waiting patiently on your knees like a good little slut. The sight has him fidgeting like a virgin.
Once he frees himself from the confinement of his trousers, his dick springs out and reveals itself to your expecting eyes. A smirk grows on his face as he watches you gawk over his size. Whatever you were expecting, he’s exceeded that.
“Bit off more than you can chew, huh?”
You seem offended by his assumption. The look you give him says exactly that.
“Not at all,” you reply, adjusting yourself to align with his midsection. “May I?”
He grants you permission to touch, and you waste no time wrapping your smooth hand around him. You stroke it as you marvel over the raised veins that climb up to the reddened tip, licking your lips like you’re sitting before a feast.
“Don’t fuck around, kay? I still got a bullet with your name on it, princess.”
You heed his warning and move closer, sizing him up to see how much you can actually fit in your mouth.
“Sorry,” you whisper, and he shudders.
That manners might get you on the winning team; if you play your cards right. 
“No sweat, beautiful. Keep going.”
It’s probably the first time he’s said something that sincere, but honestly, he’s just trying to get gobbled up before he cums all over his freshly waxed floors. His men are probably wondering what the hell is taking so long. For all they know, you had to go to the bathroom.
Jungkook almost yells out when warm wetness surrounds his throbbing dick like a compress. His mind struggles to comprehend what to do. He isn’t sure if he should just let you take over, but he’s not able to thrust even if he wanted to. He can’t move. The way you’re slurping him up, he might even be able to walk after this.
“Easy,” he warns.
You look at him and raise your eyebrow, finally displaying a hint of cockiness. 
Jungkook pulls himself together and finds his bearings because there isn’t a chance in hell he’s going to boost your ego anymore than he already has.
“Fine,” he grunts. “You wanna play rough, I’ll teach you.”
His hands venture to the back of your head, giving him full control of your intake. Your eyes stay glued to him as he harshly uses his grip to push your mouth into his swift thrusts. You begin to gag and choke, dripping spit all over his dick and the floor—but he doesn’t mind.
It’s not like he has to clean it up.
“Goddamn. Who’s training this throat, hm?” He buries himself in your throat, making your face collide with his crotch. “Your hubby?”
When he hears your gurgled reply he pulls away and allows you to speak. Through your panting, you give him a solid response. One he’s sure you’ve never shared with your husband.
“I’ll suck him dry every night before I let him cum in me.”
Jungkook nods. “Smart woman.”
But he doesn’t give a shit what you do with that pretty pussy. Right now, your services are needed elsewhere.
“Come here.”
Hopefully, you were able to take a breath because Jungkook’s dick can’t hold back anymore.
You two had a deal, and he’s going to uphold his part as you did yours. You complied, now it’s time to send your sweet husband some face shots so he knows Jungkook isn’t fucking around. It’s been a month since the funds were due. 
It’s time to pay up. One way, or another.
“Fuck!”
He curses each time his cock hits the back of your throat, suddenly feeling his muscles tense up from the pressure building inside. The sweat building up on his forehead slowly starts to roll down his face, but he’s too occupied to wipe it off. 
Your warmth has him hunched over and leaning on his toes, his mouth in an O-shape as he comes closer to release. While he’s pulling in and out of you, he catches a glimpse of your juicy cunt being filled with your fingers, your body squirming and seeking the same relief he’s chasing.
Both of your moans fill the room as you reach the peak of your highs. Your eyes roll back as your body stiffens. Jungkook knows exactly what’s going on with you, and as you’re riding out the waves of your orgasm, he waits for the perfect moment to pull out and paint you with his seed.
The time comes when you’re no longer able to control your breathing, and you’re desperately looking for air after you’ve finally come down. It’s not a second too soon because Jungkook cannot bear another dive into your wet mouth. 
He removes his dick and gives it a couple of quick strokes before his cum begins to squirt all over your pretty face. You sigh delightfully as he covers you with a warm blanket of his cum.
It’s everywhere, but he kept his promise and didn’t get any in your hair.
“Ready?” Jungkook asks, still out of breath.
“I am.”
Jungkook slips his phone out of his back pocket and finds his camera. He positions it in front of your face, and he’s amused by your exhausted smile.
“Is my hair okay?” you ask him, and this time he actually has to chuckle.
Since you’ve made his night a little better, he does a quick job smoothing down flyaways and kinks. Honestly, he didn’t have to because you look hot already. Hair messy, tits out, with his kids all over your face and the expensive diamond necklace your husband bought you.
He can’t think of a more perfect image.
You pose provocatively as he takes a few pictures, and when he’s done, he finally guides you to the bathroom. He instructed you to take your time and take as long as you need to freshen up while he sits on the bed to make this official.
He opens his messages and finds the contact he’s searching for within a minute. A mischievous grin slowly begins to form on his face as he taps the latest images in his camera roll, sending his debtor a little message to stir the pot.
03:14 am Sent: img.788, img.789….
03:14 am Sent: at the spot fucking your bitch. bring my money and i might let you borrow her again.
He’s lying. You’re staying right here, or you can join your husband in the little bed his men made for him.
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hazelfoureyes · 2 months
Text
The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)
I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.
It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time
tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b
When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.
It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆
Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!
I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.
The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.
Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.
And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.
“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.
“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”
“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.
Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”
“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”
Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”
Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.
Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”
“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.
“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”
Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”
Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”
Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.
What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.
“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.
“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”
He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.
"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.
“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."
Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”
“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”
He sighed, “I’m not.”
Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”
He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”
“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.
Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.
With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.
With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.
His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.
His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”
This is ridiculous.
Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.
Nothing.
"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.
He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.
He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.
Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.
After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.
So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.
It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.
Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.
In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.
But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.
Still.
He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.
He held his breath, unconsciously.
With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.
"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."
Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.
Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.
"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.
"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.
But today, they were soft and out of focus.
"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.
"Am I dreaming?"
He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."
"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"
Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.
Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.
"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."
He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"
You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.
"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.
A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.
“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.
“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.
You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”
His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.
"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.
"When was your last time, mon cher?"
Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."
"You're in hell now."
"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.
"Look at me."
Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.
With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.
Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.
He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?
Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.
He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."
Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.
He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.
A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.
"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.
He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.
No.
Not enough.
Too soon.
A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.
He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.
When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.
Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.
He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.
"My doe?"
Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"
"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."
The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.
"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.
Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"
Suddenly, silence.
The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"
"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.
"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.
"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"
Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.
"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"
"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."
"Yet..." She cocked her brow.
"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."
Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"
"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.
She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"
His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."
He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.
But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?
"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."
Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.
For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.
To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.
He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.
Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.
The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.
One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.
You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.
And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.
Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.
He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.
When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”
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beginningofwonderland · 6 months
Text
Stay Focused - San
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Pairing: university student y/n x office worker San
Genre: smut with plot (MINORS DNI!)
Word Count: 12.5k (I don't know what happened)
Summary: Your mother insists on getting you a tutor for your studies. You want to resist until you meet Choi San, your tutor. His sweet talk and good looks make you focus on anything but your studies and you do everything to finally catch his attention in the same way.
Warnings: San is a few years older (5 to be exact), some nipple play, fingering, some orgasm denial, lots of dirty talk, blowjob (face-fucking leaning), protected sex, mirror sex
The reader in this is so horny omg. Just straight up trash for San (relatable). Also very long build-up.
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"Good is not enough in this family," your mother repeats to you for what feels like the 100th time. „Your grades have to be exceptional if you want to work in my business."
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you change your phone to the other hand to stir your pasta around. You just told her about your recent test results which of course are not satisfactory to her.
The problem is that you are actually doing pretty good. You never missed or failed a class, you passed all your courses with at least a good score and you had even fulfilled additional classes to broaden the spectrum of your studies. But just like she said: Good is not enough for her. She won't shut up about your grades until you reach 100% in all of your classes - which is basically impossible, especially in your field of study.
"Do you even still want to work in the family business?" your mother asks you provokingly. And the problem is, you do. You really do. Your mother is the CEO of a big pharmacy company and ever since you were a kid you followed her interest in chemistry. You even chose your pharmacy major without her influence. But now that you are taking the same path as her, she is all in your business about being the perfect little mini-her.
"I do, mom. I'm working hard on it, I promise. The next exam is in four weeks and I already started studying."
She makes a huffing sound before answering you: "You said that the last three times as well and still didn't get a full score. You should really get a tutor."
"Mom! I'm the best in my class. Why should I get a tutor? I'm doing great!" You are glad you're only talking to her on the phone so that she doesn't see the way your hands clasps over your face. She can't be serious with you. Getting a tutor with your grades is just embarrassing.
"But not great enough. You know what? The son of a close business partner recently started working at the company. He graduated a few years ago with an honour's degree and seems to be a very promising young man. I'll ask him to tutor you."
Your cheeks start to heat up just at the thought of how embarrassing the whole thing will be for you. Getting a tutor that worked for your mother is literally the worst case scenario. You feel like a high school student that doesn't pay attention in school and now gets scolded for it.
"I do not need a tutor, mom." You state once again but her mind is already made up.
"I'll give him your number and he will contact you. And don't you dare be rude to him, his father is very important for our business!"
You can't believe her words. Since when have you ever been rude to anyone she introduced you to? Your mother ends the call before you can protest any more.
Angrily, you fish a single spaghetti out of your pot to taste it. It's perfectly cooked when you munch on it in annoyance.
--------------------------------
This is Choi San.
Your mother told me you needed tutoring on your pharmacy classes and gave me your schedule.
I can teach you Tuesday and Thursday afternoon from 6PM. Would that work for you?
You fall back onto bed with a frustrated groan as you read the messages. She really asked him. Now you have no choice but agree to him tutoring you because your mother would kill you otherwise.
Typing a reply you take a deep breath. This will be such a waste of time for the both of you.
Hello! Tuesdays and Thursdays are good. Thank you so much.
You hate how pathetic you sound. What are you even thanking him for? You don't want him to tutor you and he was definitely forced by your mother so why even play pretend?
No problem. We can use meeting room 117 at the company since I reserved it for us. I'll see you on Tuesday.
You dread Tuesday every single day from now on. When it finally arrives you feel ridiculous as you enter the large building of your mother's company. You have been here countless times but you never thought you would get tutor lessons here.
Even worse is that your mother made you go greet her beforehand. She specifically texted you to visit her office before the appointment with Mr. Choi. You walk past her assistant with a polite greeting and finally enter her office.
The luxurious room sat at the top floor of the building with a nice view over the city. Sometimes you forget how successful her company actually is. It can be quiet intimidating.
"There you are," she greets you with a mere look up from a bunch of files on her desk. "I hope you prepared well for your tutoring session. Please don't embarrass yourself in front of Mr. Choi. His father is an important business partner of mine and he himself seems to be a very promising employee. I don't want my own daughter to make him think worse of the company."
Of course she only worries about the company. The idea that this is incredibly humiliating for her own daughter does not even cross her mind.
"Hello, mom. Of course I prepared well, I always do. I won't disappoint you."
She nods at you, satisfied with your answer before looking at her watch. "Then you should head to the meeting room. He is always ridiculously early for meetings so he's probably waiting for you already."
Great, you think to yourself. You hoped you would be able to grab a coffee beforehand.
"I'll go right away. Bye, mom."
You walk to the elevator with heavy steps and check your own watch. It's still fifteen minutes until 6PM so there's plenty of time to grab a coffee before, no matter what your mother might say.
Entering the elevator you select the floor of the meeting room with the plan to walk to the coffee pantry first. Half-way down, the elevator stops on a different floor. When the doors open you almost choke on your polite "Hello" as your eyes take in the person in front of you.
Walking into the elevator is easily the most attractive man you have ever seen in your life. Dressed in a tight pair of dark pants and a perfectly fitted dress-shirt the handsome stranger repeats your greeting with a small bow and a mind-numbingly attractive smile. His eyes carry a little glimmer even behind the round pair of glasses he wears and as he pushes back his black hair you feel like swooning.
You have to keep yourself from staring when he takes his place in the elevator and both of you wait for it to move. Just now you realize he hasn't pushed a button, which means he is heading to the same floor as you. Out of the corner of your eyes you can't help but watch him.
He is a few inches taller than you but appears even bigger due to his broad frame. You wonder where that man even finds clothes that fit his stature with his broad shoulders and tiny waist. He checks his most definitely expensive wrist watch before looking at the display counting down the floors.
When the elevator doors open with a ding, you almost jolt. You were so caught up in thinking about how good he looks that you didn't even notice arriving on your floor. The handsome man gestures for you to step out first with another deadly smile in your direction.
"Thank you," you barely breath out as you step out of the elevator in front of him. It feels like the air outside is ten degrees colder. Without looking back you head to the pantry of the floor. You need a coffee even more than before now that you can only think of that guy from the elevator. There is no way you can concentrate on tutoring now without some caffeine.
The benefit of being the CEO's daughter is having a card with unlimited access to the coffee machines so you happily press the button for a black coffee. At the familiar buzzing sound you can finally relax and take a deep breath. No man has ever made you so flustered before just by existing. Maybe you should visit the office more often if that was the kind of employees your mother hired.
Taking your coffee into one hand and your study bag into the other you turn around to head to the meeting room. Caught up deeply in your thoughts you almost run head first into the person behind you.
"Woah, careful there. You don't want to spill that coffee do you?" his voice is smooth like honey, with a joking tone to it. You blink up at him a few times before you find your words.
"I'm sorry. I was distracted."
The man from the elevator smiles at you and you feel your body warming up from the inside out.
"Don't worry, nothing happened." He looks you up and down quickly before holding eye contact once again.
"Excuse the question, but do you happen to be director Kim's daughter?"
You stare at him in confusion. "Yes. Yes, I am. How did you know?"
He moves past you, grabbing a cup from the pantry himself and turning on the coffee machine before he answers:
"You share her eyes. But more importantly, your bag has a pin of the pharmacy faculty of the university and because I'm supposed to meet her daughter for tutoring on this floor in - " he checks his watch again: "exactly 12 minutes, I figured it might be you."
You are impressed. His looks are already enough to have your eyes turn into hearts but there is probably nothing that makes a man more attractive to you than his wit. But what hits you even more than that is the fact that THIS was your tutor.
I take everything back mom, I love tutoring. Sign me up for another year.
"Well, you figured correctly," you reply weakly, at a loss for words. "Nice to meet you Mr. Choi."
You put your cup on the pantry table to reach your hand out to him. He takes it with a smile.
"Nice to meet you too, Miss Kim. I was going to get the two of us some coffee but as I can see you already helped yourself."
Oh, so he's a gentleman as well.
"Next time you should let me take care of that," you said showing him your free access card. "I happen to own the key to infinite coffee."
"Does the caffeine addiction come for free with that as well?" You chuckle at his joke.
"I think it's the requirement to get it in the first place."
"Well then I will happily let you get us coffee next time."
Next time, you think. The reality that you will be seeing this man on a regular basis hits you.
For a second the two of you just smile at each other. Then Mr. Choi notices that his coffee is done and he grabs the cup.
"Let's head to the meeting room then. I wouldn't want to waste your time."
You sir, can waste my time any day of the week, you think to yourself but obviously keep silent as you follow him to the room.
He holds the door open for you and you settle down onto one of the meeting chairs. You always hated these things. They are designed to make you sit upright and therefore terribly uncomfortable. You desperately want to fold one of your legs under yourself like you always do at home but you have a good image to keep. After taking a seat across from you he puts his bag onto the table and looks at you expectantly.
"So what topics exactly are you struggling with? It's been a while for me but I'm sure I can help."
"To be honest with you, I don't really need help on anything."
San raises his eyebrows behind the round glasses on his nose. "What do you mean?"
You sigh, not knowing how to explain this dilemma best. "My mother made me get a tutor because she believes I need better grades. In fact I'm the best of my year with perfect attendance and an average of 95%. She says that everything under 100% is not enough which is why she must have thought of you as a tutor."
San just stares at you with a peculiar look on his face. He looks almost impressed from your words.
"I knew director Kim could be quite strict but I had never imagined that extent. I'm sorry she made you do this, a 95% average is very impressive in the pharmacy field."
"Says someone with a perfect 100% graduation," you snap back, a little more spiteful than you want to. But San doesn't seem to take it the wrong way. Instead he chuckles in response. The sound sends shivers down your spine, his voice dipping way lower than you had expected it could.
"Trust me, that wasn't all brains. I only know my way around people." You don't doubt that last statement for even a second.
"Maybe instead of teaching I can give you some tips around the university. That would probably help you more."
Now you are interested.
"What kind of tips for example?" You lean forward resting an elbow on the table as you pick your cup of coffee up for a sip. It's still burning hot but you pretend you didn't just burn your tongue as you set it back down.
"Does Mr. Han still do the medicine lectures? He's been using the same exam template for years. Pharmacy students are just to selfish to share the results with the younger students. I'll look for my old exams later to give them to you."
Your mouth opens in awe. Everyone from the year above had told you Mr Han's exams were the hardest and it turns out they were just lying to intimidate you. The competition was real.
"These fuckers," you mumble beneath your breath but judging by his chuckle, San heard you just fine.
"Sorry," you excuse your language immediately with a small nod. He is still an employee under your mother and she told you explicitly to act well around him. Hiding your uneasiness you go for another scolding sip of coffee.
"Don't worry, darling. I won't go complaining to your mother about your language. You don't need to be her perfect little girl for me."
You almost choke on your coffee and have to force the liquid down your throat with an effort. You really wish they didn't but his words made your insides squirm. The amount of money you'd pay him to call you 'darling' again is surely an embarrassing amount. But good little girl also didn't sound too bad from his mouth.
"Thanks," you mumble, not knowing what else to say and stare onto the table to hide your flushing face. If you look at him with those slutty, round glasses right now, you're sure you'll combust.
You don't notice, but Mr. Choi eyes you up and down carefully before he resumes speaking. He smiles at your flustered state that obviously doesn't escape his sharp senses. Seeing your pretty face flush from only these few words, satisfies him deeply.
"Then how about that toxicology class? If Mr. Lim still teaches it, I know a few ways to get on his good side. He always picks favourites and it shows in the grades."
Mr. Choi continues listing off ways to better your grades around your professors. You can't help but be impressed. Not only is he obviously very intelligent but also great with people. Maybe what kept you from exceeding in your studies was your rather reserved nature in class.
"How about this," Mr. Choi finally proposes after teaching you some of his ways. "I'll get you my old notes and exams and with that you will surely ace all your tests. Then we can meet up for these tutoring sessions and while you study in peace I can get some work done. This way your mother is happy and we both profit from the situation."
You nod without hesitation. "That sounds like a great idea. Thank you so much, Mr. Choi."
He groans at your words, a sound that makes you react in a way you don't even want to put into words.
"Please don't call me Mr. Choi when we're alone that makes me feel terribly old. My name is San."
"Aren't you older than me though?" you ask back carefully. It doesn't feel right to call him by his first name.
"If 5 years are old to you?" he inquires with a slight teasing edge to his voice. You don't know if he's flirting with you or if you are just becoming a witness to this man's effortless social skills.
Truthfully, you are 22 and 5 years more don't seem that much to you. Still his way with words and the confident aura around him make him seem more mature.
"I didn't say old. Just older."
He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, leisurely resting one of his elbows on the backrest behind him. "Just call me San, darling."
There it is again. That word single-handedly turns you into a blushing mess within seconds and you find yourself agreeing without another thought.
"Okay, San."
A satisfied smile spreads on his face and you marvel at the dimples that form on his cheeks. "Much better. Than how about you do some studying and I'll get some work done now?"
"Sounds good," you reply and start taking out your classwork. He could've told you to start stripping right now and you would've agreed without question. Damn you are down bad for him already...
It is a weird situation at first. You are used to studying around strangers in the library, but sitting alone in a room with San makes it hard to focus on your upcoming test. His eyes keep flicking from his work laptop across to you and you don't know if he's interest in the topic you're studying or you.
You yourself on the other hand are surely interested in him and you can't help but steal a few glances at him working diligently at his laptop every now and then. Even typing on his keyboard looks ridiculously hot on him with the way his slender fingers run over the keys.
After about two hours of you trying to keep your eyes on your notes San finally closes his laptop and stares at you until you reciprocate his look.
"I guess two hours is enough to make your mother think you studied, right?" he asks with one corner of his mouth slightly lifted.
"Sure," you respond weakly.
"I'll look for my old tests and will bring them on Thursday," he goes on as he stands up to pack up his laptop and bag. You also start gathering your study books.
"Thank you again," you answer lamely. But the promise of already seeing him again on Thursday excites you.
When you proceed to grab your now empty coffee cup his hands react quickly as he snatches it from you.
"Don't worry about that, I'll put those away," he's leaning over the table now, smiling at you through slightly closed eyes and you can't help but be entranced by his looks. "You should make sure to get home before it's dark outside. Want you to get home safely."
"Don't worry about me, I'll manage."
"Oh but I won't if something happens to you and your mother finds out you were last seen with me," he replies cockily as you two finally go to the door.
You have to chuckle at his remark. "Good to know I'm not the only one terrified of her."
"Everyone is terrified of her," he mumbles under his breath but you are already reaching the coffee pantry - aka your cue to go home.
"Can we use the same room on Thursday?" you ask as you stop in front of him. You make sure to brush your hair behind your ear in a nonchalant manner, knowing it shows your good angles.
"Yeah, I already booked it," San replies easily, eyes fixing yours from above. "But let's meet at the coffee machine here. I want to at least take advantage of that free coffee if I give you all my study secrets."
He winks at you at the last part of the sentence and it makes your insides twirl like on a rollercoaster. You give him a small smile through fluttering lashes. "So that's what you meant with a win-win situation: Endless coffee. Well it looks like I don't have a choice but to be your personal coffee machine."
You want to punch yourself right after that sentence leaves your mouth. How much more stupid could you possibly sound? Personal coffee machine. Saying you wanted to be his personal slut would have been less embarrassing.
But San doesn't seem to mind your awkward response. "Sounds good to me," he replies smoothly. "Then have a good ride home and I'll see you on Thursday."
"Until Thursday," you reply before you can say something stupid again and stroll off to the elevator with a small wave.
As soon as the doors close behind you, your head thumps against the steel wall. There is no way you will get any studying done with that man in the same room as you.
---------------------
Your next few meetings with San go on smoothly. You are always on time but he is still earlier than you, waiting for you at the coffee machine. You get both of you a coffee - sometimes two if you feel like it - and you two get to work in a comfortable silence sitting opposite to each other in the meeting room.
After San brought you his old exams you can now prepare exactly what you need to know for your next tests. But no matter how hard you try to focus on your studies, your eyes keep wandering from your books up to the handsome man working on his laptop.
You soon notice his seemingly endless closet full of tailored dressing shirts and perfectly matching pants. He always looks immaculate, not a single wrinkle on his shirt and his hair always neatly combed back. Even his skin is flawless to the point that you start questioning if Choi San might be a figment of your imagination.
Just like his outer appearance, his manners are immaculate. Like you already noticed on your first meeting, he is a sweet talker. Always knowing the right thing to say and never letting your conversation end in awkwardness.
Whenever he feels like taking a break you notice him starting to talk to you. At first he asks how your studies are going. Then he wanders off to the professors you two shared and how he managed to ace all his classes.
Your whole attention is glued to his lips. For one thing because the information he can provide you with is crucial to your academic development but much more importantly because his lips are the prettiest thing you have ever seen. They look so plump and smooth while he's talking that your mind can't help but wander to the other things he might be able to do with them besides talking.
If at your first meeting you were down bad for Choi San, one month later you felt like you were drowning and he was the last bit of oxygen left on earth. You wanted him with a passion that you didn't even know you were capable of.
But you couldn't have him. There was too much at stake. He still worked for your mother and if you made a move on him that he wouldn't reciprocate you would risk the eternal hate of the only woman that still held control over your life. And so far San hadn't shown any sign of feeling the same way about you that you did for him.
„You're stuck on that?" San suddenly asks you over the page of biochemistry that you've been staring at for a solid five minutes. You haven't spared a single thought on the topic in front of you. Your mind is only occupied by the thought of San leaning over you on the meeting chair, your chin in between his slender fingers as he smirks down at you. You hate him for having this effect on you when you so desperately need to focus on your studies.
You really need to get your thoughts together.
„Oh no I was just getting carried away," you answer, looking at him pointedly with a sly smile.
You tried little attacks like this on him before. A casual pull down of your shirt, stretching your arms to make it ride up over your stomach or even looking directly at his lips as he spoke. But no matter how daring you get you can never catch San slipping.
His eyes stay on yours only whenever he looks at you, his tone is always polite and never goes farther than a casual joke. You simply can't draw a single reaction from him and it drives you insane.
„Do you need a small break? We could get another coffee," he offers helpfully.
I don't want a damn coffee I want you to fuck me on this meeting table.
"I'd love to, but I'm already way too warm today. I fear the AC can't fight against the heat anymore."
It has gotten exponentially hotter over the past days and you can feel it even inside the modern building.
"You're right, it's quite hot in here," San says with a disappointed face. "What a shame we don't have iced coffee. We should get some on Tuesday!"
His eyes light up in excitement and this little sliver of pure happiness doesn't escape you. It's surprising how cute he can be with that shamelessly hot body of his.
"Do you know a place near?" You ask to drag on the conversation. You yourself know at least 3 cafés in the area that sell iced coffee but you want San to tell you a place. Maybe his favourite. So that you can go and think of him.
"Yes, I can show you!" he answers proudly.
"I'd love to." You send him a gentle smile with long eye contact before both of you look back at your work.
But your concentration withers away like the dying plant in the corner of the room when Choi San begins undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves.
You know you shouldn't but your eyes immediately watch as his slender fingers start neatly folding up his sleeves. The muscles in his underarms dance beneath his skin as inch after inch of skin gets revealed.
You feel like a medieval man salivating over exposed ankles as you stare at San's arms. The veins are protruding in the heat and his honey skin is glistening under the bland neon lights.
Your heartbeat quickens and it's mostly because it feels like you finally found San slipping. Him rolling up his sleeves is like a crack in his perfect mask and you are certain that he wouldn't do it anywhere else in the company. He only does this because he is with you.
"Shoot," he suddenly exclaims and draws your attention up to his face. You catch the small pout that appears on his lips before he looks back at you.
"What is it?" you ask him.
"I forgot to book the meeting room for Tuesday and now everything is blocked. There is a work event next week. I should've booked it earlier."
"Oh," you simply reply. This is even more confusing. You don't believe that San would ever forget such an important event. Is he trying to get rid of you?
"Don't worry about it, darling." His smirk and the nickname has you fighting for air. "I'll find us something else."
You can only nod at him with a smile. Maybe he isn't trying to get rid of you.
The rest of your study/work time flies by as your mind thinks of all the possible meeting places you and San could have for Tuesday. You feel like a highschool girl dreaming about dates with your crush but you don't care. The man that is supposed to be tutoring you just makes your heart speed up in a way that you haven't experienced ever before.
When your meeting time comes to an end and San starts packing up his stuff he simply says: "How about we meet at my place next time? I don't like working in cafés it's always so crowded and noisy. And I have coffee too."
You snap up at him in surprise at the proposal. "Sure," you reply as nonchalantly as you can at the prospect of going to Choi San's apartment. Alone. With him.
"I can pick you up here with my car after work. So you don't have any extra way."
"That sounds good," you reply with a small smile, trying not to sound too excited.
"Then until next week," he says with one of his handsome smiles and you say your goodbyes before you can turn even redder in his presence.
When you walk onto the elevator this time and the door closes behind you, your heart is pounding into your throat. As the realization sets in that you will be alone with Choi San in his apartment a satisfied smile set over your face. Oh you will use that chance for sure.
----------------------
You spend the entire day preparing for your tutor appointment with San. Something deep inside you tells you that this behaviour is ridiculous but you push this inner voice back down as you play your favourite music and get ready.
You wear your hair in light waves and put on makeup to bring out your eyes but not look overly done up. Your outfit was a tricky matter but you settled on a classic pleated skirt and a tight long-sleeve. Everything about your appearance today lands on the thin line between innocent and suggestive and you are satisfied when you twirl around in front of the mirror.
All you want is one small reaction out of the man that you have thirsted for over the past weeks. If Choi San even so much as lets his eyes scan you up and down, your mission would be successful. Lost in your task of getting ready you almost forget to actually pack your study books before heading to your mothers company.
You two agreed on San picking you up at the company's garage. So you are taking down the elevator to the parking floor and checking yourself one last time in your phone camera before stepping into the parking lot.
Having no idea how his car looks like you pull up your chat with San, wanting to ask him where to go. But before you can type your message a calm voice calls you over from across the parking lot.
"Y/n!"
You turn around to a sight that makes your heart flutter. San is leaning onto his car, a chic black Mercedes. His white dress shirt has one button unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up again. His feet are crossed over each other leisurely as he waits for you to come over.
Walking up to him you have to try real hard to look casual and not like your nerves are taking over you with the impending situation of being in the same car as San for an undefined amount of time. Your heart is beating already and he hasn't even called you any nicknames yet.
"Hello, San. You're not wearing glasses today?" you notice in surprise and hope it doesn't come off as too attentive.
"Sometimes I wear contacts," he replies smoothly. "It's a styling decision."
While you love the glasses on San seeing him without has a different charm to it. Almost like he is showing you a different side of him.
"Ready to go?" you ask him to keep the conversation going and you're almost proud of your nonchalant tone.
"Ready when you are," he replies with a light smile and walks around the car to open the door for you.
Of course he opens the door for me.
Before you can get in he also takes your bag from you to store it in the back. You want to refuse but one of his smiles finally makes you give in and you hand him the bag. Finally, you thank him and sit down in the passenger seat. The car looks even nicer on the inside: leather seats and perfectly clean. Something inside you starts questioning where this man hides his flaws since noone can possibly be this perfect at all times.
"It's only a 20 minute drive," San explains as he gets into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. You can't help but watch his hands as he manages the gearshift. But as he turns around to look for obstacles his eyes get stuck on you. For a second you think you got him. That his eyes linger on you for a little too long because you finally pulled a reaction out of him.
"You haven't even put your seatbelt on, darling."
And with that your mind is blank. Simple emptiness.
Before you can react, his hand reaches past you, grabbing the seatbelt and plugging it in. His hand doesn't so much as grace your shoulder for a millisecond but you feel like your lungs are constricting.
"Thanks," you breath out before he finally pulls out of the parking spot. He does that wildly attractive thing where he put his hand on the back of the passenger's seat while driving backwards and you feel like losing it already. How will you survive being in the same apartment with this man. San however seems his usual chatty self.
"I'm sorry again for not booking the meeting room in time. I already reserved it for the weeks to come," he starts talking to you.
"Don't worry. I totally don't mind," you answer and regret it immediately. Did that sound too eager? Something about Sam's presence makes you overthink every single word you say.
"I have a fancy coffee machine at home so I can at least return the favour of you getting me coffee all the time."
You smile at that. It feels like this little inside thing between you two how you always use your company privileges to pay for both of your coffee. San thanks you every single time, bringing up how much you save his day.
"I never thought you were that much of a coffee guy at home too," you say trying to get him to tell you more about himself.
"You're acting like I didn't go through pharmacy as well!" He replies with a slightly sulky tone. "No way to survive that major without getting addicted to coffee."
You chuckle at his response. "That's true unfortunately. So you just carried the addiction into your job?"
"You could state it like that but by buying a fancy machine you can just say that coffee is your hobby instead."
Whenever you two talk about mundane topics like this you can't help but be glued to his lips. To get a glimpse of the Choi San that isn't working over-hours all the time and kept up his perfect image at all costs. You want to find out the details about him. Like how he enjoys his coffee or what colour he might like best.
You continue the drive in casual chatter like this before finally reaching your destination. As San pulls into an underground parking lot of an apartment building your heart rate quickens again. Something about seeing his apartment makes you incredibly nervous.
He tells you to wait inside the car after he lets the motor die down so that he can open the door for you again. Even this small gesture has you wrapped around his finger and you smile as you try to step out of the car as gracefully as you can.
San leads you into an elevator and as soon as the doors close you feel reminded of your first meeting. Of how he took your breath away just by standing next to you in such a small space. And now there isn't much difference. He still makes you just as nervous. But at least you can talk to him now.
"How is studying for your exams going so far?" He asks casually.
"It's okay," you reply lamely. "I'm trying my best."
"You know if you actually do need my help you can obviously ask me," he offers alluding to your deal of him basically just getting his own work done instead of tutoring you.
"You've already helped me so much. All I need to do now is actually study," you say turning down his argument.
You idiot, you think to yourself. You could've at least pretended to need his help.
You wait in silence as the remaining floors rush past you. You're surprised with every passing number, wondering what floor San might be living on. But the elevator doesn't stop until the highest floor.
San let's you exit first which makes no sense to you since you don't know where to go. So you wait for him to show you the way to his apartment.
As soon as he unlocks the door and leads you two inside you curiously scan his place. On a first glance it looks almost exactly like you expected: it's very clean and tidy, the furniture is modern and rather minimalistic and the whole place carries a simple colour theme of black and chrome with only hints of colour. The entrance leads straight into an open living room that connects to the kitchen.
"Make yourself at home at the dinner table," San offers while gesturing at the big, black table that looks like straight out of a design magazine.
You both place your shoes neatly at the entrance of his apartment before you take your bag to the table. As you choose a seat from which you can look outside the gigantic window front, San heads over to the kitchen, getting something from a cupboard.
"Can I get you a glass of water before I make some coffee?" He asks you with a kind smile.
"That would be nice," you answer even though water was not what you were craving right now.
He filled one for you and brought it over before returning to the kitchen. "You want your coffee hot or iced?"
"Iced? This is better service than at the company. You should forget to book the meeting room more often." It's a weak attempt at flirting with him but he laughs non the less.
"So iced it is?" He confirms with you again and turns on his electric coffee grinder after you nod approvingly.
It shouldn't captivate you that much, looking at him while he was performing such a basic task as making coffee. But you could watch him for hours, the way his broad back stretches out his dress shirt. The way he moves around so smoothly. The way the muscles in his arms flex as he handles his espresso machine.
You turn towards your study materials just in time before he faces you again, two iced coffees in his hands. He places one gently in front of you before he sits down opposite of you.
"Thank you," you smile at him extra sweetly.
"Anything you want, darling."
You swear to yourself that if he calls you darling one more time you will throw all rational thoughts out of the window and straddle him right here in his stupid designer living room chair. But for now you settle for a coy smile as you feel your cheeks heat up.
To add to your demise, as San drags his chair closer to the table both of your knees touch for a brief second before he casually changes his seating position. The table is narrower than the one in the meeting room and knowing that your legs are mere inches from another makes you even more delusional. What if he did that on purpose?
After that, all concentration for your studies is far gone. It doesn't help at all that the iced coffee he made you was the best you had in ages and with every sip you keep wondering what Choi San isn't good at.
I just know he fucks good there's no other way, you think to yourself but get interrupted in your thoughts.
"Are you stuck on something?" San asks you and you almost don't even dare to raise your eyes to look at him. A kind of shame overcomes you as you realize what you have been thinking about while he worries about your studies.
You sigh to buy yourself time to find an answer that doesn't include: Yes, I'm stuck because I can't think of anything but your body on top of mine.
"Yeah, I just can't seem to concentrate well lately. Maybe I'm stressed out because of my finals."
It isn't fully a lie. Your finals are approaching steadily and with you thirsting over your tutor instead of studying you are indeed starting to worry.
"I would love to tell you that grades don't matter too much but I know your mother won't agree and I will probably face her anger too if you fail," he laughs at the end of his sentence to lighten the mood but quickly notices he only stressed you more by saying that.
"I'm sorry," he quickly retracts. It feels like the first time you caught him messing up his smooth way of talking which in return makes you smile.
"No, you're right. I just never thought about the fact that she will hate both of us if I mess up. What a way to relax."
"I shouldn't have said that," San again apologizes. "I'm sure you will do amazing though. After all you studied so much."
He finishes his sentence with a wink and you must stare at him for a second like an idiot. Did you just imagine that? Or is he alluding to something? Does Choi San know that you thirsted for him this entire fucking time?
But his further actions don't allow you to think much more.
"You look quite tense actually," he continues. "You know it's not good for your back to sit stiff like this for a prolonged amount of time. Your neck must be hurting?"
You have no idea what he is talking about. And your confusion only grows as San gets up from his chair heading in your direction. Every step he comes closer to you has your heart pumping erratically. Even though you dreamed about him being closer to you and finally paying you more attention you are now paralysed at the situation unfolding. Simply being close to him renders your entire body useless.
San steps behind you and, to your absolute shock and amazement, his hands gently grasp your shoulders.
"To compensate the stress from university I took a physiology course that taught us how to massage tense muscles."
As if to proof his words his thumbs gently start rubbing circles into your neck. The warmth of his fingers seeps through your thin shirt and fills your entire body. It feels like he set you on fire with this simple touch.
All of this cannot be real. This must be a figment of your imagination or you actually fell asleep on your study notes while dreaming about San. But his voice sounds very much real when he resumes:
"You have to relax, otherwise I'll hurt you." His voice drops lower than usual and as he gently drapes your hair over one shoulder to get it out of his way you can feel his breath fanning over your neck. Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.
But amid the fire burning in your veins and your clouded mind you actually manage to ease into his fingers and allow him to loosen up your muscles.
"That's a good girl," he rasps behind you and you know you tipped over the edge now. There is no going back from this. You feel like a doll in his hands. His words are electrifying, leaving you unable to utter a single word, to make a single sound. Your mind is running on a state of emergency. Nothing seems to get to you but the fact that San is touching you.
And oh is he good at it. His hands are pressing into all the right places relieving all the pent up tension you built ever since getting ready for this meeting today. If his fingers are already this good at massaging out your stress you can't help but think about what else they can do.
"How do you feel?" He asks. His voice is still low and his tone taunting, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to you.
"Better," you answer. Your voice is merely a whisper. You sound weak, even in your own ears, and wonder if he even heard you.
"Yeah? Then how is this?" With his question his thumbs dip beneath the collar of your shirt and massage your upper back a little lower.
You can't help but close your eyes. The low tone of his voice, his fingers on your skin and the playfulness of his words. All of this is so overwhelming you can only lean back and revel in his touch.
"It feels so good," you manage to breath out when you realize he asked you a question.
He bends down a little, his mouth now right next to your ear. "Should I make you feel even better?"
He is quite literally the devil on your shoulder. Everything in your body screams for you to say yes immediately. The unspoken promise has your entire body on fire and you almost give in to your desire. But a tiny speck of reasonable thinking pulls you back into the dangerous territories you are moving in right now.
"What do you mean?" you ask carefully. You know that this is everything you wanted for the past few weeks but still you can't help being confused about his sudden change.
His left hand wanders from your back to your chin, tilting it to the side so you can look at him. The look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. His pupils are dilated and he is looking at you like he is preying on you. The intensity is something you have never seen in him before.
"You are far too smart to be asking that question, darling," he replies smugly.
"But you were never interested in me?" You ask back and want to hit yourself on the spot. Why are you even asking questions when the man you've desired for weeks finally seems to be making a move on you? But after all he is acting very out of character.
San chuckles, never taking his eyes off of you. "You're so cute. All these weeks that you've been wanting me and now you ask what I'm doing?"
Your mouth opens in shock. So he did in fact know all this time that you were interested in him.
"Don't act all surprised now, darling. You really thought I didn't see the way you looked at me ever since we first met? How your eyes keep focusing on my arms in my tight shirts. How you steal glances at me when you think I'm not looking? I wanted to see how long I could leave you thirsting like this before you would break."
His confession has you gasping as you realize you weren't even faintly as indiscreet as you thought you were. Instead San was playing with you the entire time. Watching your every move.
"Desperation looks so cute on you," he adds with another devilish smile. His fingers continue drawing circles into your back as his burning eyes keep you fixed in your spot. You feel bewitched by his entire presence, like he has cast a spell on you.
"I made all this effort to get you into my apartment so we both don't have to risk our lives by having me ruin you on the meeting table and still you didn't even have a clue. I'm almost disappointed if you weren't so cute when you are surprised like this." A satisfied grin plays around his plump lips, as if he revelling in the taste of this sweet opportunity in his hands. "Now be a good girl for me and finally do what you've been wanting to do for weeks. Tell me you want me."
You haven't taken a single breath since he started talking and as a result your head feels dizzy. It takes a short moment before you can finally form the words that your head is screaming at you.
"Please," you whisper pathetically.
"Please what, darling?" San revels in the way you can barely speak.
"Please ruin me."
You can basically see the fire behind his eyes ignite as you speak those three words. His hand wanders to your cheek, grabbing it firmly. He takes his sweet time to let his thumb run over your bottom lip, eyes trailing after his own movement.
"With pleasure."
Finally, his lips press onto yours in a desperate kiss. They feel just as soft as they always looked to you, but he kisses you with a roughness that is almost contradictory. The combination is intoxicating. As you reciprocate the kiss, heat runs through your limbs in shockwaves.
Suddenly impatient, San interrupts the kiss to pull you up and out of the chair by your arms. Grabbing your waist he manhandles you onto the dinner table instead, lifting you onto the ledge as if it was nothing.
Your hands bury in his hair as both your lips meet again in a rushed embrace. In return, San wedges one of his legs between yours and spreads your knees so he can stand between them. The way he handles you makes heat pool in your core. San has a determination to his every move that makes you want to do whatever he could want from you.
One of his hands still tightly grasping your waist, the other winds in your hair as he deepens the kiss. When his tongue enters your mouth you arch your back wanting to diminish every centimetre between you two. Your head is dizzy, completely overwhelmed by his every touch.
San's firm hands are restless on your heated body. His fingers quickly find a way to shift under your shirt and his thumb draws circles into the bare skin of your stomach. Choi San feels like a drug. His touch just as intoxicating as you always dreamed it to be.
He removes his mouth from your lips only to latch onto the fragile skin behind your ears, kissing his way around your neck. You let your head fall back to give him better access and when he starts sucking on your skin you relieve a small whimper.
You can feel San smirking into your skin as he sucks even more. It's like he has found your weakness and is now shamelessly using it to make you melt beneath his fingers. And it's working so well. Your hands lose grip on his hair as you lose your ability to focus on anything but San's lips on your neck.
"Don't tap out on me already, darling. I'm only getting started," he rasps into your ear in between kisses. You draw in a shaky breath at his words. Your legs feel like jelly even as your sitting down and you just know you won't be able to walk after San is finished with you.
He finally withdraws his lips and for a second just revels in your already dishevelled form: hair messy, red flush to your cheeks and lips glossy from kissing him.
"I'd love to have you on my dinner table but let's take this somewhere more comfortable for now," he says in a soft voice.
Hooking his hands under your thighs he picks you up from the table, carrying you towards his bedroom. Woken up from your trance by the change of motion you suddenly gain back some of your bite. While San is busied with carrying you, your fingers rush to the collar of his dress shirt. Oh how often you have dreamed of popping open those buttons one by one. And finally you have the pleasure to do so. A soft chuckle makes his chest move in front of you as San looks down on your actions.
"You couldn't wait, could you?"
"Why would I?" you reply cheekily as your hand smooths over his now exposed skin. He feels so soft and hot under your fingertips that you don't think you'll ever be able to detach.
San throws open his bedroom door with his shoulder and before you have a chance to take in the room you are thrown onto the plush bed. He follows behind immediately, hovering over you with both hands propped up next to your head. He lets his eyes run over your figure lazily, up and down.
"Don't even know where to start with you," he mumbles half to himself and half to you as he watches your chest rise and fall in heavy breaths. He decides to put on a show, sitting back on his heels and slowly continuing your work in unbuttoning his shirt.
Apart from his skin being exposed the simple act of opening some buttons shouldn't drive you as crazy as it does right now. It's simply the sexiest thing you have ever seen in your life. The way his hooded eyes stay on yours the entire time while one button after another falls open under his practiced movements.
You are moving on autopilot when you also sit up to take off your own shirt. You simply can't delay this any further. As your shirt lands somewhere beside the bed, San lets out a small groan, surprising you. He stopped in the middle of folding down his sleeves.
"How did you know that purple was my favourite colour?" He asks in a raspy voice. His eyes are raking over your deep purple bra with a desire in them that lets shivers run over your skin.
You can't imagine a better way to find out his favourite colour. You only chose it because it accentuates your skin tone but now it feels like fate to you. Finally, you are getting to the edges of Choi San. Getting to know him on a level that you were craving like the air you needed to breath.
"Good intuition," you reply. Your confidence surges under his heavy glances. Maybe a little too much. "Need help with that?" you ask him teasingly with a nod towards his shirt, which hangs open around his toned torso.
As soon as you speak those words you are getting pinned back to the bed, San's hand suddenly wrapped around your neck. He isn't putting any pressure on it yet but you can feel his strength pulsating around your neck. His broad shoulders are taking up most of your vision and with the way he glares at you you just know that you are soaked.
"Don't get too bold with me, darling," he says in a warning tone. "I'm the one in charge."
You look up at him through big, round eyes, lashes fluttering because you have a feeling that it will push just the right buttons in him.
"Go ahead then," you reply firmly. "Do whatever you want to me."
San sits up again and roughly tugs on his sleeves, finally discarding his shirt fully. Then his lips are on yours again in a heartbeat.
You greedily let your hands wander over his now fully exposed upper body. The muscles playing under his skin feel so good as he buries his hands in your hair. His biceps is so big that your fingers can barely wrap around it halfway. You can't get enough of touching his body which so far you only admired in fitted dressing shirts.
San kisses his way down from your lips again but this time he doesn't stop at your neck. Continuing down your chest he kisses the tender skin between your breasts. When he takes both hands to squish your breasts together, burying his face in between, you lose your last bit of composure.
"Please, San. Please just fuck me."
He lifts his head to smile at you devilishly. The fire behind his eyes seems so bright that you're scared it will never burn down again.
"Already begging for me? You're still half dressed and I'm only starting. Have a little patience."
As he finishes his words, his hand snakes behind your back to open your bra in a swift motion. He peels the straps off of you with a new found patience that makes you feel like you are suffocating.
When the piece of clothing lands on the floor, San's eyes are glued to your chest. Slowly, he lowers himself down again, gently taking on of your nipples into his mouth. As soon as his tongue starts lapping at you a string of moans escape you. He just feels so good.
Without ever losing focus on kissing and nipping on your chest, one of his hands wanders to your skirt. He finds the zipper so easily it feels like he has studied undressing you. He pushes it down your legs quickly, leaving you only in your underwear.
As his hand starts stroking your inner thighs, your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels like a dream.
"Please San. Please touch me," the words leave your mouth in whispers. Silent pleas for him to finally give you what you want.
"Is my darling so stressed from studying that she needs her mind taken off of things?" His fingers trail over your clothed heat as he asks you in a sickly sweet voice. His eyes are focussed on your face, taking in how you crumble beneath his touch.
"Yes. Yes, please," you whimper desperately. Every touch feels like electricity on your skin.
"Want me to stuff you full so you can forget everything you've studied for for weeks?" He pushes your panties to the side, his fingers toying at your entrance.
"Please San..." you repeat yourself weakly. Finally he gives into your pleading and sinks two of his fingers into you. You are so wet that they glide in with ease. You suck in a harsh breath as he begins pumping them in and out of you.
"God you feel so good. Can't wait to fuck you, my darling. Bury my cock so deep into you you forget your own name."
His words make you shake beneath him. You had a lot of suspicions about San in the bedroom due to your extensive daydreaming about him. But never did you expect him to be so vocal and downright dirty with his words. It catches you off-guard and only heightens your pleasure.
San scoots up on the bed a little so his face is hovering over yours again, while he slips a third finger into your heat. "How do I feel?" he asks with a raspy tone to his voice.
"You feel so fucking good, San," you moan in answer. His fingers stretch you out so deliciously and he reaches this spot deep inside you that makes you arch your back with every thrust.
"Yeah, you wanna come on my fingers?" he rasps into your ear now, lips again attaching to your neck, sucking deep marks into your skin.
"Please, San." You feel like a broken record that's repeating the same thing over and over. You grow closer and closer to an orgasm with every motion of his fingers inside you. But San has other plans for you. And when he feels you desperately clenching around his fingers, he pulls them out of you.
"I'm sorry darling," he says immediately, even though his face doesn't display any regret. "But you look so pretty when you're desperate. And I want you to come on my cock when I make you fall apart for the first time."
You feel like crying. You want nothing more but to come and yet him taking it from you only makes you want him more. You would do anything for Choi San.
He stands up from the bed and opens his belt. But before he can take of his pants, he orders you over with a motion of his finger. You sit on your knees at the edge of the bed in seconds, looking up at him expectantly.
He doesn't say a word and only gestures for his painfully strained pants. You don't need any more hints to start opening his pants and pulling them down his legs desperately. You hook your fingers into his boxers too but look up at him once more before continuing. When he nods at you you finally pull them down as well.
You can't help but stare at San's length. He's big, just like you had always imagined and he was rock-hard. When San takes himself into his hand and gives himself a few strokes you open your mouth on your own, sticking out your tongue in anticipation of tasting him.
San starts gently. His other hand weaves into your hair and he pulls you onto his length slowly. You are able to take a good amount of him before his tip hits the back of your throat and you release a surprised moan. San closes his eyes momentarily as he relishes in the feeling of your hot mouth around him.
"Shit, you feel so good," he rasps out before he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your hands seek hold on his muscular thighs and you look up at San through big and pleading eyes. Even though he isn't pleasuring you, this almost feels as good as having him bury his fingers inside you. All you ever dreamed about was him using you just like this and the feeling of it happening is so intoxicating you feel like you might pass out any second.
"Look at you enjoying my cock so damn much, that your eyes are losing focus," San chuckles. He looks down at you in disbelief as you mindlessly swirl your tongue around his cock. "You love being ruined by me, don't you?"
You can only manage a desperate nod and approving grunt as you continue sucking him of. No man has ever made you this desperate. As you look at him from beneath you feel like you have accomplished everything you ever wanted: his hair was dishevelled, his breaths uneven and a red tint painted his cheeks. All in all, Choi San lost his perfectly maintained appearance as you sucked on his cock and to you he looked 100 times prettier this way.
When his thrusts go sloppy, he pulls out of your mouth in a haste before he can come. "You're driving me crazy, darling," he grunts as he catches his breath for a second. In a more gentle tone he resumes: "Lay back on the bed for me, ok?"
You do as he says, laying down on your back in the middle of the bed, your body buzzing with the anticipation of what is to come. San goes to his dresser, opening a drawer to get a condom. 
When he climbs over you he looks at you intensely. But at the same time his eyes hold a softness that makes you feel secure.
"Are you sure about going on, y/n?" he asks warmly. No petnames this time. He wants a clear answer.
"Never been so sure in my life," you reply with a smile and his lips mirror yours as he beams down at you.
Quickly he sits up to open the condom and roll it onto his member. Opening your legs with his knee he situates himself between you and positions his cock at your entrance. One hand on your hip and the other holding his cock, he slowly sinks himself into you while carefully observing your face.
Your eyes flutter when he is fully inside of you and you moan at the feeling. San releases a grunt as well and waits a few seconds deep inside of you.
"Fuck, you're so tight for me, my darling. Don't worry I won't stop this time until you come." And with that he starts thrusting into you. He begins with slow and deep thrusts but as soon as you get used to his size he speeds up rapidly. 
His abs are flexing underneath is skin as he grabs onto your hip and pistons himself into you. With every thrust you can feel him hit this spongy part deep inside of you that makes heat build in your core with a throbbing intensity. Meanwhile you revel in the sight above you: San looks like a god. His muscular body moving above you is almost enough to push you over the edge but what's even more entrancing is his face. His expressions seem almost possessed. Like a demon took over him as soon as he started fucking you, he fixes his eyes onto yours.
"Am I fucking you good? Making you forget all your precious studies?" There they are again. His filthy words driving you down a one-way-road to insanity. "I hope you forget everything so you have to see me even more, darling. Then I can keep on fucking this tight little cunt over and over again."
"Fuck, San!" you moan out, being shocked by his words. His control over you is baffling and you can't help but grow closer and closer to your orgasm with every word.
"I know you like me like that, darling. Do me a favour and come on my cock so I can finally see you lose yourself will you?"
You can't form an answer. Endless moans tumble out of your mouth in increasing volume and San knows he has you exactly where he wants. 
"Come for me."
Your orgasm hits you with an explosive intensity. Faintly, you notice yourself moan at a concerning volume as your high washes over your body. But San doesn't seem to mind. Your legs are shaking and he helps you ride out the feeling with slower strokes. He waits for your breath to slow down again before he leans down to you and places a gentle kiss onto your lips.
"I want you on your knees in front of me," he says sweetly as soon as your lips separate and your head is spinning. Still you manage to get up with the help of his arm beneath your waist and you let yourself be positioned in front of San, your back to him.
Since you didn't have the opportunity to examine his bedroom earlier you only now notice the big mirror on his wardrobe next to his bed. Looking ahead, you can now see yourself on your knees, sitting in front of San.
You look even more dishevelled than you feel: Your hair is all over the place and some of your eyeliner smudged and a handful of dark purple marks littering your neck. Also, a red tint covers your skin, making you look flushed. San behind you smirks as you examine your own figure.
"You look so pretty all messed up like this for me, don't you think?"
His arm wraps around your waist as he leans your body back onto his broad chest. You look tiny in front of his build.
"I'll make you look even prettier," he promises as he sinks himself back into you.
He picks up his intense pace from before and you already feel dizzy again. With his arm holding you tight he is basically lifting you up and down his cock. At this angle he is hitting you deeper than before and you are sure you won't last very long until your next high.
But nothing could've prepared you for the feeling of San winding his other arm around you too, his fingers gently starting to stroke your clit. Your head falls back onto San's shoulder as you give in to the mind-numbing pleasure that starts buzzing through your body.
"Keep your eyes on me, darling. I want to watch you fall apart."
His voice sounds sulky, almost cute. It doesn't match his relentless thrusts and his fingers pleasuring you. It takes all your strength to lift your head again and look at San through the mirror. His eyes are hooded now, a shin layer of sweat making his flawless skin shine in the evening light.
"You make me feel so good," you manage to say as San keeps on pounding into you. You want him to know how he makes you feel. How good he is being to you.
"Am I?" He smiles in satisfaction as he watches your brows draw together with a particularly deep thrust. "You too, darling. You feel so good around me I don't think I can last much longer. But you'll come one more time for me, right?"
His voice sounds so deep and sultry in your ears. "Of course, Sannie," you mumble absent-mindedly. You don't even notice the nickname until he chuckles behind you.
"How can you be so cute and so sexy at the same time? You'll be the death of me, my good little girl."
He places a kiss onto your cheek and that is what finally drives you over the edge.
"Fuck, San. I'm coming," you moan out before your high crashes over you. If he wasn't holding you, you would fall to the ground. You try to hold eye contact with San through the reflection but your eyes keep on shutting as waves of pleasure roll over you. You have never felt such an intensity before.
But San's thrust don't slow down this time. He keeps on rutting into you relentlessly, driving you to insanity. You feel like you're swimming in a pool of pleasure.
"I'm close, darling. Just a little longer," San's voice is pitched higher than before, sounding just as desperate as you feel. You want nothing more but for him to come.
"Please, Sannie. I want you to come so bad."
Your desperate pleas are San's final straw. Clutching your body tight to his own, he finishes with his cock buried deep inside you. You can feel him pulsating in your heat and your moans mix into his grunts as you milk him for every last drop of his cum.
As you both slowly recover San pulls out of you and gently lays you back onto the bed. You can't do anything but catch your breath while he gets up to rid himself of the condom and return to you with a glass of water.
"Drink something," he urges you on and you take the glass from him. He watches you with a tinge of worry in his eyes. After taking a few sips you offer the glass back to him.
"You should drink some too, I'm sure you worked your body more than I did."
He smiles at your words and takes some water too before returning the glass to his bedside table. When he looks back at you there is a heaviness to his gaze that worries you.
"What is it?" you ask.
San takes a deep breath before answering you. "No matter what I said to you before, I actually didn't expect us to tumble into this as quickly as we did right now. And I want you to know that I didn't do this to use you or take any advantage of you."
His hand nervously grabs for the back of his neck. "Actually, I've been interested in you ever since we first met but I fear the tension between us was quicker than both of us."
You try to process his words even in your hazy state of mind. A spark of excitement surges through your body as you realize what he is saying.
"I feel the same, San," you reply truthfully. "I like you. And not just because you're insanely handsome."
You are glad when he laughs shyly at your words.
"So maybe I can take you out on a date that doesn't involve work or pharmacy studies sometime?"
"I hope sometime means this week, because I waited long enough for you already."
After everything that happened this evening, this moment when he smiles at you might be what makes your heart beat the fastest. You can't believe your luck as you look Choi San into the eyes and he leans in for a kiss.
-----------------
"This was a stupid idea," you say to San but maybe more to yourself. "I should tell her alone."
"How will she ever respect me again if I let you do this alone?" San replies worriedly. "She told me to tutor you and now here we are. I will look terrible either way."
You have never seen him this nervous. But after all, your mother has the ability to make everybody scared for their life. You two pass her assistant's desk with a polite greeting as you head straight for your mother's office. She knows you are coming but she doesn't know you're bringing company.
You knock carefully on the door until her voice calls you in. Your mother stays seated as you two enter the room. She doesn't look surprised or confused about San's appearance but rather intrigued.
"Why are you visiting me today, y/n?" she asks simply.
Your heart is beating out of your chest as you prepare for answering.
"I have something to announce to you," you start off as confident as you can. 
Your mother's eyes flick between you and San. "Go on."
"San- ... Mr. Choi and I, we are..." your voice is shaking. Why is this so hard for you?
But San grabs for your hand, linking his fingers with yours as he confidently finishes your sentence: "We are in a relationship, director Kim."
His boldness strikes you as admiring. Maybe he was right about accompanying you.
A silence that draws out unbearably long fills the room. You feel like your lungs are being compressed with every passing second.
Then your mother smiles. It's not exactly a smile of happiness. It speaks more of victory.
"Finally," she announced. "It took you two longer than I expected."
Now it's your turn to be silent. Both you and San are stunned in your places.
Finally you find your voice to ask: "What do you mean, mom?"
She smiles at you in satisfaction.
"You see: Mr. Choi is a good man. He's a gentleman, treats his colleagues with the utmost respect, excels at his job and is handsome too. How could I find a better match for my beloved daughter? But I know you wouldn't be interested if I were to formerly introduce you two so I thought I'd help you in a different way."
Your mouth falls open in shock. Out of all things, your mother purposefully setting you up with San has never even crossed your mind. Your boyfriend seems even more shocked at the revelation than you, his face reddened and a stunned expression on his face.
"So you set us two up?" You finally ask your mother.
"Of course I did! And it worked out brilliantly, don't you think? I'm glad you both came to tell me. Mr. Choi?"
San perks up at her words. "Yes?"
"I assume you will take good care of my daughter?"
"Of course I will," he replies sternly, voice full of sincerity. "I will do everything care for y/n." His words make you feel warm and fuzzy.
Your mother nods approvingly. "Then you two may leave. I still have work to do."
You both nod hastily and thank your mother before turning back for the door.
"Oh, before I forget. Y/n?" your mother asks one last time.
"Yes?"
"I received your test results that you sent me. They look very promising."
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I hope you enjoyed <3 Pls reblog and leave feedback if you can :)
Tags: @voicesinmyhead-rc
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ma1dita · 3 months
Text
bedtime stories
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a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift
a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe
(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)
Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.
Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.
It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.
A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.
Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.
“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”
“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.
“You always pin campers to trees?”
“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.
“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”
Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.
“You’re always doing the most, huh?”
“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.
“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.
“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”
“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.
He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.
Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.
Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.
As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.
Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.
“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”
The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.
“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?
“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”
She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”
Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”
Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.
“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”
“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.
“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”
“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.
“Hey! Jerk.”
“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.
“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”
A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.
“And vulgar! What a shocker.”
“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”
Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.
“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”
A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.
Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.
“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.
“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.
“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.
“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”
You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.
Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.
Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.
“Sweet dreams, angelface.”
Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.
It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.
You’d never admit that, though.
“you steady me and stir me
all at once.”
-Tanya Wright
ask to be added to luke/general taglist!
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intoxicated-chan · 1 year
Text
Only You, Darling
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel begins to worry about his unborn child, considering his spider DNA and history of losing people, he worries if things are only meant for the worst.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Dark Red” by Steve Lacy. When I tell you about the grip Miguel has on me! I love this man.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 982
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pregnancy, light angst, established relationship, mentions of cheating, mentions of intercourse, swearing, little paranoia, very fluffy…
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You stared at the positive test. You remained still before looking back at the other five positive tests. Your breathing became ragged as you knew Miguel would be home in a few hours.
You still had some time left, hide the evidence and find a way to explain it to Miguel. He thought that it was almost impossible to get you pregnant, which is why you hoped it wouldn’t make him think of the worst. You wouldn’t blame him if he did.
You begin cleaning up the torn boxes and used tests, throwing them in the small garbage bin without a second thought. You shouldn’t be worried about this now, you should be worried if Miguel was going to make it home on time or late, again.
But all the silence scared you to death as there was no way to calm you. Nothing would stop you from pacing around the living room. What felt like minutes were hours, and when your head snapped in the direction of a thud coming from your shared room. You cursed to yourself, knowing only one person to take the window instead of the front door.
“(Y/n)!” You heard him call out.
You choke on your words for a few seconds before finally being able to speak, “...I’m in the living room!”
You could practically hear him let out a sigh of relief as you heard his footsteps from your room and to the living room, seeing him still in his costume, “I thought you went out for a run again.”
“Well, I do know how much you hate them.”
“Because you take them during the night, I’ve told you how dangerous it is.” He comes to you, placing a quick kiss on your lips before pulling back, “I’m going to get washed up.” He walks to the bathroom but stops and looks over his shoulder, “Care to join me?”
“Well I-”
“That’s fine.” Miguel tells you, “But I could use someone to wash my back.”
“Miguel-”
And he sped to the bathroom, tired but… Shit! You never took out the trash!
“Miguel!” You call out again but no answer. You were too late, he’s already in the bathroom. You still had time, all you needed to was not freeze in place and open the damn door! But you can’t. You didn’t have the right to keep this information from Miguel, he deserves to know.
While you left him in the bathroom, you sat on your shared bed, waiting for him…
It’s been a half-hour. No sound of the shower turning on or anything from the bathroom. But your heart drops, hearing the door open and Miguel comes to the room, test in hand as his eyes tell his whole expression.
“I-”
“I know you didn’t cheat on me.” He whispers, setting the test on the dresser, “But how long have you known for?”
“Just this morning, a few hours after you left for work.” You answer.
“Just this morning?”
“Just this morning.” You repeat, looking into his eyes.
Miguel takes a deep breath, “Okay, okay.” But then he grabs a duffle bag from your closet and sets it on the bed, he pulls open your drawer and starts filing the bag up, “You can’t stay here.” He answers before you say anything.
“Listen to me, Miguel.”
“It’s not safe for you here.”
“Miguel-”
“I’m a danger and you know it.”
“Miguel!” You grab his wrist, “Stop. You know damn well I trust you with my life. You may think that’s the worst thing I ever said but I mean it. I know you have the strength to protect me, I love you Miguel and I promised to stand by you no matter what happens. So please, don’t push me away.”
“It’s not that I’m a danger to you, I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve everything, Miguel. And I’m hoping that you will let me give it all to you.” Feeling his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as if it was his last day.
The next couple of weeks were filled with doctor visits and holded up at home. It’s not like you didn’t stay home before, it’s just Miguel wanted to be sure you were in a safe location and that it would be your shared home.
“Did you take-?”
“My prenatals?” You finish his question, placing a kiss on his forehead, “Yes I did.” You kissed him again, “You don’t gotta worry about me, Miguel. With the doctor visits and the pills, I’m doing just fine.”
“I know.” Miguel sat on the couch while you sat on his lap, you felt his hands come to your stomach, “Does the doctor know when you would start showing?”
“In a couple more weeks but it’s different for everyone.” You tell him, feeling him nuzzle into your neck. You feel his hands rub your stomach, “Are you okay, Miguel?”
He hums, nodding into your shoulder, “It’s just… What if I’m a horrible father?”
“Don’t you dare say that!” You get up, turn your body to face him and sit back down, “I know you’ll be a wonderful father, Miguel. No matter what anyone says. And I know that this child will love you.”
He looks at you and slowly, a smile forms, “This is what I’m talking about.” He lays his head on your chest.
“What do you mean?” You ask. Then you look at his ears, the tip of them being red, “Miguel?”
“I think we should have more kids.”
Your hands come to his hair, “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
He suddenly grabs your shoulders tightly and he snaps his head up, “Seriously?!”
You burst out laughing, “Of course!” You speak in between laughter, “I want nothing more than to start a family with you.” You calm down.
“What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You’ll always have me.”
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© 2033 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
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4K notes · View notes
sebscore · 7 months
Text
PUT IT INTO SPEED DRIVE
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pairings: charles leclerc x driver!reader // lando norris x driver!reader // george russell x driver!reader // alex albon x driver!reader
warnings: theft. swearing. talks about sexuality and a sexual reference. cops.
author’s note: the idea comes from this ask that someone send my lovely wife! 🥹 I changed it from a car to a camera, because I don’t want my poor baby to have her car stolen :((
masterlist
•••••••
“Now that you’ve won Monaco two times in a row, you’re too good to play with us?” Alex teased the younger one as she stood on the side of the public padel court.
Y/N stuck out her tongue at him. “Not the guy in a Williams trying to come for me.”
“Auwch.” Lando said to Alex, impressed by his friend’s comeback.
“We can only play with 4 people, and I’m sure Miss Monaco would love to be umpire.” George argued, giving the young woman an expectant look.
She quickly nodded at the tall Brit, holding her hand up to her head as if she were a soldier. “Yes, sir!”
“No! She can’t be umpire! She’s gonna call all my shots out.” Lando complained, pointing at her.
“She’s not, Lando.” Charles defended her, although there was a doubtful tone to his voice.
Y/N smirked at the McLaren driver. “Well, now I will.”
“See, Charles? We’re gonna lose now.” He told his doubles partner.
“I mean- you were gonna lose anyway.” George started the healthy competitive trash talk.
“OH!” Charles and Lando loudly chorused, pretending to be hurt by his words.
“Warm-up first, or do we just get straight into it?” Alex asked the three guys after everyone calmed down.
Charles, George and Lando glanced at one another. “Just get straight into it? It’s not like we’re gonna take this too seriously anyway.” George suggested, already knowing it would turn into a shit show soon.
Everyone agreed with a small chuckle, and started taking their own respective places on the court.
“Alright, who’s gonna serve?” Charles loudly asked.
“Wait! We should do it like they do in tennis! Deciding with a coin toss!” Y/N suggested.
“You have a coin?”
“I think I have one in my bag! Oh, I also have my camera with me, should we do like a before and after picture?” She snickered.
“That sounds good.” Alex stemmed in, the others nodding as well. “Yeah, I like it when I’m all sweaty and people take pictures of me.” Lando sarcastically joked.
“Basically our job.” Charles grinned.
“They should calm down on all the can-“
“HEY! THAT’S MY CAMERA!” Y/N’s shouting interrupted their small talk, their heads swiftly turning to where she was standing.
They were just about to ask for a clarification when they saw the young woman run after, what seemed, an unrecognizable man that was holding her camera.
“Y/N don’t do that!” George yelled to no avail, not wanting her to get hurt by the thief.
The quartet didn’t hesitate in grabbing their own stuff before running after their unhinged colleague- Lando also quickly took Y/N’s bag in his hands, figuring none of her other stuff should be stolen too.
The five of them watched in frustration as the mysterious man climbed into a car that drove away at high speed.
“We have to go after him!” Y/N yelled, agony on her face at the potential loss of the device. “Did someone come by car?”
Alex, Charles and George shook their heads, while Lando nervously glanced at his friend. “Uh, I did.”
“Norris, please?” She begged, growing more impatient by the second.
“Can’t you just by a new one? It’s really dang-“
“It’s the camera that you bought for me!” Y/N admitted, hoping it would convince the Brit to chase them down.
Fortunately, it worked. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Do all of us go or…?” Alex hesitated following the two youngest ones.
“Yes, Albono! The more, the better! We can ambush them!” Y/N loudly answered, resulting in the whole group following Lando to his car.
There was a collective disappointment as they made it to his car, not expecting his blue Jolly Fiat to be parked there.
Lando spoke up before anyone else could. “Look, if I had known we would be doing a Fast & The Furious, I would have come with another car. Get the fuck in.”
Lando got in the driver’s seat with Y/N taking taking the seat next to him as she knew where they had sped off to.
The three others were about to step in, but quickly found out that there were only 2 seats in the back. “Uh, someone is gonna have to stay behind.” George noted.
“Oh, no, someone can just sit on someone else, it’s fine, I’ve done it before.” Lando assured them.
Alex, Charles and George gave each other a nervous glance. “Uh, so who-“
“Come on, ladies! Get it before those assholes see all the ugly pictures I’ve taken of you guys.” Y/N’s words shut them up and they cramped into the backseats, Alex somehow ending on George’s lap.
“Let’s catch some thieves!” Lando shouted out, although the speed of his Jolly made the moment anti-climactic.
Meanwhile Y/N instructed Lando on where to go, Alex suggested someone call the police- which Charles decided to do since he had the best knowledge of the French language amongst the three of them.
“Why does this thing go so slow?” George criticized the car, a judging look on his face.
“They took inspiration from the Mercedes.” Lando bit back, not appreciating the slander of his car.
Alex, and Y/N snickered at the comment. “More like from Williams.” The youngest corrected.
“Hey, that’s enough!” Alex defended his team.
The attention went from Alex to Charles as he hung up the phone. “They’re gonna dispatch a team, and advised us to respect the rules of the road.”
“Fuck the rules, I want my camera back.” Y/N said, yelling at Lando as he almost went the wrong way.
“You’re not being a good navigator right now!” He screamed back.
She groaned at him. “I’m literally pointing at where you’re supposed to go!”
“You’re not pointing good enough!” The two 23 year-olds start bickering back-and-forth with one another, much to the dismay of the other three men in the small car.
“Why are they always like this?” Alex whispered to George and Charles.
The both of them shrugged their shoulders. “Unresolved sexual frustrations is my guess,” he mumbled, “at least on Lando’s part, I’m still not sure what Y/N is.”
The Williams and Ferrari driver snickered at George’s answer, somehow understanding what he was referring to.
“Are you gossiping about me, Russell?” Y/N suddenly turned around in her seat, catching the Brit off-guard.
He merely shook his head, his eyes widened.
“Good, you wouldn’t want the others to know what you’ve been up to.” Despite the sweet smile on her face, the threatening tone to her words made the Mercedes driver feel uneasy.
“THERE!” Y/N’s loud voice made the entire car flinch, Lando momentarily letting go of his steering wheel.
“Y/N ARE YOU CRAZY? WE COULD HAVE CRASHED!” Alex scolded the young woman, almost falling out of the car as he was still seated on George’s lap.
“I’m sorry, Albono,” she smiled sheepishly, “but look, the police stopped them.”
The four men in the car let out a collective sigh of relief, glad their adventure was over.
Lando parked the car on the side of the road, behind the thieves’ getaway car. They could see a cop walking over to them.
“You called?” He asked in French, glancing at the five of them.
The drivers shamelessly looked at Charles, the man internally rolled his eyes at them, but he answered his questions.
After some questions back-and-forth, Charles pointed at the woman in the passenger’s seat.
“Y-your camera?” The cop asked in a heavy French accent.
Y/N nodded her head, a polite smile present. “Yes.”
“Would you, uh, mind filling out a little paperwork in the combi? You’ll get your camera back as well and can check if there’s any damage.”
“Sure, no problem.” She gave her colleagues a smile, and made her way towards the large cop car.
The four drivers remained quiet as the cop didn’t follow Y/N, instead lingering around Lando’s car. “It’s a Jolly?” He asked.
“Yes!” Lando answered, cringing at his over-polite voice.
“Aren’t those for just four people…” The man gave the four of them a stern glance, raising an eyebrow.
They awkwardly chuckled, not knowing what to properly answer. “Uh, well, you know, our friend, she, uh-“
“I’ll let it slide, this one time only!” The cop raised his index finger, indicating this would be the one and only time he’ll let them get away with it. “And don’t speed around. I know you guys are Formula One drivers, but you also have to respect the rules.”
“Yeah, we will. Thank you so much.” George thanked him in name of everyone.
Y/N came walking back to the car, a happy look on her face as she had her camera back. “It’s not damaged!” She excitedly told them.
“That’s great, Y/N.” Lando was relieved his present for her hadn’t been broken.
“You guys are free to leave, but next time I’ll have to give you a fine, alright?” The cop reminded them one more time.
“It won’t happen again, thank you so much.” The group of five chorused several sayings of gratitude, before driving back to the sports center.
“Well, that’s going to be a fun story.” Charles snickered, dimples on display.
The others laughed, only then realizing how bizarre this whole situation was. “I don’t think people are even going to believe this.” George noted.
“Oh my god…” Y/N mumbled.
The heads of her four friends turned towards her. “What is it? Is something wrong with the camera?” Lando asked, concerned about the device.
“Those fuckers took a selfie with it!” She exclaimed, disbelief written all over her face.
“What?!”
“Look at this,” she handed it to the three guys in the back, the small screen showing the two men in their getaway car, “who fucking does that?”
“Well, at least we have proof now…”
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Good People - Final Part
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.
Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.
And how could Wayne expect him to?
No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.
Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.
He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.
In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.
Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.
But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.
Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.
Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.
He's going to fix this.
He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.
When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.
There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.
Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.
Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.
Eddie's van remains gone.
Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.
Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.
It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."
"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."
He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.
He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.
Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.
The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.
He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.
When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.
Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.
"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."
Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."
"I could have."
They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"
Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.
Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.
Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).
"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.
"Oh, I can fix it-"
"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."
"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.
He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."
Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."
"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."
Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"
"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."
"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."
It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.
"Yeah. I get it."
He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."
"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."
It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."
Steve frowns at him. "Why?"
Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."
Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."
"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.
"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"
Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."
"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."
Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."
Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."
"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.
Steve throws his head back and laughs.
They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.
Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.
Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.
"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.
Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.
He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.
Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.
He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.
He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."
Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."
Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."
Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."
They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."
"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."
Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.
"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.
Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"
Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.
"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.
"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"
"No," says Eddie.
"No," says Wayne, at the same time.
"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"
Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.
Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.
By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.
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Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.
I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha
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American Psycho Killer
Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.
Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.
A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3
“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!
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Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.
Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.
What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.
His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.
He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.
Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.
When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?
He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.
Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.
But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.
Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.
He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.
Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.
The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?
He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.
So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.
The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.
He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.
He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.
Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.
So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.
Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.
He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.
After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.
And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.
Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.
He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.
There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.
He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.
Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.
He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.
Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.
With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.
A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.
You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.
“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.
You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.
As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.
Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.
As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.
Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.
You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.
The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.
This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.
He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.
He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.
He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.
So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”
You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.
“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.
You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.
“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.
“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.
Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.
You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.
Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.
Just for him.
That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.
His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.
His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.
He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.
You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.
And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.
He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.
He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.
He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.
When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.
Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.
Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.
Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.
Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?
Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.
The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.
It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.
It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.
Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.
Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.
The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.
In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.
You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”
You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”
He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.
You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”
He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.
He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.
“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.
He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.
One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.
He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.
You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.
Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.
“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.
Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.
He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.
His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.
You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.
He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.
For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.
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norrisleclercf1 · 28 days
Text
They're My Future, You're The Past
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris
Rating: PG
Warnings: Light Angst, fluff
Words: 3.6K
A/N: I can't believe this series is over, I think I've cried 4 times over writing this and I just, wow, the love it got and how patient you all have been waiting for this, I could never thank you enough for the support. Thank you! Peace Out
Our Boy Series Masterlist / Prev: Just Come Home To Us
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The sun's glow casts on your face, warming your cold body. It was customary for you to sit here and watch the people move along the cobblestone. "Would you like some more?" Craning your head, you nod to the waiter, who smiles as they fill your mug with fresh tea. You turn back, watching the people as they pass the cafe. The same restaurant that was the one you met Charles at. Right up the road was where he asked you out, and now you're waiting for your past to catch you.
"You're actually here," The voice behind you sounds out of breath like they ran here, but you knew it was due to the cold. His blonde hair looks like silver strands, and his blue eyes look like bright orbs of stars. "Nico, sit." You open your hand to the chair across from you. Nico shifts his weight from side to side, wondering if he should. "Nico, we're not going to argue, we're not….we'll. I'm not who I used to be. Now, please, sit." You urge, wanting to put this to rest.
You initially didn't want to meet with Nico; you were perfectly fine with just leaving things as they were, not talking. But Elijah wants you to speak to him, having given you his letter, and all it left you with was annoyance and pain. It's been 16 years. Why did your son want you to deal with this now?
"Elijah called me," Nico clears his throat, looking everywhere but you. "He told me Lando was next to him the entire time." It was one of Lando's new rules: no more secrets and Lando wanted to be there when Elijah talked to Nico. He didn't want his boy exposed to whatever hatred Nico had to spill. "I wouldn't trash talk you to our son." You scuff and look into the sun, letting it warm your skin. "My son, he's not yours." You held no anger or venom in those words, more so truth.
"He is, my blood, my," "Nico Rosberg, stop right now." Your voice holds a stern edge that has Nico sitting up straight. "Let me make this clear," You lean onto the table, staring deep into those blue eyes your son mirrors. "Charles and Lando are his father's. You either accept that or will have no part in Elijah's life. And I don't care if Elijah wants to be a part of it; you will respect the two men who stood up and supported me from the moment they knew me." You hiss, keeping your voice low so you don't draw any attention to you two.
"Y/n," Nico huffs, tugging at the once vibrant blonde, now dull with specks of grey lining. "I don't have a problem with them, but that respect needs to go both ways," Nico pleads, but you roll your shoulders back, refusing to back down. "No, Nico, it doesn't. They will be "respectful" in front of Elijah, and I will only stand beside them if you give my husbands any reason to cut ties." Nico and you fall silent, staring each other down.
Nico cuts his eyes away, and you get a little thrill at how you could make Nico Rosberg back down. "Nico, we'll never be what we used to be. You taught me many lessons and some I didn't deserve to learn, yet they landed me two men I should've valued and trusted more. I damaged our relationship because of the lies I carried from us, and I won't do that anymore. I won't carry this hate we both hold into my life." You whisper the last part, fiddling with your tea.
"You're drinking tea?" Nico notices, and you look up, his eyes locking with yours. "Yes," Looking away first and watching a new yacht dock. "That's….good." He smiles at you softly, and you feel your lips curl slightly. "Um, Elijah texted me; he wants to come over and meet Vivian and the girls; is that okay?" Nico seemed happy about his son meeting his daughters and wife. You remember Vivian. She was a wonderful person and always so sweet to you.
"It would be wonderful; Vivian is a wonderful person. I just want Elijah to have another place he can go to. I want him to be welcomed, Nico; he deserves it. Elijah is a wonderful boy," Nico nods and sighs deeply. "I know we'll have to work on our communication, but we're going to the Alpes, and if Elijah wants to come, he can even bring Cecile." Nico smiles brightly at the thought of the two Leclerc-Norris children joining.
"I'm not going to replace Charles or Lando, Y/n. But I want to be a part of my so- of Elijah's life. However much you let me be there, I won't cross any boundaries or parent him, but I will be…..firm." You nod and sip the tea, letting it warm your bones. "We'll figure something out; I must get home now." Nico nods, stands up, and moves to hug you but stops. You smile; you have no ill will toward him; stepping forward, you let him hug you, and all those memories of being in his arms come rushing back.
"Do you think you could do a favor?" You give him a confused look, and Nico looks almost ashamed to ask you this. "Do you think you could talk to Lewis?" You raise an eyebrow, and Nico groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "After what happened to us, we haven't talked in a while." You admit, and your eyes grow wide. "Are you serious? He stopped talking to you because of you and I?" You couldn't believe this.
"Yeah, I didn't really appreciate me hurting you." You have to cover your mouth to stop laughing and sigh. "I'll see what I can do; he's coming over for lunch anyways." Nico nods, and you both stand there, unsure what else you could say. "I'll see you later, Nico." Nico nods and lays down some money, more than enough for the both of you.
"I love Vivian, Y/n, but you were the one thing I regret getting away. But," Nico takes a deep breath and smiles. "I think it was for the better, don't you?" You smile, a genuine smile that made Nico always stop and stare. "It was all worth it,"
"Cece baby, you can't give up just because it's hard," Lando begs, really hating that they're in the stage where if something was hard, Cecile would just stop working on it. "But, I don't understand it, Dad. Can't I just stop?" She whines, and Lando sighs, rubbing his hair. Sometimes, Lando really hates being a dad because he remembers what it was like growing up and how hard things were, but he just takes a deep breath and tries again.
"Cece, sit down. You need to know how to do this for your school. Now, you and I do it, or I get Papa or Uncle Max to help you. Now, which one do you want?" Lando asks, trying hard to keep his stern voice. "You," She whispers and throws herself down into her chair beside him. Chuckling, Lando fixes her hair and kisses her temple. "Math wasn't easy for me either, baby," Cecile whines and shakes her head.
"It's not that, Daddy. All the words get jumbled when I read them." She whispers, casting her head down, and Lando freezes. He tries to wipe off the panic look on his face and clears the knot in his throat. "What do you mean the words get jumbled?" He asks, not wanting to jump straight to his first thought. "I mean, the letters move across the paper, and it doesn't make sense. I try my best, but it makes it harder, and then it gets harder when I get frustrated. What's happening?" Cece turns, eyes wide and filled with tears.
"Nothing is wrong; we just need to schedule an appointment with your doctor. There's nothing wrong with you, Cece; your brain is wired differently, like mine. It's called dyslexia, I have it, and after we talk to your doctor, then I can teach you tricks on how to deal with it?" "Does that mean we can stop with the homework?" Lando chuckles and, kisses her forehead and nods. "Yep, go." Lando smiles as he watches Cecile run off into the house.
Lando sighed and buried his face in his hands and tugged his hair gently, "Shit," Lando didn't want Cecile to be trouble in school; he remembered and still how hard it is for him sometimes to read, but taking a deep breath he leans back in the chair and smiles at the doorway. "How long have you been there?" Charles chuckles and steps into the room, holding a tray of snacks, clearly about to go to waste. "Not long; you think she has dyslexia?" Charles places the tray down, and Lando scoops up an apple slice and munches it.
"Yeah, she said the same words I said when I was her age and finally admitted to having trouble." Charles hums, reaching up and tugging on his husband's signature curls, making him groan from the slight pressure. "You're stressing, stop stressing." He whispers, and Lando chuckles, swallowing down another apple slice. "She's our little girl, Charles. I don't want her to struggle." Charles sighs and sits in Lando's lap, who smiles and pulls him closer.
"Lando, she's not going to struggle, she's got you, me, Elijah, and Y/n. She'll be good." Charles whispers and wraps his arms around his husband's neck, who hums and rests his head on Charles's chest. "How's Elijah? Is he doing okay?" Lando asks, knowing your relationship with Elijah has been challenging since you returned. He's been a little stand-offish with you, something Charles has been trying to fix.
"Fine, he's with Arthur and Mama and wants to spend the night, but I told him he's coming home. I think he's worried that Y/n will be gone again when he comes home." Charles's fingers tangle in those curls he loves so much, and he takes in the hint of lemon in his shampoo. It was a weird scent, but Lando loves his lemon and mint shampoo. "Good, he needs to be home. We can have a movie night or something," Lando's words trail off as you step into the house laughing, and Lando tenses, hearing the familiar laughter of his fellow Brit.
"Be nice," Charles whispers; Lando grumbles and pats Charles's thigh so they can stand as you and Lewis come into view. "Hey guys," Lewis smiles, and Charles happily hugs his old teammate, and Lando stands there glaring. "Lando," Lewis smiles, and Lando bites his tongue but fails. "You knew everything, didn't you?" "Lando!" You and Charles blurt, having wanted lunch first before Lando jumped Lewis.
"What? He's in our house and probably knew where you were and didn't tell us! Why should I be nice?" Lando asks, and Lewis chuckles and lays his coat over the back of the chair. "Lando, let's sit this straight. She is my family, and you and I are friends, but she is my baby sister, and I'll toss everything away between us for her. Understand?" Lewis's eyes narrow at Lando, who stands there, trying to make himself look bigger.
"I don't like that," Lando grumbles, and you roll your eyes and fix your sweatshirt as Charles comes over and kisses you gently. You smile and pray he doesn't notice, but he doesn't and kisses you again. "They're going to kill each other," You whisper, but Charles rolls his eyes at Lando's childish antics. "Lando, I don't give a fuck if you don't like it. She's my sister, fucking deal with it." Lewis rolls his eyes but stops seeing his niece's dirty blonde hair.
"Uncle Lewis!" Cecile screams and comes barreling at him. "Hey, gorgeous." He smiles and picks her up a little bit as she giggles and hugs her uncle tighter. "Guess what?" Cecile asks as Lewis sits her down. You notice him wince, his back still hurting him. "What?" "I'm just like Daddy!" Lando turns and looks at his daughter, and you notice his eyes grow a little shiny.
"Yeah? How are you like Daddy?" Cecile gets the biggest smile on her face as she bounces around. "Daddy and I both see letters moving! How cool is that?" She laughs as Lando turns and clears his throat. "I think that's very cool, gorgeous; you and Lando are very good to each other." Lewis smiles, and Cecile gives a big, toothy grin. "Yeah, I think so too! I'm even going to work for McLaren one day." She smiles up at Lando, who walks over and pulls her close, hugging her.
"Hey! I'm home, Pa!" You smile and turn, greeting Elijah, who stops and stares at you like a deer in headlights. "Hey Ma," Your smile drops slightly, hearing the hesitancy in your boy's voice. "Hi, honey, um, your Uncle Lewis is here." Elijah seems to relax at that. "Sweet, I want his advice about my driving in F4." Elijah brushes past you and eyes Lando and Cecile weirdly. "Why is Dad crying?" "I'm not crying! Lewis stupid ass cologne is burning my eyes!" Lewis scuffs and hugs Elijah as they walk deeper into the house, discussing F4.
"Daddy, can you let go of me now? I'm hungry." Lando sniffles pulls back, and rubs the top of her head. "Yeah, go. I'll join you in the kitchen soon." Cecile nods and stops at you and Charles, kissing your cheeks. The silence around you three grows, and you smile at Charles and Lando.
"So I might've told Nico he can come over later tonight," You blurt, and Charles and Lando whip their heads your way. "Why?" Charles sputters, and you laugh gently and fix the back of his hair. "Elijah wants a relationship with him and his half-sisters; who am I to stop that?" "His mother," Lando groans, sitting down as he knows arguing with you is useless. "Lando, that is Elijah's fat," You stop yourself, knowing calling Nico Elijah's father before Charles and Lando wasn't the wisest thing in the world.
"I think it's a good idea," Lando whips around, staring at his husband in shock, but Charles has a delicate smile. "Of course, if he still comes home to us, yes?" Hearing such vulnerability and raw emotion, your throat tightens, and you waver momentarily. Charles was still scared that you and Elijah would be gone without notice one day. He'd come back from a race, and you're just gone. It's been his nightmare since he's gotten you back. "Yes, Charles, he won't stay the night there." Charles nods, the tension soaking out of his shoulders while Lando turns and scuffs.
"Dad, I want this." Lando turns and sees Elijah standing there, bag in hand, ready to go to Nico's place. Elijah, ducky, I know you do, but it scares me." Lando whispers; Elijah places his bag down and sighs. "I know, Dad, but I'm not a kid anymore. I know my real parents, but I deserve to see the man who could've been my Dad. I get that right, but you, you're the one who raised me, Dad. That's never going to change." Lando rubbed his hair hard, a sign that he was getting anxious. "I don't want you to be hurt." Lando mummers, and Elijah moves closer.
"Come here, old man." Lando chuckles, and Elijah hugs his Dad, kissing his cheek too. You smile, noticing they hug the same way by burrowing their noses in the person's neck. "I love you, not him. You and Pa raised me, my fathers, and that will never change." Lando nods and tightens his arms before dropping them as Elijah steps back. "I got the girls gifts. Nico says they like dress-up, and pink and mint blue are their favorite colors." You giggle, seeing the way Elijah lights up talking about his half-sisters. Elijah's phone buzzes, and he looks at his watch, smiling. "Nico's here. See ya'll later." You wave and walk outside, seeing two little blonde heads run up and hug your boy. Your husband walks out and glares at Nico.
Nico, taking it like a champ, waves and walks toward you. You step forward, and Nico goes, still seeing Lewis step out of the house with Cece. "Ignore them so he can stay as late as he likes, but he's not spending the night. Also, please be careful with nuts; he's allergic." Nico nods, listening intently as Elijah groans, the girls crawling over him. "Sometimes he gets anxious and hides it well, but he pulls his hair or runs his hands through it pretty hard. So if he does get anxious, just ask him to run an errand, and he'll be okay." Nico smiles and stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder.
"I've got it. You have to let me learn. But I'd rather ask him what he needs than hear it from you." You smile and move, hugging Nico back. You take a breath and start to giggle. "God, you still wear that god-awful perfume." Nico begins to laugh, and you shake your head. "Jesus, man, get a better perfume." Nico rolls his eyes and turns to his girls. "Girls, leave your brother alone," Elijah laughs and lifts them up, making them squeal. "Come on, little Rosbergs, in the car." Elijah opens the door, helps them in, and even buckles them in.
Your breath catches as you notice how similar Nico's girls and your boy look alike. "Bye-bye, Eli!" Cece yells from Lewis's side, and Elijah turns, smiling brightly. "Bye-bye, Cece." Elijah laughs and climbs into the car, and Nico smiles and nods at the men behind you and jogs to the vehicle. You hear giggles as the car drives off slowly.
You smile while watching Lando and Charles follow a recipe, something you've been craving from home. You miss how your relationship used to be, but you know you'll never get that back and must embrace the new dynamics in your life. Lando giggles when Charles kisses his nose, and you lean back, barely sipping from your wine glass—something Lewis clocks immediately.
"Y/n, can you show me the new flowers you planted?" You turn and nod, and Charles and Lando smile at you. You leave the wine behind and walk outside into your small private garden. You got lucky in Monaco to build an actual home and have a little bit of land. No one really wanted to live in the mountains anyway. "How far along?" He asks softly, turning you to smile brightly at your best friend.
"For a couple of months, I haven't told them yet," you whisper, touching your stomach and feeling happiness wash over you. "Lando or Charles's?" You laugh and hook your arm with Lewis's, staring at the fading tattoos, remembering all the nights you'd come to his room crying and tracing them as he nursed your broken heart all those years ago. "Charles's," There was no doubt in your voice.
When you returned from Finland, Charles and you were all over each other as Lando had to go to Mercedes headquarters and take the kids with him to visit his parents. You and Charles didn't leave the bed and may have gotten through a pack of condoms and said screw it, laughing as you both didn't care if you had another baby. Your therapist might judge, though.
"Great, just what the world needs, another one of you," Lewis teases, and you giggle, walking up to the gorgeous new butterfly bushes you had planted. "What do they mean?" Lewis asks, and you rock back and forth, sighing. "New beginnings. I think we all deserve a clean slate, don't you?" Lewis smiles, touching the flowers gently, admiring the vibrant purple. "Yeah, I think it's time to forgive the past," Lewis turns, running a hand over his braids before taking back your hand. "So, who'll be the godfather of this one?" You slap his chest, which makes him snicker.
"Nico," "I'll fucking sue!" Lewis barks, and you throw your head back laughing, seeing the smoke coming from his ears. "What happened to forgiving the past?" "Not for him! He's dead to me," Lewis lets go of you and storms inside, and you hear the giggles of Cece and Lewis grumbling as they come back out and head towards the karts. "Be careful!" "We will, Mama!" Cece waves, and you shake your head, like her father, with wild curls.
Stepping inside, you kick off your sandals and enjoy the cool tiles as you enter your open kitchen. The same kitchen you told them about, Cece. The memory makes you get choked up, but you quickly push it down, not wanting to worry the boys. Stepping deeper, you see Lando pull away, smiling as Charles chases him for another kiss and blushes to see you. You move between them and hug Charles, melting into Lando when he presses you into Charles more.
It's silent, and you enjoy it, hearing Charles's calming heartbeat and Lando's hums, which make you shiver. He chuckles, kissing your bare shoulder. "Did you not like the wine?" Lando asks, knowing you usually had a glass as they cooked. "Nah, it doesn't sit well with the baby," Charles chuckles. "Yeah, babies normally don't, wait." He pushes you back, his face filled with joy.
"Wait, what, baby?" You burst out laughing at those exact words said from the beginning. You knew this was the last chapter of your old life, your new one beginning. And you're going to love this new chapter.
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