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#i didn't know exactly what but i knew he would find something
justporo · 1 day
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Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it? I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell. One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail. How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?
Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.
If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)
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As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.
Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off. 
Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.
You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.
Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.
You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.
But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.
And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.
From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.
And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.
It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.
Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.
And so you took note but remained silent.
Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.
Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.
So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.
That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.
“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.
“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.
You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.
Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.
After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.
Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.
And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.
Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.
So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.
And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.
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leviismybby · 15 hours
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Cat and Mouse
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Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, mdni, nsfw 18+, fingering
Levi's eyes scan the rooftops, he can hear you, hear your footsteps. He launches his gear at the nearby building wall and steps on the rooftop, spotting your figure he hides behind a wall and waits for you to pass by. This time, he won't let you off the hook easily, you were gonna rush past him but Levi surprises you, spins you around and pushes you against the cold surface harshly. You grunt as your back hits the concrete, your eyes narrow immediately before they meet his grey ones. He will never learn.
"Captain." That sarcasm in your voice isn't something Levi appreciated, he jas had enough of your games. Before he speaks, he pins your hands above your head, last time you pulled a stunt, he isn't letting that happen again. "What the fuck is your problem?" You know why he is mad, you've caused him quiet the trouble, not that you regret it. "My problem? I don't have one. You clearly do." A brat, you were such a brat and he couldn't fathom what keeps him so infatuated with you. Maybe it's the fact that you're a thief that the MPs can't seem to catch or maybe is the fact that you outsmarted him both time he caught you. Either way, Levi wants it to stop.
"You have to stop. The military police will get a bounty on that shitty head of yours. You fucked it up badly this time." He was right, you did fuck it up, stealing from the Garrison just for the thrill of it. If Levi didn't know any better, he would say that you're crazy, than again, he isn't exactly normal either and he is the last person to judge you given his past as a thug. "Aww, thanks for caring, I don't care." You try to stir out of his grip and he only tightens it, keeping you still. "You're fucking insufferable you know that?" It was true, you were an annoyance for him, he had better things to do than to chase a petty thief around Trost but there was something about you that kept him coming back. He hated himself for always giving in.
"I can only say the same, Captain. Why do you care so much?" You roll your eyes, trying to find a way out of his grip but nothing seems to come to mind. He is too close to you, you can feel his breath on your cheek, this is getting dangerous. "I don't dammit. I will be the first to celebrate when your ass gets thrown in jail." Maybe he should do it, bring you in and let the militray police do as they please with you but his inner turmoil isn't letting him, he hates to admit it but he enjoys this, the chase and the games between you. His comrads would be disappointed if they knew, he knows your face, knows how you work so why doesn't he just report you? It's a problem that he can't slove tonight.
You don't say anything, the words coming out of his mouth were harsh but true, you did keep him on his feet and you enjoyed the attention. "So report me. Or is your ego not letting you." He hides things well behind that indifferent expression but his eyes tell you a different story, there is hate there, of course there is, you two hold mutual hatred for on e another however there is desire there too, it shouldn't be. It really shouldn't. Levi scoffs at your words, his fingers wrap around your neck and he squeezes, his other hand still firmly holding your wrist together. "You're the egotist one here. You and your shitty criminal jobs. How much money did you earn by selling sealed information huh? What is your game here?" That was his main problem, you stole from the survey corps too and he doesn't appreciate it one bit.
His fingers squeeze your throat again, he wants you to answer but he won't approve if you lie to him. "Enough and I enjoy the chase. Noel matter how big or minor my crime is, you always comr running after me. Why is that captain?" Now there is a question he wants answer at least not with words. Hos face inches closer to you, your noses touching. "Fucking annoying brat." You smirk, your eyes drifting to his lips, will he finally do it or will he run away from it like all those other times? You don't move away or lean in, you simply wait, eager to feel his lips agsint yours.
And just like that, a groan leaves his lips, his hand moving down to your hip and his lips crashing agsint yours. Returning the kiss immediately, you feel his grip on your wrist loosen and insted he interlocks his fingers with yours, his kiss getting more passionate. You let your hand fall to his hair, pulling him into the kiss even more, his body presses up agsint yours, the heat between you making a shiver run down your spine. You moan as his hand moves to your ass and he squeezes, loving the sounds that are leaving your mouth. He needs to hear more and he plans too. His grip gets more and more possessive, his hands start to roam your body, feeling your every curve. You can't go all the way put here, both of you know that but Levi is letting his desire for you cloud his judgement and he can't keep his hands off of you even out here.
The two of you keep kissing for some time until Levi pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to each other. Levi's eyes look you up and down, he wants to fuck you here and now but it's too risky, so he will simply have to do something else. His mouth starts kissing your neck, each kiss more sloppy than the other, you throw your head back, giving him more space, you're enjoying this more than you thought you would. A gasp leaves your swollen lips when he bites into your skin leaving marks behind. "You smell so fucking good." He says against your skin before biting again, this time he hits your sweet spot directly, making a shiver run down your spine. You grab onto his shoulders, your body pulling it self closer to his. "Desperate are you? Fucking brat." He turns you around, your hands on the cold wall, he bucks your hips sligthy and gives your ass a firm slap, fuck the things he would do to you.
He lands another slap on your ass, his body pressing fully into yours, you can feel how hard he is for you. You bite your lip and reach out for his bulge but he slaps your hand away. "No. Keep your fucking hands on the wall understood?" You nod at his words, as much you want to talk back to him, you don't want to ruin this moment so you keep quiet and listen to what he says. You keep your hands on the wall feeling his run up and down your sides before the reach your pants. His hand slides in and you gasp at his cold fingers as they reach your core, he rubs you over your panties making soft moans come put of you. "Wet aren't you? Is this waht this whole thing is about? You want me to fuck you don't you?" Bingo, thats exactly what this whole thing is about, him finally breaching his breaking point and taking you.
Your hips buck into his hands, you want more. Levi chuckles, sending another shiver down your body, this is the first time you hear him chuckle and it's making you feel things. "Yeah? Oh you would love to have my cock deep inside of you right now. Too bad you're not getting it." He nibbles on your ear as he says that, his voice horase and rough, he is turned on beyond belief. He starts to rub you again, feeling the way the fabric of your panties is getting wet, you're phehetic, acting all though while all it took is a single touch for him to get you under his control, you melt so easily, he will indulge in that. Finally his fingers slip into your underwear and feels your pussy, his fingers runs down your slit, feeling your slick and walls, you're so wet for him, fuck he really is in trouble.
He kisses your shoulder, his fingers finding your clit, you thighs close against his hand, whimpers escape your mouth. "How cute. You're phehetic, so fucking easy to break." His fingers enters you without warning, it starts of slow, he loves teasing you but as soon as he feels your warm walls clench around his finger, he starts to finger you faster. "Fuck Levi." You say, your hands steady on the wall, he knows what he is doing. As soon as you said that, he adds a second finger keeping the fast pace, your eyes start to water as he curls them hitting that soft spot. He keeps pumping his fingers in and put of you, your actions are getting him more drunk, he loves how your body shakes just from him fingering you. He needs to control himself or else his cock will be buried deep inside of you and he can't afford that.
The more you react, the faster his pace gets, you forget completely where you are. That people can see and hear you but that's the last of your worries right now. You have Levi, the captain of the survey corps, humanity's strongest soldier fingering you on top of a building. This isn't how you wanted your afternoon to go but its far better than you ever imagined. His fingers keep moving inside of you, his other hand runs under your shirt and he grabs your breast, massaging it in his hands. "Are you gonna cum for me out here?" That makes your pussy clench aagsint his fingers again, you're getting close, that pit in your stomach starts to build up but you're not queit there yet. Levi knows how to push you over the edge, his thumb adds pressure on your clit and he keeps fingering you in a fast pace, the moan that leavs you is something you should be ashamed of, oh someone definitely heard you now, not that you care. "That's it. Good girl, cum for me, let me see you fall apart."
You can't keep your hands on the wall anymore, your grabs onto his arm with both of your hands, digging your nails into his shirt as you cum. You roll your hips, riding out of your orgsam against his fingers, he keeps them inside of you even after you cum. You catch your breath, your head falling back on his shoulder, he kisses the side of your face, he removes his hand from your underwear, his fingers are soaked. "Took about two fucking minutes to make you cum. Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks you as you open your eyes, your cheeks flushed, his hand is still on your breast and he squeezes it once more before letting go and setting both of his hands on your hips. He kisses you on the lips again, the kiss is quick and sloppy.
Eventually, Levi pulls away from you, cleaning his fingers with his cloth. You turn back around, leaning against the wall. The sun is starting to set and you don't know what to say. Levi looks your way again, he fixes his gear. "Stay out out trouble or next time I am fucking you on the wall for all to see. Understood?" That makes you laugh, he had a way with words but you wouldn't mind at all. "Oh captain my captain, if that will be the outcome, I will be gladly robbing the bank next." Your words make his eyes roll, you really were a brat. You fic yourself, fix your hair and look at him again. "See you around, Captain." You wink and get off the rooftop. Levi is left there, staring at the distance until he realised something, his wallet was missing. Damn you.
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raapija · 15 hours
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hi! as a prompt for pookie au (which i love), how do you think carlos would react to finding out his dad is dating LANCE of all people? would he be immediately freaking out or would he hold it in and rant to charles about it later?
Thank you for the prompt. <3
(Carlos and Charles hadn't yet met, as this is set in 2018.)
summary: Lance talks with Carlos for the first time after Lance and Fernando told him they were dating. Also some strollonso fluff to balance it out.
warnings: some swearing, Carlos being extremely mean to Lance
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Lance fiddled with the sleeve of his hoodie. He could feel his ears burning as Carlos stared at him from the other side of the patio table. The cool evening air made his skin tingle.
"Why?" he heard Carlos ask after what had felt like 15 minutes of silence. Lance had sat down with him after having dinner with Fernando. It was the first time they told Carlos that they were together. Lando or Oscar probably would've blurted it out at some point, but it was definitely easier to tell him like this.
"What?" Lance asked for him to clarify what exactly he meant by 'why?.' He couldn't really look at Carlos, because he knew he was staring daggers back at him. They had been racing together for years, but had never really became friends or spent time together. Carlos was also a couple years older than him and had always been kind of intimidating to Lance. Something about those dark brown eyes.
"Why my dad? Of all people, why him?" Carlos continued his questioning. Now Lance looked at him and his heart skipped a few beats as he saw the expression on Carlos' face. Contempt.
"I love him."
Carlos scoffed and Lance felt something inside him shift. He straightened in his seat and took a deep breath. He wasn't going to give in.
"Listen," he started. "I really do like him. I know it's fucking weird that he's older and you're older than me, but so what? We like each other. It's not just some fling. He's done a lot for me and I for him. I love him."
Carlos studied him from across the table. The longer he didn't say anything, the faster Lance's heart beat. Adrenaline rushing in his veins as if he was on a race track, trying to overtake him at a high-speed corner. In the end, it was Carlos who averted his eyes to look away.
"If you break his heart, I'll kill you." Carlos said and Lance breathed out. His face was serious. "I've seen what it's like for him, and I don't want to see that again, ever. So don't you dare."
"I won't hurt him. I promise." Lance said and Carlos' eyes moved back to focus on him.
"You promise?" he chuckled, now sounding condescending. "That's what the last guy said as well. And then he left him."
Lance's heart was about to burst out of his chest. Maybe he couldn't overtake in the corner and instead would crash into the wall.
"My dad gave everything to me. He gave me a chance when no one else would. He doesn't deserve you. He's got all he needs in me and my brothers. He loves us. Not you. " Carlos said, his words cutting right through Lance like little knives. It made his throat turn dry. "You understand?"
"I do." Lance got out. Carlos' chair dragged painfully on the tile flooring of the patio when he stood up to leave. As he walked past Lance, he gave him a strong pat on the shoulder and made Lance flinch. Crashed, in the wall. Game over.
"I'll be watching you." Carlos said and then stepped back into the house, leaving him alone. Lance breathed out and a flood of emotions ran through him as he relaxed. He was 20. Just barely got into F1 and immediately started dating a 37 year-old with three grown kids. This really did sound like some sort of a breakdown if you looked at it from the outside. Still, he was glad the only person at his throat was Carlos and not the media. Only a few people knew, and that was for the best. He had enough on his plate as a 'pay-driver'.
¬
Later that night, Lance was laying in bed, deep under the covers and waiting for Fernando to join him. He had been in this bed countless times before, but the idea of Carlos lurking somewhere in the same house made him uneasy.
He could finally hear Fernando's familiar footsteps climbing up the staircase to the second floor where the bedroom was. As soon as he stepped into the room, Lance's mind stopped racing.
"You okay?" the Spaniard asked as he sat down on the other side of the bed from Lance. He must've sensed Lance's anxiety all the way from downstairs.
"Yeah. Talked to Carlos." Lance said and turned onto his side so he could see Fernando better. The older man laid his watch and jewelry from his wrists on the bedside table and the slid under the covers. They were both facing each other and Lance scooted a little closed so Fernando could wrap an arm around him.
"How it go? Not too scary, I hope." Fernando's voice was soothing and Lance settled against his chest, warm skin touching his forehead. He felt Fernando press little kisses into his hair on the top of his head.
"He only threatened to kill me, so not that bad." Lance said and Fernando laughed. Him laughing made it feel a bit better, like he wasn't actually going to get beat up if he made one mistake.
"That's my Carlito." Fernando hummed and squeezed Lance a little closer to him, slowly running his hand up and down his back. "Don't worry about him. He likes to pretend he's tougher than he is."
"He told me someone broke your heart before so he didn't want me to repeat that." Lance said and Fernando's hand stopped moving.
Lance heard a quiet 'oh...' and wriggled back a bit to look at him. Fernando's eyes were sad. Lance didn't like that.
"I'm sorry."
"No, no." Fernando hurried to stop him from apologizing. He moved his hand up and set it on Lance's cheek. "That's nothing. History. I got you now, so it's okay."
"Yeah?" Lance asked and Fernando gently tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear. The Spaniard smiled at him, his eyes back to normal and happy. The things Carlos had said still irked at the back of Lance's brain, but he didn't press on it.
"You fix me." Fernando said and moved in to kiss Lance on the forehead. He then pulled him close again and held his arm tight around him. "I talk with Carlito tomorrow. Tell him to be nice to you."
Lance hummed and could already feel himself falling asleep. It felt so safe with Fernando. Strong arms holding onto him and his warmth transferring into him. Everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay.
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f4iry-bell · 12 hours
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Before I tell you about my request, I have to acknowledge that you are so FREAKING amazing at writing!!
Don't know if you've already done these before, but Jameson's POV of when he first met Avery, during the will reading, when he first snuck into Avery's room, and when Avery was leaving Will Blake's ranch in tfg. It's probably a lot, but I've been wanting to read about these for a while and I also know a good writer who is capable of doing that. Also, just know that I'm probably going to request you many more things to write about.
first of all I'm HONOURED. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TRUSTING ME. second of all, i really hope this satisfy you and is enough 😭😭I'm no jlb, this is completely of what I think jameson would have thought from my understanding. if you think otherwise please do let me know. again, it's completely from my understanding of jamie's character. also sorry it took so long.
NOTE: all four parts are here. pretty long. some copy pasted dialogues!!!!!! hope you enjoy.
Jameson meeting Avery for the first time.
It was not easy for the Hawthornes, everyone grieved in their own way. But for some reason the grievance was put aside today by everyone, Jameson would like to say he has put it aside as well but the bottle in his hand and the obvious intoxication would say otherwise. It is not a good idea to get drunk during an important time like the reading of the will of the great Tobias Hawthorne, and it's definitely not a good idea to leave your family hanging while one sits at the edge of the balcony, only supported by the railing. But that's exactly what Jameson Hawthorne did.
His mind was all over the place looking for something, something that would give him the thrill more than sitting at the edge of the balcony, drunk. He might have been wrong, but there was a two out of ten chance that he may be right. He refused to look away from the brown haired girl who was standing in the backyard, completely mesmerised by the Hawthorne backyard. As she took in the view he took in her features and movements. He finally decided to interact in the only way he knew to find out what she is.
“If yes is no and once is never , then how many sides does a triangle have?” His words slurred but it got her attention. She looked up to him, bending her neck backwards.
“You’re going to fall.” She told him.
He smirked. “An interesting proposition.”
“That wasn’t a proposition,” She said.
He offered her a lazy grin. “There’s no shame in propositioning a Hawthorne.” Jameson’s smirk grew a bit wider when she noticed that he was shirtless.
“You must be Mystery Girl,” he said.
“I’m Avery,” She corrected.
She looked at him like anyone who knew what recently happened in the Hawthorne family would look at him, wondering why his face was anything but filled with grief. He wouldn't blame her for being a little judgemental. He is very good at grieving in his own way and an expert at hiding it.
“Whatever you say, M.G.,” he retorted. “Can I call you M.G., Mystery Girl?” He was trying to taunt her at this point.
She crossed her arms. “No.”
He brought his feet up to the railing and stood. He wobbled, he could see her thinking about something with worry and panic when he put one foot in front.
“Don't!” But he didn't listen to her. He twisted and grabbed the railing with his hands, holding himself vertical, feet in the air and dropped. He landed right next to her.
“You shouldn’t be out here, M.G.” He told her.
“Neither should you.” He can tell that her heart is beating fast. It was so obvious. Janeson’s heart was racing too, he told himself that it was because of the stunt he just pulled.
“If I do what I should no more often than I say what I shouldn’t”—his lips twisted—“then what does that make me?”
She sighed like she just realised who he is. She was taking in his features to make sure, especially his eyes, and his abs.
“What,” he repeated intently, “does that make me?”
“Drunk,” She said. Jameson was about to say something else, he was ready with a comeback but she added two more words. “And two.”
“What?” Jameson Hawthorne said.
“The answer to your first riddle,” She told him. “If yes is no and once is never , then the number of sides a triangle has… is… two .” She didn't explain her answer, she didn't have to.
“Touché, M.G.” Jameson ambled past her, brushing his bare arm lightly over mine as he did. “Touché.” He was impressed and intrigued.
Two out of ten, this time the odds were in his favour. And now that Jameson Hawthorne got the answer he wanted from this Mystery Girl, he has no plan to leave her alone. That moment he knew she was special. And his grandfather brought her here for a reason. He will find out why.
The Will Read
Jameson made his way to his wing and managed to find himself a shirt and suit jacket. He checked himself in the mirror once before heading to The Great Room. Once he was inside his eyes looked for a specific pair of brown eyes but he realised Avery hadn't arrived yet. He went further inside and stood with the rest of his family. Soon he watched Avery make her way inside and made eye contact with him. He immediately gave her a cheeky smile and a salute, he can also noticed Grayson stiffened at his action through the corner of his eyes.
Once the lawyers made sure everyone who is mentioned in the will was in the room they started. First, they handed an envelope to everyone in the family and to Avery as well. They were asked to open the letters after the will reading. Jameson is already curious about his letter and what the old man has to say to him and to Avery Grambs. His eyes were fixated on her envelope for a whole minute before focusing on the reading prudently.
“Mr. Hawthorne stipulated that all of the following individuals must be physically present for the reading of this will: Skye Hawthorne, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris, Nash Hawthorne, Grayson Hawthorne, Jameson Hawthorne, Alexander Hawthorne, and Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs of New Castle, Connecticut.”
Everyone's eyes including a pair of green ones were on her. Avery Kylie Grambs.
“...To my daughters, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris and Skye Hawthorne, I leave the funds necessary to pay off all debts accrued as of the date and time of my death.” Mr. Ortega paused before speaking, he looked directly at Zara and Skye then back to the will.
“Additionally, I leave to Skye my compass, may she always know true north, and to Zara, I leave my wedding ring, may she love as wholly and steadfastly as I loved her mother.” Another pause, more painful than the last.
“Go on.” That came from Zara’s husband.
“To each of my daughters,” Mr. Ortega read slowly, “beyond that already stated, I leave a one-time inheritance of fifty thousand dollars.”
Jameson wanted to smile but he knew better, just like how he knew that his mother and aunt won't be the one holding the old man's entire fortune. It's not a surprise, none of them should be surprised that the person who would be taking the fortune would be the heir apparent, his brother, Grayson Devenport Hawthorne.
There was a mini quarrel between Zara and Skye on how Jameson and his brothers became the old man's favourite, how Skye gave them to him so that her sons would have the inheritance.
“Now, if I may continue…” Mr. Ortega looked back down at the will in his hands. “To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave…”
“Everything,” Zara muttered bitterly.
Mr. Ortega spoke over her. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee.”
Everyone heard Alisa’s audible shock. Unlike his brother Grayson who was utterly shocked and threw knives for the word ‘what’ Jameson Hawthorne thought that this is getting interesting.
The old man didn't leave everything to Grayson like everyone thought the old man would because of the way he was groomed. Or to Nash, or to Xander, or to me. There is only one person left in the will. There could be two things happening right here, and if his guess is right…
“The remainder of my estate,” Mr. Ortega read, “including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs.”
And it was indeed right, if you're smart you would have seen this coming right after they read that Tobias Hawthorne didn't leave his fortune to his daughters or his grandsons. The only blood related heirs. But now? A new heiress. Not blood related as far as he knows. She is not a random girl. He knew his grandfather too well to know that he wouldn't randomly write his entire fortune to a stranger. This is something. He doesn't know what she is yet. But he will find out.
Everyone's demeanour changed, especially Skye and Gray's. Not surprised. Even Avery’s, she is in utter shock, he can only say that much.
“...I assure you, there is no mistake.” Mr. Ortega met my gaze, then turned his attention to the others. “And I assure the rest of you, Tobias Hawthorne’s last will and testament is utterly unbreakable. Since the majority of the remaining details concern only Avery, we’ll cease with the dramatics. But let me make one thing very clear: Per the terms of the will, any heir who challenges Avery’s inheritance will forfeit their share of the estate entirely.”
“No will is that ironclad,” Constantine said, his voice acidic.
“Not when there’s this kind of money at stake.” “Spoken,” Nash Hawthorne interjected, “like someone who didn’t really know the old man.”
“Traps upon traps,” Jameson murmured. Trying to look into the old man's mind about this context. Trying to look into her mind. “And riddles upon riddles.” He looked right into Avery's eyes looking for something.
“I think you should leave,” Grayson told me curtly. An order. Typical Grayson.
“Technically…” Alisa Ortega sounded like she’d just swallowed arsenic. “It’s her house.”
“I don’t understand,” She said.
“My daughter is correct.” Mr. Ortega kept his tone neutral. “You own it all, Ms. Grambs. Not just the fortune, but all of Mr. Hawthorne’s properties, including Hawthorne House. Per the terms of your inheritance, which I will gladly go over with you, the current occupants have been granted tenancy unless—and until—they give you cause for removal.” He let those words hang in the air. “Under no circumstances,” he continued gravely, his words rife with warning, “can those tenants attempt to remove you.”
Oren stood between us and her.
“Oren!” Zara sounded shocked. “You work for this family.”
“I worked for Mr. Hawthorne.” John Oren paused and held up a piece of paper. It took me a moment to realise that it was his letter.
“It was his last request that I continue in the employment of Ms. Avery Kylie Grambs.” He glanced at her “Security. You’ll need it.”
“And not just to protect you from us!” Xander added to her left.
“Take a step back, please,” Oren ordered.
Xander held his hands up. “Peace,” he declared. “I make dire predictions in peace!”
“Xan’s right.” Jameson smiled, he knew it and he knew that he is not wrong about this. A random girl picked out from a random place far from home to be The Hawthorne Heiress, this isn't something regular, this a game. One of the old man's games. “The entire world’s going to want a piece of you, Mystery Girl. This has story of the century written all over it.” He reminded her about the media and how the world is going to talk about her.
Avery didn't say anything, she walked outside. He wanted to follow her but instead he opened the envelope that was held by him.
Jameson going to Avery’s room through the secret passageway
Avery didn't stay at Hawthorne House that night, he assumed her bodyguard and lawyer took her to one of the hotel's that was owned by Tobias Hawthorne and now hers. He saw her later the next day solving the keys, yet another game that proved that she is special, she solved it faster than any Hawthorne to start with. That night Jameson read his letter again and again, it took him one read to realise it was a clue, he can't help but read it again to see what it says, where it leads. But he also knew this would be nothing without the major clue, a walking brown eyed clue.
If he was a normal person he would have knocked on her door. Jameson Hawthorne is anything but normal. He walked into her wing and moved a picture frame to solve a simple puzzle to release a handle that popped two inches away from the drawer nearby the picture frame, he pulled it and twisted it four times to make the drawer and the wall it was attached to open.
Secret passageway. It was everywhere in Hawthorne House.
He made his way inside and made his way to his grandfather’s room, now owned by Avery. Once he was close to the fireplace he heard nothing, almost thought she wasn't there. But he gave it a shot anyway.
“Pull the candlestick.”
He wasn't sure if she heard because it was dead silent. So he spoke again “Pull the candlestick on the fireplace, Heiress. Unless you want me stuck back here?” His tone was frisky.
“Pretty sure this qualifies as stalking.” His lips curved into a smile once she said that.
He can tell that she was just pulling it. “Don’t just pull forward. Angle it down.”
She did as he asked. Once he heard the click and saw the gap below, Jameson lifted the fireplace up to the mantle to go through the opening. Once he was in the room he positioned the candlestick back to it's original form.
“Secret passage,” he explained to know if it intrigues her. “The house is full of them.”
“Am I supposed to find that comforting?” She asked him. “Or terrifying?”
“You tell me, Mystery Girl. Are you comforted or terrified?” He let me sit with that for a moment. “Or is it possible that you’re intrigued?
She didn't say anything but he knew the answer. She didn't ask him what he expected her to ask.
“You’re not asking about the keys.” Jameson offered her a crooked little smile. “I expected you to ask about the keys.”
She held the keys up. “This was your doing.” Not a question, he noted.
“It’s a little bit of a family tradition.” He said with a motive. He has done nothing but think about the will reading and raise questions to himself, whys and hows.
“I’m not family.” She tried to make a statement but wasn't sure herself.
He tilted his head to one side. “Do you believe that?”
“I don’t know.” She thought before she spoke. Does she know something? That was Janesons first thought.
“It would be a shame,” Jameson commented, “if we were related.” He spared another smile for me, slow and sharp-edged. “Don’t you think?” Jameson is good at a lot of things, flirting is definitely one of them.
“I think that you already have more family than you can deal with.” She crossed my arms. “I also think you’re a lot less smooth than you think are. You want something.”
Points to Heiress. She's quick.
“Everyone is going to want something from you soon, Heiress.” Jameson smiled. “The question is: How many of us want something you’re willing to give?” He spoke in a way that would make her want to give into him. But her resistance was stronger than he thought.
“Stop calling me Heiress,” She shot back. “And if you turn answering my question into some kind of riddle, I’m calling security.”
“That’s the thing, Mystery Girl. I don’t think I’m turning anything into a riddle. I don’t think I have to. You are a riddle, a puzzle, a game—my grandfather’s last.” He spoke and looked at her very intently. He didn't care how it sounded to her, he was sure of what he believed to be true.
“Why do you think this house has so many secret passages? Why are there so many keys that don’t work in any of the locks? Every desk my grandfather ever bought has secret compartments. There’s an organ in the theater, and if you play a specific sequence of notes, it unlocks a hidden drawer. Every Saturday morning, from the time I was a kid until the night my grandfather died, he sat my brothers and me down and gave us a riddle, a puzzle, an impossible challenge—something to solve. And then he died. And then…” Jameson took a step toward her. “There was you.” He tried explaining to her how Hawthorne House is, how his grandmother was. Why his grandfather chose her wasn't random.
“Grayson thinks you’re some master manipulator. My aunt is convinced you must have Hawthorne blood. But I think you’re the old man’s final riddle—one last puzzle to be solved.” He took another step, bringing the two of them much closer. “He chose you for a reason, Avery. You’re special, and I think he wanted us—wanted me —to figure out why.”
This point he was convinced that she was a puzzle to be solved or a clue that would lead him to something. Something his grandfather wanted him to find, to know. Because the old man knew damn well that Jameson Hawthorne could never resist a game.
“I’m not a puzzle.” Her heart was beating faster because of their closeness or because of what he's saying.
“Sure you are,” Jameson said. “We all are. Don’t tell me that some part of you hasn’t been trying to figure us out. Grayson. Me. Maybe even Xander.”
“Is this all just a game to you?” She put her hand out to stop him from advancing farther. He took one last step, forcing her palm to his chest. That touch shouldn't have excited him, even if it did, he didn't concentrate on it.
“Everything’s a game, Avery Grambs. The only thing we get to decide in this life is if we play to win.” He reached up to brush the hair from her face, and she jerked back.
“Get out,” She said lowly. “Use the normal door this time.”
“You’re angry,” Jameson said. Making her angry isn't helpful, if she's angry with him she may not help. Or see that this is a game, and she is a piece of it.
“I told you—if you want something, ask. Don’t come in here talking about how I’m special. Don’t touch my face.”
“You are special.” Jameson kept his hands to himself, but the heady expression in his eyes never shifted.
“And what I want is to figure out why. Why you, Avery?” He took a step back, giving her space. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to know, too.”
She does, she wants to know. She must.
“I’m going to leave this here.” Jameson held up an envelope. He laid it carefully on the mantel. “Read it, and then tell me this isn’t a game to be won. Tell me this isn’t a riddle.” Jameson reached for the candelabra, and as the fireplace passage opened once more, he offered a targeted, parting shot. “He left you the fortune, Avery, and all he left us is you.”
Avery coming out of Vincent Blake’s mansion (tfg)
Jameson wouldn't forgive himself if something happened inside, if someone happened to either of them. Avery and Grayson. Especially Avery because he let her go inside, knowing the kind of man Vincent Blake is. His heart could pop out any second, it was beating that fast. He tried to keep it cool with all the paparazzi outside. He kept looking at the gate, waiting for her. For her to come out alive and bring his brother, maybe Toby even. Whatever is happening inside, he prays that she is winning. Somehow she must.
His heart skipped a beat once he saw Avery come out with Grayson and Toby. He wanted to run and hug her, he didn't care that they'd cause a scene. but he stopped himself because he saw Toby talking to her, he slowly made his way to them and the car. To let her know he was there. He also let her have her moment with Toby.
He didn't know what happened inside, but from the look of it he can tell that Avery won. Whatever game they played, however she played, she won. And she was safe along with Grayson. That's all that mattered to him at that moment.
When she made her way to him, he didn't ask her what happened. “The knight returns with the damsel in distress,” Jameson declared. He glanced toward Grayson. “You’re the damsel.”
“I figured,” Grayson deadpanned.
“What are you doing here?” She asked Jameson. He can see the victory in her eyes, she was more open with him now that the first time they met. It was getting easier to tell what she was thinking.
“I thought you could use a ride home,” Jameson told her. She looked past him, expecting to see a helicopter.
“Pretty sure you aren’t allowed to land a helicopter there,” Grayson told his brother.
“You know what they say about permission and forgiveness,” Jameson replied, then he focused back on her with a familiar look—equal parts I dare you and I’ll never let you go. “Want to learn to fly?”
Avery smiled and took his hand. He still didn't ask her what happened, he just enjoyed her victory in the air. Just Avery and Jameson.
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In your soldier on au does branch ever think about signing up for the military? When he’s the age he can do it but this au got me thinking about how my older brother was in the military and how that influenced me to want to be in the military too but my family has a history with the military so idk if John Dory be in the military has influenced branch a little because they seem to be getting along.( sorry if doesn’t make sense but I just had some thoughts about it but this is a really interesting and cool au and I’m only 14 so I don’t really know how a 16 year old will think about this😅)
Oooooooohhhhh... okay, okay, okay I got this lol
This is entirely possible. Especially since John was 17 when he signed up and Branch is not that much younger now. I think he would probably consider it at some point, at the very least, although if John knew, he'd probably be like... now I know what Dickory was trying to do with his brother lol so it might be a theme lol.
I think Branch might consider it at some point; especially when John talks about the good things, the places he's been, the people he has met, the squad that became his family. And since Branch has a kind of disconnect from his brothers, he might think this is kind of a good idea. However, on the other hand, with John's new predicament and disability, Branch also gets a bit of a seat into what can - and even often does - happen when in that type of environment.
John lost his leg. And no matter how strong and capable he is or becomes, that is something he does have to struggle with because it is a huge, huge adjustment, especially at his age. So Branch could also very well be faced with what if John hadn't survived? Branch would have never have met him. What if Branch did the join the military and didn't survive?
In the end, he might consider even have a phase of daydreaming about it for a bit. But at the end of the day, he won't. He ends up gaining that family and relationships that he was longing for, mostly when he is in Hawaii with John (and by proxy, Bruce). Rosiepuff might even sell her house and end up moving them there because of it.
Branch gets friends and close relationships. Not just with John, but with other people too. Tresillo and the rest of John's squad actually get close with Branch too. He ends up having a better relationship - although a little awkward - with Bruce. He has some friendship/relationship with his nephews and possibly even Clampers and Hickory as well. Eventually Poppy will probably make an appearance as well and well, we know I ship Branch and Poppy.
Branch having that moment of wanting the military, part of it is because he was unfulfilled in his life and relationships and in the beginning, before things get better, he sees the good in John's life but he doesn't quite realize that good came out of some really painful loneliness that he didn't have the choice to find in his own family. Branch and John's loneliness are not exactly the same but very, very similar, even though their circumstances are a bit different.
Military backgrounds definitely influence a family, whether or not the family tries to. One of my high school friends, despite her small stature, was determined to get in because that was in her family. It wasn't that her parents told her she had to or even expected her to, but it was something she really wanted and she did. I don't know if she is still here or not, but I know she got in.
And don't worry, your ask made total sense. I'm sorry I went a bit above and beyond.
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missjessefantastico · 8 months
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who's surprised? nobody!
#starting out with the good side: this is not affecting me nearly as much as it used to#in other time of my life i would be bawling my eyes out by now#onto the bad side... isn't it fucked up how numb i am to my dad's comments#like... i knew he would find something to criticize from the very beginning#i didn't know exactly what but i knew he would find something#so today it was as if i already had heard it before#which again is good bc i'm not even distraught over it#but i think it's sad how unaware he is of the fact that every time he opens his mouth he gets closer and closer to mean nothing to me#he thinks i hate him but the truth is that i haven't hated him for years because everyday my mental image of him is less the one of a fathe#and more the one of a white noise machine#which is so sad for him because i'm legitimately an amazing person i'm proud of who i have become and of who i keep becoming#and he's just... that annoying dude i sometimes have to talk to#all because he says he's too old to change his ways i mean how sad is it that he doesn't even believe in himself?#al this to say...#my dad: become an engineer | me: okay | my dad: not like that D:<#he doesn't like the school i picked you guys! what else is new?#i learned web development basics with no teachers i became fluent in english by watching cartoons#i got the highest score out of every applicant even tho i hadnt touched a math problem in years#but according to him i'm going to be a failure because of the school i picked!#just because i'm doing better when dealing with him it doesn't mean i'm not annoyed lol#anyway back to my life...#txtsincorbata
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daddyricsdoll · 2 months
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Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri
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Summary: It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest. But that wasn't what every other driver on the grid thought as they teased Oscar and you for being too innocent to know anything beyond vanilla sex. So when you guys didn't put up a fight, they figured they were right... until someone was lucky enough to see you and Oscar on the other end of the spectrum of "plain sex".
Warnings: not vanilla sex! fingering, oral (male receiving), bondage (hands tied together), spreader bar (if that even what it’s called), unprotected sex, rough because how else would you have it? Gagging and deep-throating Oscar’s huge dick 😩
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Oscar is the man who makes me wanna wake up in the morning and I love it!! I'm so obsessed with him it's making me go insane, but if I'm going insane it's fine because I'm going insane over him. Everything about him is beautiful and I wanna call him pretty and gorgeous and watch as he blushes. Then ride him and take control of him until he wants to teach me lesson and makes me pass out. (I’m just a girl) Based off of this request.
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“Oscar, how would you say relationships outside of F1 have helped you grow in this sport as a driver and as a person. If they had an impact, and if not then why?” Oscar’s PR manager testing questions on him, posing as one of the many journalists trying to break Oscar’s wall that he’s been perfect at keeping up so far. He finds it amusing that they have so much interest in his life, only encouraging him to keep his words to a minimum. Well as long as you don’t come up– his cheeks immediately flush and he starts every sentence with “my girlfriend” before he looks at others and silently begs them to say something to shut him up.
“Well, everyone’s been supportive of my career. Which only makes me want to do my best, and better than that.” Keeping a straight face as he answers until he looks at you beside him then Lando with a proud grin on his face.
“Who’s everyone…? Your girlfriend?” Lando’s voice teases, like every schoolgirl talking about their friend's crush.
“I- yeah. She does a lot for me, helps me let off steam before and after races, she also-”
“Let off steam, huh? Is my Oscar making his girlfriend cum to let off steam?” Lando’s mouth wide open, making an ‘o’ shape. Both you and Oscar have mixed emotions– heat coursing through you remembering just this morning, but also shock from Lando’s unhinged question.
“You’d be surprised?” Oscar’s answer broad, but you knew. Letting Lando believe that Oscar lets you cum, when his favourite thing is edging you until tears roll down your face.
“Oscar, you probably just learnt what a clit is.” Lando having nothing better to do than tease him as his pale cheeks turn pink. 
“Believe whatever makes you happy.” Oscar shutting down the conversation before he reveals too much, a little smile on his lips as he chuckles and moves his hand further up your thigh.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆
It wasn’t just Lando who would have a say about you and Oscar’s sexual life, but any driver who happened to walk into the conversation at the perfect time.
“Oh yeah, Oscar you’re vanilla.” His fellow Australian, Daniel Ricciardo, says. Joining them on their walk to wherever they all had to be next. 
“Well actually I think Oscar is a little more than vanilla. He’s vanilla but not vanilla.” Logan pops in too.
“No. Oscar is sooo vanilla. Like he’s too scared to choke his girlfriend because she’ll die and he’s never marked her so she knows she’s his.” Lando expresses his words with so much passion it makes Oscar roll his eyes but know exactly what Lando’s doing when their hotel rooms are beside each other and he’s invited a girl over. 
“Wow. Calm down Lando, I think we learnt a little bit more from you than Oscar. You definitely need a girlfriend.” Daniel spoke the words everyone was thinking. Letting Oscar finally breathe and have all the attention over to Lando and his desires.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆
“Fuck, I needed you.” Oscar groans out, thrusting himself ever deeper into your mouth. “Talking ‘bout how vanilla we are. But look at us.” The position you were in was unimaginable. You lay on your back, head on the edge of the sofa as Oscar rammed into your mouth with his fingers opening you wide and making you cum. But still, that wasn’t enough, your hands tied together and a spreading bar made sure your legs couldn’t be shut, always ready for Oscar, but with a blindfold over your eyes how would you know? Each of your moans were muffled by his cock and as one of his hands played with your clit the other toyed with your nipple.
Blood rushed to your head from this position and it filled in for the loss of his hand around your neck. Oscar pounded into you, his dick making you gag as you deepthroated him. An explosion of fireworks inside of you as he continued making you cum, a loud scream trying it’s best to flee your puffy lips, but Oscar couldn’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle to make out any coherent sounds because of his cock. 
By now it was impossible to remember the amount of times he had made you release. From his mouth, fingers and dick, all you did know was that that number was only going to increase. 
Each of his moves were so intense, Oscar had you spellbound. Unable to notice anything other than him. Well that was until he pounded himself as deep as he could into your mouth and then stopped. Everything went silent.
“Oh fuck! Oscar?!” Those words certainly didn’t come out of your mouth, and when you realised who did say that, oh you couldn’t have been more embarrassed, but somehow aroused. Seconds later the door finally shut, and you could only think about the uncensored view Lando had of the both of you. 
“Fuck, I’ll deal with him later. But for now…you need to cum.” Pulling out of your swollen mouth and grabbing you off the couch to lay your shamelessly sinful body on the floor. Oscar doesn’t take his time, manhandling your legs so your feet are nearly inline with your head and then making your arms keep them back by going in front of the spreader bar.
Leaving your pussy so exposed and vulnerable that Oscar could do whatever he liked between those drenched folds. It was always a gamble with Oscar, sometimes he’d take his time to tease you, others he wouldn’t even give you time to catch breath. This was just as unpredictable as others, by now you would either be covered in your own tears from his edging or on the verge of passing out because you could feel him in your throat after coming in you repeatedly. 
You felt less of an advantage, not even being able to lay eyes on him, so you listened to your own heavy breathing until he touched you again. Fingers going between your folds and spreading them apart with his index and ring finger. Lightly teasing you with his middle one. “Looks like you’ve had enough today huh? Or can you take one more?” 
You nod your head as an answer, but it’s never enough as he asks you for words.
“Y-yes. I can take more.” You force out between breaths, in shock of how you even managed to say those words. 
“Oh really? Well that’s great.” Oscar holds your pliant body up even further and then makes a swift move of ramming himself deep inside of you. Once again it pulled all of the oxygen from your lungs and the stretch from the position couldn’t be compared to the stretch from his cock. You couldn’t complain as he thrusted in again and hit your g-spot. Bringing more tears to your red eyes.
Grunts and groans slipping past his lips and making his actions such a godly sensation. 
Oscar pounds himself into you with no mercy, finding pleasure in your moans and cries. You wish to hold him, dig your fingers into his shoulders and mark his back. Adorn his pale skin in love bites and make his lips swollen. Thinking about the way his body flexes with every thrust and how divine he would look from this position that you’ve been in many times but each new one has a different effect.
“What’d you think Lando’s telling them?” Oscar grips your thighs tighter–fingers certainly making bruises– keeping you in place as he vigorously rams inside of your overstimulated pussy. Never losing pattern or momentum.
“You think he’s telling them about how you took me so well? Your hands tied up? And how fucking good you looked between my legs.” Each of Oscar’s words having such an effect on you it could've been a trick of hypnotism. Your legs shaking and lips parted as you came. Oscar savoured the beautiful sounds leaving your mouth and he worked harder to fuck your high out and bring his in.
You clenched around him, forcing a moan to finally leave his lips and bless your ears. Oscar spasms and releases inside of you. Pushing himself so deep and his cum even deeper. He thrusts a few more times, easing both of you out and spreading his cum inside your walls. Oscar sits in you for a while before pulling out. “Fuck, that was so. Fucking. Good.” He starts untying you and helping you come undone from all of the restraints. Letting you lay flat on the floor as he did all the work.
“I would’ve been in you for hours if he didn’t come in. Can’t imagine what he said to them”
Oscar crawls up your body and plants a kiss on your lips. 
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆
Finally leaving Oscar’s room you both didn’t know what to expect. Well definitely not drivers surrounding a small table as Lando spoke to them all with hand actions and his face even worse. 
“Y’know vanilla isn’t even that bad. But wow Piastri, I didn’t think that.” Daniel brings all the attention to you two. Every driver turned their head with a series of reactions on their faces.
“You are freaky Oscar.” Logan couldn’t hold back and somehow Fernando was there to agree with him.
“I have to tell Charles! Now I know what you two do.” Pierre smirks, making you blush and look at the ground.
“Well I guess I was wrong, but Oscar why didn’t you tell me you sneaky boy. Because then I had to see it.” 
“It seemed like you wanted to join.” 
“No I-”
“The way you’re speaking about Lando, it seemed like you wanted to join.” Daniel once again kind of saving Oscar from these unfortunate topics.
“What? Guys this is about Oscar and how freaky he is with his girlfriend!”
“If you want to join, just ask.” You finally speak, teasing Lando and watching the way his face changes. 
“Oh you guys are so not vanilla!”
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rowarn · 5 months
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afab!reader, gn!reader, simons a fighter, protective!simon, blood mention, fingering, lil bit of mean!simon for flavor <3 MDNI
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simon riley is by all means a "do what you want, i can fight" kind of man. and fight he will. simon will go to the ends of the earth to protect you. and that's always been incredibly hot to you. you'd never had a man so eager to defend you.
especially to the point that simon was. more than once he'd come away from a fight with bloody knuckles and a split lip. 
that's exactly how he looked now, but he also sported a cut across his eyebrow as well. the guy he'd beaten in the alleyway looked much worse, but he got a few good hits in. 
all you knew was that he said some revolting things about you that simon happened to overhear. simon refused to tell you specifics, citing that you didn't need to hear something like that. 
you both had gone home quickly after that. but the sight of simon all beat up, knuckles split and bruised from the force he'd used to beat the man had something stirring in your stomach. butterflies. 
as you cleaned his cuts and wiped away any blood that stained his skin, you could feel the wetness growing in your panties. you clenched your thighs and shifted as that began to uncomfortably stick to your pussy. 
simon, always attentive, noticed right away. his pretty, brown eyes lit up in interest, a brow raised as he watched you shift on your feet. 
"something wrong?" he asked, as if he couldn't tell what was going on. 
"n-nothing, si," you responded sheepishly, tossing the bloody gauze into the garbage can before stepping away. 
simon doesn't let you get very far before his arms are wrapping around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. you can feel the heat radiating off of him and feel how his heart pounds on his chest against your back. craning your neck, you look up at him. 
"ain't nothin'," he says, voice low and quiet, "and i'm not lettin' you walk out of here with that pretty pussy drippin'.''
you swallow around the lump in your throat as he says it. he wraps his big hands around your waist and moves them downwards, slipping under your shirt and pawing at the hem of your sweatpants. he dips his head down so he can kiss along your neck, practically purring when you sink into him. 
he takes the opportunity to slip his fingers under your panties, thick fingers prying your pillowy lips apart. you adjust your stance, leaning back against him for support as you spread your legs a little more so he can slip his fingers further down.
first he glides over your clit, pausing to stroke and roll the tender little bud under his fingers. your whole body twitched at that, trembling hands reaching to grip onto the fabric of his hoodie. your head fell back against his chest, giving him more access to your neck. 
his fingers dip lower, finding your entrance, slick and drooling all over the digits as he strokes back and forth, teasing you with their presence. 
"tell me," his voice vibrates in his chest, deep and low, "what's got you this wet?"
"mmm, d-dunno, si," you lie right through your teeth at him. 
he hums, pulling his fingers away from your sweet little hole to go back to your clit, pinching the bud. you whimper at the feeling, hips rabbing back to get away from the little pain, "you're lyin'. i want you to tell me the truth. what has this pretty little cunt all wet?"
"simon..." you whine. he knows you don't want the embarrassment that comes from the confession but he teases it out of you anyway, "y-you got me wet, si!"
"me?" he grins, wolfish and predatory, "i didn't do anything, love,"
you whine, rocking your hips forward. he took some mercy on you and slowly sunk one, long, finger into the tight clutch of your cunt. the stretch wasn't enough, he knew that, you'd become so accustomed to the fat girth of his cock that one single finger would never be enough to satisfy you now. he'd ruined you. 
"y-you beat that-that guy up for me..." you finally manage to squeeze out of your dry throat, "'s hot..."
he scoffs as if he didn't already know that that was the reason, "you like me beatin' some bastards head in for you?" you nod, sighing in pleasure when he rewards your with a second finger, "you're fuckin' filthy. you think he'd be happy to hear that it turns you on?"
"don't care about him," you quickly answer. 
his grin broadens, "that's the right fuckin' answer, love."
he finally gives you the third and final finger. you keen when he stretches you open on those digits, curling them just right to hit that gooey, spongey little spot inside you. his palm curls around your pelvic bone so the heel of his hand grinds against your clit just how you need to cum nice and hard for him. 
he works his fingers slow and deep, making sure to hit that spot every time he stuffs his fingers back inside you. his other hand comes up, wrapping around your throat to pin your against his chest. you moan freely, clawing at his tattooed arm desperately as you rock your hips against his hand. 
he can hear the wet, slick sounds of him fucking your precious little cunt open. you work your clit feverishly against his hand, helping yourself along to the high you so deserve. you're dripping down his fingers, making a mess of him and yourself but you don't care. 
"'m gonna cum!" you needlessly warn him.
"i know," he grumbles, tilting your head up so he can press his lips against yours, hand still firmly wrapped around your throat. 
he sees your eyes roll back before you melt into the kiss, your orgasm washing over you. he groans when he feels you squeezing and clenching around his fingers, pathetically humping against his hand to work your clit even harder. he slowly strokes that spongey little spot to help ease you through your high. you tremble and clutching desperately at his arm as you start to come down, whimper and panting into his mouth before he lets you pull away. a string of spit connects your lips and you look completely dazed as you gaze up at him. 
he always did enjoy the way a good orgasm had you looking all dumb and pliant for him. 
he pulls his fingers out of your panties and you whine at the loss, watching him bring those cum-covered fingers up to your face. you could see the way the bruises and splits in his knuckles were covered in your cum and had to hold back to keep from moaning at the sight. 
he popped them into his mouth, sighing at the taste of your sweet cum on his tongue. 
before you knew it, he was breezing past you out of the bathroom and down to the living room, no doubt on the hunt for something to eat. 
"simon!" you called petulantly. 
you heard him laugh from the living room, "what?"
"you aren't gonna fuck me?" you complain, feeling heat flood your cheeks when he laughs again.
"dunno, love," his tone is teasing, "we'll see."
ugh. he could be so generous one second and mean the next </3
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mwah here is some food my beloveds
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a-b-riddle · 4 days
Text
Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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slxtherin-prxncess · 7 months
Note
dark!stepbrother!ethan where he’s absolutely obsessed with the reader and he borrows her computer and finds out that she was watching some kinky shit (like i mean kinky) and then he makes a move on her and smut from there!! also pls make him really dominant if possible. thank you <3
Good Girl For You
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pairing: dark!stepbrother!ethan landry, AFAB!reader
contains: non-gf!au, smut (mdni), unprotected p in v, cream pie, oral (m receiving), face-fucking, choking, overstimulation, stepcest. Lmk if I missed any
an: lmk if you wanna be in the taglist
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Ever since you were little, it's just been you and your mom.
She never had boyfriends, and you were an only child, so you had grown up to be protective over your mom.
That is until Wayne, your step-dad, came into your life. He had 3 kids: Richie, Quinn, and Ethan. Richie was grown, so he didn't live with you guys, but Ethan and Quinn did.
Quinn was super nice. She was the sister you never had. Both of the siblings being a year older, you were now the youngest.
Ethan, however, was a pain in the ass.
He was such a dick. He would always taunt and tease you, taking your stuff without asking, and even invading your privacy. He was such a douche but god, he was so cute.
You couldn't deny it, Ethan was hot. Especially when he walked around in those gray sweatpants
He knew that you were looking at him, and he loved it. He wore those gray sweatpants on purpose when he was hard, just so he could walk in front of your room when the door was open so he could catch you staring, not to mention he would purposefully tip something over or drop something just so he could look at you bent over.
And to his luck, both of your parents were out that day. Unfortunately, Quinn was there, but hopefully, she wasn't a snitch.
"Hey Y/N," Ethan leaned against the doorway sluggishly. "Can I borrow your laptop?"
"Why?" You shifted in your seat so you could peer at him. And, of course, he was wearing those godforsaken sweatpants.
"I need it for something. Are you gonna let me use it or not?" He cocked a brow.
"For what? Porn?" You scoffed.
He rolled his eyes and stuck his hand out expectantly. "Well?"
You handed your computer to him with a sigh and settled back in bed, seemingly bothered by his presence.
It was only minutes after he had been in his room before your stomach wrenched, and your heart sank.
'shit, shit, shit,' you thought as you raced to his door. You had forgotten to close your tabs from the previous night.
"Ethan, I need my computer real quick. Just really fast, I'll be two seconds," you beat on his door and jiggled the knob that wouldn't turn.
He unlocked his door and handed it to you with a smug grin. Oh he definitely saw it.
"I'm sorry you had to see that, that wasn't meant for you," you whispered embarrassingly as you tried to take the computer from him, but he waved it higher than your reach.
"Nuhuh, I think you did it on purpose," he smirked. "Leaving your porn tabs open for me?" He tsked. "You're smarter than I thought you were Y/N."
"No, Ethan, it wasn't meant for you to see, I forgot to close them and i-"
"Oh you’re such a liar.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “You're such a smart girl, I dont believe you could be so careless,” Your breath got heavier at his accusation.
Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. You really hadn't done it on purpose, but it didn't seem like such a bad idea.
He yanked you in his room and closed the door, pressing you against it as he held his knee between your legs, applying pressure to your increasingly aching cunt.
“You know, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into that sort of stuff. Always get so nervous when someone flirts with you, always get so flustered when people touch each other in a movie.”
He was ignoring your request completely. “But it makes sense now, you get all shy cause you like it.”
Your eyes widen, and you squirm in his arms, not exactly trying to get away. not really trying to get away at all, actually.
"Wonder how many times I’ve been sitting with you on the couch while your cunt gets all wet." Your body is frozen in embarrassment, it’s kinda hot. 'God. Don’t think like that Jesus'
"Yet you aren’t trying to stop me, are you?" His voice is so completely self-assured and cocky. Asshole.
It made you so wet. You aren’t trying to stop him. You don’t want him to stop, even though you should.
He pulls his hands back a little for you so that if you want to get out, you can. Without as much internal protest as you’d hoped, you stay completely still.
"See, I was right. You are just a little slut who wants to get touched by her stepbrother." You visibly cringe at that but feel slick spill into your panties at his words.
He roams his hands down until one stops directly above your waistline.
"Ethan," you said warningly. "Stop.."
“Oh but why? It feels like you like it when I talk to you like that. I mean… given the videos you were watching, I bet you like it.” You pushed up against him. You just want him closer, it doesn’t matter if it’s wrong. He knew what he was doing, making you feel small, degrading you. “You do like it, fuck.” He started grinding himself against your thigh. You did like it, you wanted him to keep going, keep making you feel small.
"Y'know, I've imagined touching you like this so many times. Every time you act like a brat or roll your eyes at me, all I wanna do is back you up against the counter and make you melt for me," he smirks.
"I thought you said you didn't think I'd be into this stuff."
“You can be into anything I want you to in my fantasies.” His other hand snakes up to start running his thumb up and down the column of your throat.
This really should not have such an effect on you, but it does. Your eyes flutter, and you let out a soft, needy breath as you lay your head back against him.
“Oh you like that? You like that I just imagine you in any position I want?” You nod your head reluctantly. Your lips open and close, but no sound comes out.
He’s barely even touched you, but it feels like your tongue is twisted up in your mouth. You can feel your resolve just slipping away the more he speaks to you, the more he touches you.
“Fuck,” his hand slide up your neck and went to the back of your head. “I know you do. Now get on your knees.”
His hand tangled in your hair right up against your scalp, and he tightened his grip a little, pulling your head back ever so slightly in the process.
The way he was talking to you, how he was treating you, all like you were just some object for his pleasure… fuck, it made you wet.
If this situation could possibly get any worse from you guys just doing anything at all in the first place, getting turned on from your stepbrother degrading and objectifying you would definitely make it worse.
You moaned softly when he pulled your hair as you started to kneel down in front of him slowly, struggling to resist the urge of responding ‘yes, sir.’ When your knees were on the ground and you finally stopped shifting around to get as comfortable as possible, you finally realized the position you were in.
You were about to suck your step-brothers cock.
But at this point, all thought or consideration of morality and shame had long been lost on you. Instead, the lewdness of the situation only fueled the fire, and part of you was just getting off on how wrong this was.
You felt filthy and all it did was make you want to continue. ‘Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?’, would be what you’d typically be thinking. And you were, just less in a self-deprecating way and more in a self-humiliation way.
You bite your lip at the site in front of you, Ethan’s clothed hard cock in his gray sweatpants. He had noticed how fixated you were and tilted his head at you with a smirk. 
“You want it?” You just stared up at him and moved your hands up to his thighs as you slid them up. “I asked you a question, answer me.” He pulled your hair a little harder this time, and you moaned a little louder.
"Yes, I want it," you answered. You felt as though your brain had formed into mush. You hadn't even registered his question as a question when he asked. You just knew you wanted to touch him.
“awe, you do?” He mocks your voice and pouts his lip before scoffing and leaning down ever so slightly. His thumb caressing your neck.
“Don’t worry, im gonna fuck this little throat of yours.” You shudder a little before just nodding your head and opening your mouth.
You loll your tongue out, and he grins. “Yeah, stay like that.” He slaps his heavy tip on your tongue, and you can taste the bitterness of his pre-cum.
“Open wider.” You obey him and open your mouth further. He leans forward and spits in your mouth. Your eyes flutter, and you press your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You like that?” He laughs and rubs one of his fingers over your tongue. “You like it when I spit in your mouth? Fucking disgusting.”
He grips his cock and guides it onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. He groans and holds your head back against the side of his bed before he starts thrusting into your mouth.
“Mmm, fuck. Such a good girl." He rutted into your throat, tilting his head back as his tip abused the back of your throat.
"What would your friends say if they knew you’re getting face fucked by your stepbrother, and loving it so much you’re practically dripping onto the floor? What would your mom say?” You really didn’t wanna think about his second question.
“Mmm.” You just hum around his cock in response and he smirked. It’s not like you could actually respond.
You kept your eyes on him, loving the way his jaw tightened when he hit the back of your throat. Or the way the muscles in his arms would twitch and flex under his tight shirt. He was right, you did love this and you could feel the discomfort of your sticky panties between your thighs, damp and uncomfortable.
His hand went to the top of your head to grip your hair between his fingers and he started pushing in faster.
“Yea? I’m gonna paint your pretty little throat and you’re going To .Take. Every. Ounce.” With each word he slammed his tip in the back of your throat.
“I’m gonna cum down this slutty throat and you’re gonna swallow it all and thank me.” His face and neck were a little red and he had this sheen of sweat that the light from his lamp bounced off of.
He looked like some kind of angel and if he wasn’t aggressively fucking your face you might’ve actually believed he was.
“Fuck, oh take it.” He moaned and pushed his cock to the back of your throat.
“Mmh, oh fuck… love sucking on your big brothers cock, yeah? Such a fucking cockwhore it doesn’t matter who it’s from.”
He was thrusting at a fervent pace, and it was evident he was just chasing his own high. Using your mouth as his personal fleshlight to fuck and fill.
It was hot being treated like this, especially by Ethan. He tightened his hold on your hair and pushed in a little too far which made you choke. It made slick pour into the gusset of your panties.
Fuck, he was right. You’re a total slut. Your hands went up to hold onto his thighs for support as your eyes closed. Spit drooled down your chin and onto your chest, tears poured down your cheeks which Ethan took pleasure in wiping away.
“Maybe you’ll let me fuck that pretty pussy. Bet she’s just crying for me.” ‘Next time?’ The thought made your skin burn with arousal. “Think you’re gonna let me fill up all your holes. Fuck. Yeah, I wanna see that. My obedient little stepsister leaking cum onto my bed, absolutely spent. Such a fucking whore you’d probably ask me to do it again. Fuck your little pussy till it’s sloppy and bred.” 
His hips stuttered, indicating he was close to release as be fucked your throat mercilessly.
He rutted his tip right against the back of your throat while he moaned and mumbled. “Good girl, good girl. Take it, baby.”
spurts of cum painted your throat as his thrusts grew weaker.
He pulled back out of your mouth and looked down at you while he stroked himself a few times to make sure he was done. A little bit of cum spilled from his tip and onto your thigh.
You could finally swallow now that he was out of your mouth, and god, it felt good. You opened your mouth to show him that you really did it.
He panted lifted you up, wiping cum and saliva off your chin.
"You're so pretty like this. You're making me hard again," he smirked, crawling on top of you.
He gripped your thighs, spreading them so he could position himself at your entrance.
"You want it? You want me deep inside you?" He whispered in your ear, teasingly as you could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Yes," you whimpered, peering at how absolutely amazing his cock looked. You imagined it deep inside you, fucking you better than you could take.
"Tell me how much you want it."
"So bad," you whined, tilting your hips up to feel a sense of relief in your desperate center, but be pulled back with a smug grin.
"Oh, I bet you do, because you're such a slut, aren't you? Such a slut for your stepbrother," he hissed when he slid his cock inside your walls, your wetness not making it difficult at all for him.
"Yes," you moaned out, thanking your lucky stars that he was inside you. God, you felt so dirty. He was your stepbrother, but it just made it that more hot.
"So tight," he groans as his hips rutted into yours, a moan slipping from your lips.
His hand wraps around your throat, barely squeezing but enough to where you swore you could've came just from the feeling of his hands choking you.
"Such a slut, so wet for me. For your stepbrother." He groaned, and he repeatedly slammed into that sweat spot, causing a loud moan to emerge.
"As much as I love you moaning for me, you have to keep quiet," he said as he clamped a hand over your mouth, making sure to leave your nose unblocked so you could breathe. "We'll get caught if you're too loud."
"Y/N?" Quinn knocked on the door. You froze, but Ethan continued fucking you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.
He removed his hand from your mouth and smirked.
"Yeah?" You called out, praying to whatever was out there that you wouldn't moan.
"Why's the door locked?" She jiggled the knob, but it wouldn't open.
"Um, just having some alone time. What do you.." Your eyes rolled back as his pace sped up. You bit your lip so hard you were afraid it might bleed. "What do you need?"
"Just checking on you. I thought I heard some noises," she said skeptically as she pressed her ear against the door only to be met with quiet creaks from the bed. "What are you doing?"
"I'm not doing anything," you replied quickly as Ethan bit down on your shoulder.
Ethan's pace sped up as he repeatedly slammed into you, the knot in your stomach tightening.
"Y/N, are you listening?" Quinn asked, obviously annoyed.
You must've missed something, accidentally drowned something out while Ethan was fucking you so good.
"S-Sorry, its kinda hard to... to focus when I'm watching something," you stammered, the knot in your stomach so close to snapping.
"Or when your stepbrother is deep inside you," Ethan whispered, practically destroying your pussy while you tried your best to keep quiet.
A silent moan escaped your lips, and you froze, terrified she heard it.
"What was that?" Quinn asked, her eyebrows raised even though you couldn't see her.
"What was what?" Your eyes rolled deep into your skull, legs trembling as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.
"Never mind, I'll leave you alone," Quinn said before walking away.
You let out a sigh of relief when you heard her bedroom door shut.
"Fuck, you did so good, keeping quiet for me," he groaned and his hips stuttered and his thrusts became harsher and quicker.
"Oh my god, m'gonna cum," you moaned, feeling helpless as Ethan fucked you mercilessly, his cock hitting all the right places inside you.
"Not yet," his grip around your throat tightened as he thrusted into you, obviously chasing his own high. "You'll cum when I say so."
You whined in protest, but it was no use. He had complete control over you. You would bend over backward just for his satisfaction.
"Please, please, please, please! I can't hold it, I need to cum," you whined, bucking your hips to the rhythm of his thrusts as you chased your high.
"Good girl," he smirked, biting his lip as he got closer to his own climax. "Cum for me."
You weren't sure if you came because he gave you permission or he just happened to allow you when you couldn't hold back anymore, because you came before he finished his sentence.
Your entire body shook as your orgasm ripped through you, but he wasn't finished yet.
"Fuck, you're so pretty when you cum," he hissed as he fucked you through your orgasm. The overtimulation was too much. You felt so good, but you could barely take it.
"I'm gonna fill this pretty cunt up with so much cum you can taste it," he groans. "Yeah? You like that? You want me to cum inside this pretty cunt of yours?"
You nod quickly as you felt a second orgasm form.
His free hand snaked down your body and applied pressure to your clit, rubbing it roughly and your moans got louder.
"So good for me," he praised as he sensed he was going to cum.
"M'cumming, cum for me," he ordered, his hips stuttering before you felt the warmth of his cum paint your walls the same time your second orgasm ripped through you.
"Fuck," he panted, burying his head in your neck.
He looked down at you, his cum dripping out of your abused hole.
"We should do that more often," he said with a smirk.
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dramaticals · 5 months
Text
a favour
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
summary: you want to get your mind off of your break-up and theodore knows just what to do. literally just smut. characters are assumed to be 19+. mdni.
author's note: based on a thread i wrote in the rpc, but i excluded any wordings from my writing partner for obvious reasons
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You didn't know who else to ask.
You've tried just about every heartbreak remedy out there—guzzling glasses of alcohol being the most recent and detrimental. The only remedy you hadn't tried required another person, and asking for it seemed to be much harder and more embarrassing than you thought.
In theory, you should be doing what any normal person would do when they want to get over an ex: find some stranger at a bar and have at it. But you're convinced the looming grey cloud that seemed to follow you around was enough to deter any stranger, regardless of whether sex was involved.
Which is why you were standing in front of Theodore Nott's place with a ridiculous and crude request on the tip of your tongue.
You and Theodore Nott weren't exactly friends. Friends of friends, more like. You two ran in the same circles, but there had never really been an opportunity or a reason to hang out one-on-one.
Even so, you knew the type of guy he was. Theo was as charming as he was alluring. He had that aura around him that just screamed lothario. And he was—at least, that's what you heard. Your mutual friends often teased him about his latest conquests, to which he'd respond with a smirk and a dismissive, "If you want me to fuck you next, all you have to do is ask."
"Y/N," Theo says. He leans against the doorframe of his apartment coolly, brows raising in question at your visit and curious eyes giving you a once-over. The way his arctic green eyes lingered on your body made you flush.
"Hey," You say breathlessly, fingernails digging into the palm of your hand out of pure nervousness. You didn't think it would be so hard to come out and just say it. "Can I ask you for a favour?"
"A favour," Theo repeats, his lips twitching into his signature smirk. By the way he was looking at you, you swear he knows what you want from him. "Depends. What do you need?"
"Could you help me get over my ex?"
Theodore's brows raise, his eyes flashing in smug amusement. He definitely knew why you were here.
"I can think of a few ways to distract you." He says slowly, eyes trained on yours. There's a teasing tone in his next words as he lists, "Movies, puzzles, bourbon..."
"Actually," you interrupt, your gaze flickering anywhere but his eyes. Your heart's practically beating out of your chest now. His intense gaze was doing a number on you, and you suddenly understood every woman he'd ever slept with. Theo knew exactly how to work a woman in the simplest way possible. "I was thinking of something more effective than that."
"Oh? And what may that be?" Theo asks as if he already didn't know. He just wanted you to say it.
You inhale sharply, your eyes meeting his again. "I want you to fuck me."
Theo lets out a breath, his lips twisting into a mischievous grin. "Gladly."
Theo beckons you inside before shutting the door and turning the lock. He wastes no time closing in the space between you two. Strong hands pull you close as his lips ghost over yours teasingly. You can practically feel his smirk on your lips, and it makes you shiver.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." Theo says huskily against your lips.
There's no time to process his words before his lips are on yours. You gasp against his mouth, allowing him the opportunity to slip his tongue in. He steps forward, guiding you backwards until you're pinned against the door. Your hands reach to cup his jawline, kissing Theo back with as much passion as he was giving you.
He lets out a groan against you, and it strikes a fire within you and to your core. God, you needed to hear more of that.
Feverish kisses turn into teasing, nipping kisses down your neck. His rough hands slide down your frame, his leg expertly maneuvering between yours and pinning you in place. You whine at the pressure, throwing your head back in response.
"Fuck, Theo," you breathe, your fingers running through his brown curls.
He lets out a low chuckle against your collarbone, clearly eating up every second of this favour. You were so receptive to his actions that a part of him wanted to drag this whole ordeal out.
His hands tug at your sweatshirt, expertly removing the garment. He hisses when he realizes that was the only barrier he had to deal with. The cool air of his apartment, along with his lips on your chest, made your nipples perk. Your back arches into his mouth.
Theo flicks his tongue against your breast, teeth grazing lightly as he pulls away to say, "So fucking beautiful."
You could just melt into him. The way he was working you was unlike anyone you've ever experienced before. And the way his hands hooked onto the hem of your skirt and knickers, pulling them down swiftly—fuck.
One hand moves to capture both your wrists, lifting them both up and holding them above you firmly. His other hand finds its way to your core, toying with your slick folds before inserting a digit.
You let out a desperate whimper. You want to grip onto something, but his hold on your wrists is solid, and it only makes your hips buck into him.
"Eager, are we?" Theo muses, his lips planting a sweet kiss on yours. He watches you attentively as he slowly inserts another digit. Slow enough to really take notice of your wetness on his fingers. Theo smirks when your breath hitches.
"Theo," you gasp. "Please."
Theo kindly obliges, curling his fingers inside you and flicking repeatedly against the spot that made your knees buckle and your heart soar. His grip on your wrists tightened in part that you could no longer keep yourself standing.
"Oh my god. I need—" you moan, your eyes shutting in pleasure.
"What do you need, darling?" Theo asks smoothly, his fingers continuing their motions inside you. His eyes are dark with lust. He plants a kiss on your jaw.
"You." You manage to get out, squirming against his fingers. You're so close.
Theo was feeling too fucking smug seeing you unravel like this, and so it's another second before he's sliding his fingers out of you and letting go of your wrists. You whine at the loss of contact, your eyes shooting open in confusion.
Theo's discarding his shirt, untying his sweatpants, and shoving off his boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of him. You didn't think he could be any more sexy.
"Like what you see?" Theo quips with a sly smile. His hands move to your hips and then to your thigh, guiding your leg up around him. He guides himself to brush against your core teasingly. You jerk at the contact.
"Theodore," you warn. You don't know how much more foreplay you can take.
With a pompous grin, Theo sinks into you roughly. He grunts in pleasure, reveling in the feeling of your dripping cunt around him.
"Fucking hell, Y/N," Theo groans, setting up a torturous rhythm of thrusts. You feel the pleasure bubbling in your core, your fingernails dragging across his bare back.
Theo buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving sweet kisses on your skin. The sensation of his soft, tender lips on your neck versus the primal thrusts into you made you want to scream.
Theo senses this, and he relentlessly continues his movements. He's quite close himself, his cock twitching in response to your body. But considering this was a favour to you, he holds himself back. You needed to come first.
And you do.
You release a panting whine just as the building pleasure finally washes over you. You grip onto the locks of his hair on the base of his neck for support, coming undone in his strong arms. Theo moans, feeling you clench around him, before allowing himself to come.
You slump forward into Theo, your forehead resting on his chest. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly, now more than ever needing the support his strong frame provided.
"That'll definitely do," you say with a weak nod.
You can't see his face, but you can practically see the shit-eating grin on his lips.
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mrfoox · 1 year
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Wtf is my fascination with this little freak.... Hes just a dude but I'm so intrigued, I'm tired
#miranda talking shit#Its been two years but i still dont understand him so im guessing thats why#Tbf we didnt become closer until a year ago or something so yeah. But since day one i just felt like it was something with him and now im#Frustrated. Hes literally just a dude. Yet my brain find him so fascinating. I know i in general am very interested in people i like#But this guy man... I think it might be because i can understand him and thus cant predict him? My brain does love a mystery.#I mean i had an fairly intense period of 3-6 months where i was super fascinated by fabian. I still kinda am but now i think#I understand how he works over all so i do not feel the intense need to ask him all kinds of things and analyze? Bc now i have an decent#Idea of how he works. Meanwhile this little freak is almost the opposite of me in everything and i just want to study him. I think in a way#He reminds me of myself at least in the way of 'dealing' with mental problems etc. Or rather my past self. So i want to challenge him to do#It differently. I dont think i have an savior conplex or something when it comes to him bc i do basically not... Tell him to change?#I dont think i could change him. So thats not what my fascination comes from... But holy shit i just want to talk with him about everything#Also probably why i like him that he will answer any questions i ask. No topic has been bad or too weird and i appriciate that in others#But nah. Never been this intrested in someone whos this diffrent than me ever. I always need to have something major in common for a strong#Intrest. But here its like... We are both introverts ... And both social actors/pretenders... Otherwise our similarities are pretty small#I really wish i knew exactly why my brain is so intrested in him . I think its my hyperfixation being activated unfortunately.#Technically he have a lot of things/traits i dont like? But still i dont find him annoying or something?#Many things i dont agree or have the same opinion as him on. But i just find it refreshing ? Maybe its bc i basically havent known anyone#Like him. Hes not the type of person i attract or even put my time into i think. That's why ive told him we'd not be friends if we didn't#Meet this way. I would probably not have wanted to talk to him and i cant see him wanting to talk to me. Especially if we met when younger#No way teen Miranda would not go near him iajdjfjskskd id like to discuss this with him but im scared to scare him and scared to learn#Something bad or him not caring for me or something. I know he doesnt care about many things so id not be suprised but#Fuck this guy. I wamt to obsess over a video game instead where there are wikis to read /:
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ivyjupiterwrites · 1 month
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Not that this would ever happen, but like food for thought:
Ghost losing his military ID and you finding it. I know he doesn't have a photo on his file but Id like to think he needs some form of identification? No? It's fictional it doesn't matter anyways--
You were tidying up, sweeping and such when you saw a card face down. Immediately you recognized the back of the little shiny plastic ID and a smile rose to your lips.
Some poor bugger had been dumb enough to drop their card. 
Going over to it, you were practically rubbing your hands together with anticipation of just who the noob was. Upon snatching it up from the linoleum, you eagerly flipped it over, but were left with immense confusion. 
Who the fuck is this guy? 
Your brows furrowed as your eyes flickered over the picture hungrily. You'd never seen him before in your life, which you considered a pity really. He was handsome, that you had to admit, yet a stranger all the same.
It was only after lingering seconds of taking in every square inch of the photo, attempting desperately to place a name to the face did you hazard a look at the actual name of who owned it. 
Silence encapsulated you in your entirety. The music which lowly played overhead was muffled out, the slight sound of your breathing faded and the tweeting from the birds just outside the window halted. 
You were staring at the ID of none other than one Lieutenant Simon Riley.
Blinking dumbly, a strange, tinging sensation began spreading through your limbs at this forbidden knowledge. How had he managed to lose his card? How the hell were you supposed to return it without giving yourself away or up??
Slapping it down upon the table with the back facing upwards, you have a five minute brain storming session on what to do. Involved in the matter was much pacing, along with sweats, shakes and the occasional pause to flip the card over and sneak another peek.
Eventually you decided that it would be easiest to either slip it under his door. So you take a sticky, place it over his face, write him a small note and set off on your return journey.
You sprint away from the scene, not wanting to be caught mid return. Not exactly considering the more of a rush you make yourself seem in, the more guilty you looked.
It didn't take long before you saw him next, stomping around, throwing things aside recklessly. You could practically feel the flames shooting off of him with how pissed he was; and against your better judgement, you suggest he maybe go look in his room.
That perhaps, just perhaps, some good samaritan had found it. Your feeble attempts to ease his mind absolutely did not help, but he did follow your advice and went and checked. Sure you hadn't been the most casual, but it was better than the unhinged fit of rage you knew he was undoubtedly immersed in. 
Lividly he clomps away, storming off to his residence to--in his mind--be met with nothing.
Or so he assumed.
Your vaguely pointed directions solidify the funky feeling in his chest when he opens his door and the card is actually there. Narrowing his masked gaze, he reaches down to the downwards facing ID and plucked it from the floor.
As he grabs it, his fingers brush against something other than just the cards hard plastic. Flipping it over, he finds it the sticky note you had placed over the picture and on it, in pretty writing was "keep better watch of this next time handsome, who knows who could've found it ;)" 
He looks up into his room from the card, a mixture of emotions but confused was the biggest currently. His anger had to take a back seat as his mind was thrown into a mixture of emotions and thoughts. His mind is conjuring up a thousand different possibilities, yet none of them fit.
At least not well enough for his liking, however plausible.
He never directly calls you out, as that would mean he would also have to loudly state he had lost his ID in the first place. Instead of saying much of anything to you, he simply opted to watch you from there on out. Leering from the corner to see if you acted weird.
And since he always gives you heart palpitations, and there wasn't excactly a time you weren't making a fool of yourself in front of him, he had nothing new to observe.
Deep down in his soul--he knows. 
bonus:
Ghost rides the instinctual feeling until one day during a meeting when Price gets you to write on a whiteboard. "You have much better writing than my old scratching, be a dear and jot this down for me?"
Compliantly, thinking nothing of it, you begin to do just as asked and jot down whatever Price is listing off to you across the board. Attempting to make it as neat and legible as possible, you were in your zone and all thoughts of the ID incident pushed to the back of your mind.
And there he is met with the neat, beautifully scrawled writing yet again and it's a very intense but silent mini freak out full circle connect the dots where he's like 'I KNEW IT DAMMIT!!!!' but very casually without any movement whatsoever aside from maybe a slight eye widen.  
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vivwritesfics · 1 month
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Best Dad Ever
Lando is the best girl dad. When his little girl wants to ride horses, he makes it happen
For @nurse-buckley for studying
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Lando didn't have many regrets in life. He didn't regret karting from a young age, he didn't regret joining McLaren. He didn't regret getting married young or having a child either.
Actually, those last two were the best decisions of his life.
What he did regret was letting his four year old meet his sisters horses.
Lola fell in love. Lando hoped that she'd find Flo's huge horses terrifying and scary. But she loved them. She really really loved them. She giggled as the horse took the treat from her hand. Auntie flow had shown her exactly how to do it
She didn't get to ride Flo's horses. They were top show jumpers, Flo didn't want to put her niece at risk like that. Something Lando was incredibly grateful for.
But soon, Lando was strapping her into her car seat and driving her home. "Papa," she began as she looked out of the window, at the horses in the passing fields. "Can I start riding ponies?"
Lando should have seen it coming. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Lola had found love for those great big beasts in the same way his sister had. "Let me speak to your mother, yeah Lols?"
"Okay daddy."
Her mother didn't need a lot of convincing. "Hell yes she can go riding!" Y/N insisted. "I always wanted to as a girl but I never could," she said as she cuddled up to her husband.
"But, what if she realises she want to do karting like her father?" He pouted.
She held his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. "I promise, Lan. The next one we have you can introduce to karting."
Lando really liked the sound of that.
***
For Lolas first riding lesson, Lando was there, watching. He arranged it for a date he wasn't at a race and held his wife's hand as he watched. He was so incredibly nervous. Even if all Lola had to do was sit there, he was still terrified.
Soon she was riding every week. Lando desperately wanted to be at every lesson, but, before he knew it, he was at a race.
He wasn't there for the first time she trotted. "Please video it, baby," he said to his wife as they spoke on the phone.
She did just that, recording as she sat tall, the little pony beneath her trotting. Lando watched the video again and again, showing it to anybody that would watch.
He was there for her first lesson off the lead rope. He couldn't stop the smile on his face as she steered the small grey pony over the set of poles.
Lola kept up her riding lessons for a year. Lando attended as many as he could.
When that year of riding lessons was up,y Lando was on a mission to do something big.
It arrived at his location in the mid morning. As soon as it did, Lando put his phone to his ear. "Baby, bring Lola to the yard," he said.
Without questioning him, she got Lola into her riding boots, strapped her into the car and set off for the stables.
"Where's daddy?" Lola asked as they drove.
"He's gonna meet us there, sweety," Y/N said as she drove.
Lola frowned. "Why?"
"I don't know, Lol's."
As soon as Lola was out of the car, she was running towards her father. "What's going on, Daddy?" She asked.
Taking her hand, Lando walked Lola towards the barn. "I got you something, Lol's, " she said.
Lola gasped when Lando pointed to a stable. In that stable was a black pony, wearing a pink headcollar. "Lola, baby, I'd like you to meet Raven," said Lando. "He's your new pony."
Lola let out a little, quiet scream. "Really, daddy?! He's all mine?"
"He is, baby."
Lola through her arms around her father, squeezing him as tight as she could.
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lilithandherharlots · 10 months
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Too shy to tell you
miguel o’hara x fem!reader
Miguel hides your heals in hopes of making you forget you ever owned a pair...he confesses about his theft during a hot and heavy night of sex.
Warnings: This might be interpreted as possessive or an unhealthy bond. Though its supposed to be just a very shy and respectful Miguel who let's loose during sex.:]
Authors note: I am not a writer!! This is my first time righting fanfic.. like.. ever!!! So don't attack me. Though honest, constructive criticism is something that I would love to hear. Sorry if there are spelling mistakes. Also, I don't know how to put proper description..... enjoy!!!!
:::
"Miggy?" I call out to my boyfriend who's currently towering over the coffee machine, waiting for it to brew.
"Yes, my love?" He responds with a look over his shoulder.
"Have you seen my black pointed heals? I can't seem to find them."
"No. Have you checked by the door?" He was lying.
He was lying. He was lying, and he didn't feel bad about it. The truth was he had stuffed them in the highest cupboard of the laundry room. He knew you couldn't reach it. He liked it that way. He couldn't let you open it since he had stuffed at least 4 pairs of heals in there.
"No miggy, they aren't here." You say after checking everywhere by the front door.
"Idk what to say, baby... we have to leave soon. Just throw on a different pair and I'll buy you some new ones later."
He was a liar... and he was damn good at it... until he wasn't.
:::
It was 2am. This insanity started hours ago, but Miguel's stamina wouldn't let down. Your soft moans could fuel him till sun rise, and he would love to do this forever. But unlike him, you have limits. Limits to your ability to stay strong, or at least keep yourself up right. But he doesn't really care. Your begs for a break won't succeed with a constantly starving man like him.
"One more round, please baby... please. I need you." His desperate begs caress your tear stained cheeks as he whispers them softly, leaning over you and filling you with sloppy thrust.
"Miguel- please.. It's too much.." You whine as you try to pull away, gripping desperately onto the sheets.
"Last one.... I promise..." he lies.
He said the same thing the last 4 rounds. If he could have it his way he'd continue. But he knew you couldn't keep going for much longer, so he used this opportunity to tell you what he couldn't bring himself to say otherwise.
"I lied..." he confesses. Watching your tits bounce with every rough trust, keeping himself busy while you tried to form a reply. It took you a while, but you managed to let out a soft hum, waiting for him to explain himself further.
"I took them. Your heels.. I fucking hate those things.." he thrust get faster as he says it. Hoping to make your brain foggy enough to not remember his confessions in the morning.
"I like your height, so why do you wear those weird things?" His heart felt lighter as he told you.
"I like that your height forces you to get on your tippy toes every time you want a kiss from me.. and even then, I have to bend over to reach you.... I like that you rely on me to reach those high shelves. Every time you ask me, you grow as red as a rose...."
You can feel his movements speed up. You can barely hear him... your mind fuzzy from pleasure. Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin felt like white noise at this point. The dim shadow of his frame covering you completely.
"You're so small under me.. your body falls any way I bend it..." At his point, he was just speaking the first thing to cross his mind.
You didn't hear him, and he knew it. Seconds later, you feel his weight shift, the mattress by your head sinking under his heavy hand as he leaned in and whispered.
"Please don't take that away from me."
His words were demanding. He felt exactly what he said. Even though your eyes were shut tight, you knew his eyes were locked on you. His breath heavy, as if he just confessed a dirty secret. He kinda did...
"Promise me.... Promise me you won't wear them and I'll help you cum."
As tired as you were. You wanted it. You needed it. You needed him. So you give in.
"F-fine... I promise."
"You promise what?" He smirked hearing your whiney voice.
"I promise I won't wear the heels!!"
The pleasure he got from you saying that was immense. He shifted his weight once more as he changed your position like a marionette doll. Spreading your legs apart. His hands wrapped around your thighs, and his claws dug into your skin. The stinging pain of it was a wake-up call, causing you to gasp for air.
This position caused him to go deeper. The sticky mess from your previous rounds was being pushed out of your aching hole. The sound of his hips hitting your ass grew louder with every precise thrust. They got louder and louder until they stopped. Your thighs had clenched closed as you hit that high you were chasing. And you took him with you. Tightening around his pulsing cock in a way that made him fill you to the brim once more.
He watched your body shake. Your hips jerking forward. He would usually take that as his sign to keep going, but your fucked out face was telling him you couldn't take another thrust.
"You did great my love..... my little angel~" He cooed gentle praises as he rubbed your claw marked thighs.
"I'll buy you the cutest flats."
:::
A thing he didn't know.. is that you lied, too. His secret cupboard was emptied, and your heal collection was restored... and yes.. he pouted in silence.
The end
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microclown · 4 months
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I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..
Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?
Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.
As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.
That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.
Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.
I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"
But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.
It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!
And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.
And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.
idk it just makes me feel things ok
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