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#i get what they mean when they say i saw a man so beautiful i started crying
i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days
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[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader
Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.
Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending
“Are you married?”
He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.
“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.
He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.
The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.
It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?
He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.
No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.
He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.
I’m sorry.
The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.
Please stay.
The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.
Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.
He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.
Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.
His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.
Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.
I miss you so much.
but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.
That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.
You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.
He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.
The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.
You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.
“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.
“Hey.” He mumbles.
The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.
Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...
He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.
“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.
because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.
It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.
“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”
“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”
“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”
“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”
“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”
“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”
“Anything else you want to say?”
“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”
“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”
He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.
Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.
“My pleasure.”
a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j
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laneywrld · 2 days
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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
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part one
word count: 9.2k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.
"Do you ever get tired?" 
Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.
"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.
Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.
"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"
Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.
"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.
"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.
They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.
He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.
Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.
Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 
What's cooler than an old lady? 
"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."
It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 
Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 
Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.
"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.
Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."
She surely doesn't recognize him.
And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"
"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 
"Yes, for the last four years."
"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"
"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."
"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.
"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.
"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.
"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."
As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 
Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.
The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"
And the rest was history.
Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.
She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.
Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 
He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 
"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.
"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."
"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."
She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.
"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"
"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 
From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.
"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"
"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 
"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.
"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"
She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "
For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.
"You sure do have a way with words."
"I try." 
Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.
"Do you think I'm annoying?"
"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"
"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."
"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"
"No, not really." 
"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"
"Yes."
That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 
"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."
And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."
"Okay."
"We can start now?"
"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.
"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"
She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 
"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."
"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"
She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.
"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"
"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."
"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.
"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"
Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.
"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.
Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.
"What have you lost?"
"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.
He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.
"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 
"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."
"Have you heard from him since?"
"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."
Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.
"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."
"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 
"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.
"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."
"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."
Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.
"Shit." 
She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 
She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 
When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.
She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 
"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."
"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 
"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 
Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.
Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 
Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.
Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.
And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.
Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.
Clementine was actually so fucking cool.
People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 
Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.
Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.
He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 
Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 
He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.
She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.
She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.
He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.
Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 
He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 
Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.
Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.
"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 
"Probably here."
As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.
Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.
"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”
-
The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.
She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 
When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.
Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 
There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.
She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.
"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 
"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."
She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.
"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.
"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.
His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.
"So it's a movie about eating people?"
Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 
"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."
"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"
Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.
Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 
He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 
He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 
He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.
Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.
Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 
Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.
As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 
"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"
-
When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 
She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.
When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 
If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 
Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.
Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 
Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 
She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.
Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 
Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.
Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.
In fact, she was fine with it. 
She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.
It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 
She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 
She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 
So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.
She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 
She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.
He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.
When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.
"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 
"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."
"You have been celebrating?"
"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"
Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."
His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"
"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.
Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.
He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.
"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.
"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.
"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"
"I touched down today after qualifying."
"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 
Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 
"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.
Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.
"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."
She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."
"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."
Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."
"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."
"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."
He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.
"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."
"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."
Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."
Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 
He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"
He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."
Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 
He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 
Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 
Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.
"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.
It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.
He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 
"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."
"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."
"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.
"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."
He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.
"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"
Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."
Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 
"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.
"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."
"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."
"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 
"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.
Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."
Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 
"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"
"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."
"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."
"Thank you." Lewis grins.
"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"
"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."
"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 
"Shower?"
"With you?" She wonders.
"If you're okay with that."
 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."
Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 
clementine
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clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  
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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.
tchalamet And she's done it again people.
badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️
pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.
user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.
-
As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.
Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 
"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.
"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"
Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."
Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 
When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."
He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 
She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.
"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"
"About a week." 
Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.
"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"
Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"
Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."
Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 
"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 
He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 
"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"
Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 
Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.
Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.
Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.
It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 
He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?
She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 
"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 
SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 
"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"
SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."
"You're the best, SK." she smiles.
"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."
-
Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 
He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.
"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."
Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 
He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.
When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.
He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.
thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.
- 🍊
He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.
Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.
Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.
He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.
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mcflymemes · 2 days
Text
DUNE (2021) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary. suggested by lalamoon
it's good you're up early.
why do we have to go through all this, when it's already been decided?
if you want it, make me give it to you.
you look tired. more dreams?
there is no call we do not answer.
you put on muscle!
i would like you to take me with you.
can i trust you with something?
so you dreamed about stuff we all know about.
i dreamt about you.
i saw you lying dead, fallen in battle.
dreams make good stories, but everything important happens while we're awake.
i wish we could bring them all with us.
you don't think we'll ever come back?
i understand your impatience.
great leaders are raised in the mud, not around tables.
don't throw my words back at me.
i told my father i didn't want this either.
a good man doesn't seek to lead. he's called to it, and he answers.
i found my own way to it. you might find yours.
we have to be ready for anything.
don't stand with your back to the door.
i guess i'm not in the mood today.
you fight when the necessity arises, no matter your mood.
i have you.
will it be that bad?
you don't really understand the grave nature of what's happening to us.
the last of our ships have left.
to break a virtuous man, give him a burden too heavy to bear. a lesser man would drop it, but a good man will carry it 'til it crushes him.
get dressed and come with me.
what's in the box?
i must not fear. fear is the mind killer.
an animal caught in a trap will gnaw off its own leg to escape.
i will face my fear.
tell me about these dreams.
do you dream things that happen just as your dreamed them?
i could have died.
how does it feel to walk on another world?
how are you, old friend?
they were pointing at us. what are they shouting?
let's get you out of the sun.
if you mean to harm me, i warn you. whatever you're hiding won't be enough.
treat them well. these are friends.
i have so much to tell you.
that is all i have to say to you.
wait 'til you see. it's beautiful out there.
you're out of your mind! we're not going out there!
i knew you couldn't stay the hell away.
legend is a pretty word for a lie.
i think you're afraid it might be true.
how can i make my way if my destiny was written before i was born?
you have to sleep.
why not just cut their throats?
don't you dare touch my mother!
it's not safe for you here.
you're not coming with us?
one move and you die.
i would not have let you hurt my friends.
you chose the hardest way up.
i will not have them.
this will be an honor for you to die holding it.
this world will kill you.
do you yield?
this is only the beginning.
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blingblong55 · 2 days
Text
Gold Rush- Vladimir Makarov
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Based on a request: heyy! I love your writing style and am I big simper for makarov!<3 Ignore this if you don't want to do it but what about reader being apart of makarov's crew and him falling in love with them during a mission. Thank you sooo much if ur going to do this!<333 ---- F!Reader, fluff/romance? ----
Being part of Konni was always a risk, especially when the rest of the world is against you and your teammates. Makarov, the man who started everyone just so happened to be by your side in this mission. He was rough, cold and serious, rarely making jokes unless you were a part of his inner circle. Tonight, he leads the team through yet another dangerous mission. 
You were walking towards another part of the enemy base when he stopped you. He shakes his head, "Too risky, take left," he commands but you know this place best. "If I take left the guards will notice me, this way is their blind spot, trust me," you voice above a whisper. "If you get us caught-"
"I won't," you cut him off. 
For nearly three hours, the team and you sneaked around, gathering as much intel as possible before sunrise. 
By the time the helo had arrived, he allowed you to go first, weird for a man like him to care about such things. On the way back to base, he sits beside you, "Smart move back there, Y/n," he says in a much softer voice. What he hadn't expected was for him to develop a soft spot for a person in his team, much less you. 
It didn't start tonight, no, this took time to develop. 
About two years ago, that is when he first noticed you. The team and you were just hanging around, it was an odd day, with no work or worries. He watches how his men laugh, how you sit by the corner, listening but not engaging and he takes note of that. With time, he notices how blunt you were, how you didn't glorify anything, especially not him. All others did, well those who were allies to his so-called 'cause'. 
You didn't mean to be mean when you were honest, you just said things like how you saw them, even with him. Another thing he noticed was how shy you were, but when asked your words spoke differently to how you are. 
With time, he found himself smiling at what you did, the dumb jokes only you and the person telling them understood. Secretly, he began to memorise you. It would be a fear to others if he did this but in this light, it was romantic. He began to notice the smile you had when you'd read a book and it got to an interesting part. 
One night, he sat down on some stairs, looking up at the starry night as smoke ran in his lungs. He did this only when he knew you'd be jogging around base, sleepless nights were your excuse but he knew the real reason. 
Others noticed how kind he was to you, how he never laughed when you were the butt of the joke. It became clear when he would only beeline to you when books were in his hand. All in Russian but as he said, "The author made it in Russian because the emotions are better written."
He always had a book he needed you to read. In some cryptic way, the words between pages and titles were his way of being a poet to the girl in the jogging shoes. 
Tonight, as the team arrives back on base, he asks you to stay back. 
Why be feared if you, yourself fear something?
The walk to his office was calm, screw whoever said comfortable silence was overrated. This silence with him was nice, it was...beautiful in some way. 
"I wanted to...say something I think is idiotic to say, especially for a man like me," he starts. Your gaze on his soft eyes, those heterochromatic eyes. 
He takes a deep breath and continues, "I like you. I like all about you and I think I would be a fool if I never said this. You can act as shy as you want, and pretend I annoy you, but I want a lot of things with you. I've read poems that remind me of you. I like our night routines, I like how you know the real me. I like how everyone here adores you...at least I do. I didn't like how you have become the only person I get nervous around but...now, I do. But I do hate that you make me feel excited, happy and hopeful and that you know me better than anyone. I hate worrying about you so if you must, reject me now so I can have a real reason to hate myself too."
His eyes desperately looking at yours and when a smile appears on that beautiful face of yours, he smiles too. 
For three months, he and you get close. Milena, the woman everyone, even the enemies, thinks is his lover only stays close so she can finally see a long-time friend happy. 
Everywhere he goes, those sweet eyes you've come to love steal glances at you. Small, secret smiles capture no one but the eyes of each other. He becomes the constant in your life as you do to his. 
In this world, he shouldn't show anyone his shiny toy. He mustn't since he knows others will break the one fragile thing he allows himself to have. So, like the flower-covered coat pockets in his home, he keeps you tucked away for when his hands can be fragile again.
Tags: @liyanahelena @johfaam0 @goldenmclaren @rvivienner @frazie99 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @strangepuppynightmare @strawberrychita @Llelannie @anonymuslydumb @nobodys-coffee @rowrowrowyourboat13 @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @marshiely @baruque-ya @tuihiatus @iruzias @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo
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patty-08 · 3 days
Text
Saw by touch
spencer reid x f blind!reader
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warnings: kidnapping, blood, death
Author’s note: I'm not blind and English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:
Darkness. I was used to the dark, but this was different, it was quiet but at the same time so loud and scary. I was in a room that wasn't too big, and from the quiet squeaking and dripping sounds, I assumed I was in the basement. Apart from the rats, I was alone. Tied to a chair with dried tears on my cheeks, dehydrated and hungry. I stopped crying and begging for him to let me go some time ago. I don't know how long it has been since my kidnapping. At the beginning, I tried to count, but it didn't work out. A man kidnapped me and since then he came to me three times, he didn't do anything, he just stood there and watched me begging him to let me go. Then I heard the door open.
'hey, we had a good time together, but it has to end' he was nervous.
I knew what the end meant. Death.
'hey... you don't have to do this, you can just let me go, I don't even know what you look like... I won't tell anyone' I tried to calm him down
'I am not stupid!' I flinched at the sudden shout 'if I let you go, you'll go to the police right away' then I felt a blade on my neck.
'no, I won't go to the police, we can just forget about it, you don't have to do it' now tears were streaming down my face
'shut up, shut up!' he pressed the blade a little harder and I felt warm blood trickle down my neck
suddenly the door opened with a bang and I heard
'FBI' immediately feeling a slight relief, there is still hope
'Ronald, get away from her and get on the ground,' said one of the male agents
'no, if I do this, I'll go to jail' said Ronald, as I've learned, pressing the knife harder from stress.
'and if you kill her you'll end up in jail or we'll shoot you... just let her go'
'no' he moved the blade against my neck and almost at the same time I heard the gun go off.
'hey hey you're okay, everything will be fine' said the same agent while pressing something to my neck to stop the bleeding while in the background I heard another agent calling an ambulance.
'I-' I tried to say something
'calm down... don't say anything, my name is Spencer, the ambulance is on its way' he tried to calm me down
After about two minutes of listening to Spencer's soothing voice, the ambulance arrived and as the paramedics took me away on a stretcher and before I lost consciousness, I only managed to whisper
'Thank you'
I woke up to the faint beeping of machines
'hey' it was Spencer
'where am I?'
'in the hospital, it's over' he reassured me
'and Ronald?'
'he died' he replied almost immediately 'he won't hurt you anymore'
'thank you... for saving'
'it's my job'
'still, thank you... can I touch you?... I mean, I-I know your name and voice, but my eyes are replaced by hands and I would like to know what my savior looks like' I stuttered a little
'yy- I- sure' he came closer, offering me his hand
from his hand my hands went towards his face, gently examining it.
'I have light brown eyes and light brown hair,' he said helping
he was beautiful, I knew it even when I saw him by touch.
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luselih · 1 day
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Hii im not sure if you write about him but could you write a fic with fem reader and leonardo from blue lock where she loses her virginity to him and could you make him an ass man if you can theres so little writing of him? Thank you so much if you do❤️❤️
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summary/ask: Your new boyfriend take your virginity, it couldn’t end badly, right?
content warnings | smut so minors don’t interact!, age gap (he’s 27, reader is around 20), virgin reader, chubby reader (hinted/written in mind for!), he is a major asshole, a bit (probably lot) dubious/non consensual in a lot of parts so that a warning, innocence kink?, mentions of jerking off, breast play, pussy inspection 😢, fingering, without protection, missionary and cowgirl assisted (he’s dom), filthy and mean, he is NOT gentle 😬, creamie, clit play, overstimulation, angst on end! (spoiler-he leaves you) + more?…
a/n - #1 i kinda tried a different method of writing but it ended up being almost as same as oliver’s one 😭
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Leonadro Luna. Name that a lot fans of football world know, a handsome player from Spain who is playing for Real Madrid is very valuable for that club. You yourself can’t even wrap your mind around the fact that he is indeed your boyfriend of 2 months. Basically every single woman wants him in their bedsheets every night but they don’t have that privilege like you do. I mean you don’t really even use it yourself because you couldn’t bring yourself to lose it. Your virginity.
Leonardo Luna knew that you were virgin the moment he laid his eyes upon you that day at his football match. When his team won against FC Barcha for 4th time that season but fans cheered for them like lunatics, he could see you with your friends cheering for him, wearing a jersey with his name and number on it at shinny stadium and since it was hotter than a devil’s lava bath you tie your jersey on your stomach so it obviously becomes visible to everyone, but he caught it as his club celebrated and started leaving field to shower and to continue to celebrate all night long.
When he passed around tribune and entrance for the interview line he saw you and that shy and excited smile on your lips as you and friend stood there waiting for him to speak to you maybe, you two just wanted autographs from him on your world cup cards of him you pulled out after countless tries to get him.
You thought that your biggest dream was being archived, he really did came to you two and greeted as he take a marker he said thank you for as he autographed your cards.
“I didn’t know that i got two pretty girls like you two as fans and i can’t say that i am mad at it. A little autograph would make you happy? Such nice and humble girls i see in front of me…”
You sweared that your knees almost gave up on you as he flirted with you two, as he was writing his name on your card, security guards came to take you away since he was running late for his interview, as your friend passed with her card to exit, you felt something you didn’t expected. His arm on your shoulder. He gave you a flirtatious smile and whispered to you.
“I like your style quite well, so i guess a little date wouldn’t hurt too much, would it? Here this is my number, text me when you get time”
You sweared that your cheeks got warm as he slipped a tiny paper with his number on it in your pocket and had to let you go. You just got…??? Your first ever date??? and with LEONARDO LUNA??? THE Leonardo Luna? You sweared you almost become crazy as everything settled down in your mind as you got to your place.
Since then, every text, call and date was almost too good to be true. He can be a real gentleman with you, take you out and make you feel like only girl in the entire world. Every praise and complaint got you to fall for him even more and more everyday. If only you knew what is behind those beautiful green eyes and perfect smile.
Poor you, if you only knew how many times he jerked himself off at the thought of your body, he could feel every single twitch of your body at first. Gosh he almost got addicted to your innocence, your inexperience was…almost too much for him. He swerved he got a biggest bonner when you hesitantly said you don’t have that experience yet, you want to lose it with him. He got a grip on himself as he praised you for being true to yourself and himself, while letting you know that he is here for you whenever you feel like you are feeling ready for it.
That day has finally arrived.
As usual for the last month, every weekend you were watching a movie with him at your place. His arm wrapped around your shoulders as his other held tv remote as you two watched anything that was interesting for both of you. You slowly started to think it was time to do it. Empty house, lights lidded and moment was perfect. So you take a deep breath and turned your head to your boyfriend and bring your face closer to his face, giving him a couple soft experimental kisses on his cheek and jaw, his arm slide from your shoulder to your waist as he softly chuckled and whispered as you feel a singular kiss on neck.
“getting touchy all of sudden, hmm…?”
“i just wanted to say that…i think i am ready for…y’know what...”
You really thought that it was going like it should be going on, talk about it, conformation and giving consent, going slowly as you guys make love all night long with a lot of kissing and comforting words being said to each other as your bodies melt together. Oh my my-how wrong you really was you just realized.
After not even a second, your body was forced into submission as you yelped at the sudden movement, his hands holding your hands on your sides as you looked up at him shocked.
“Well finally i can get some of it, don’t make it latter like you didn’t want this too pretty thing”
You sweared that you didn’t wanted everything that happened after that moment, but gosh it made your body feel heavenly. Every mean and harsh thing he did to you was overwhelming to your inexperienced pussy.
The way he practically smacked your lips together in kiss as his hand put your arms over your head as other went underneath your shirt on your boob and give it firm squeeze, you moaned into his lips as it caught you off guard.
Even if you wanted to say anything, his lips chased yours like it’s a need, flipping your shirt up and revealing your pretty bra that he pulled down harshly, your pretty breast and soft nipples to cold air of a room making them instantly harden. After pulling out kiss that left you hazy and breathless his mouth immediately went after those perky little things. His tongue immediately licked it over slightly, your body jerked in response of new sensation. His mouth sucked deliriously on your nipple as other played with other, pulling and pinching your nipple between his fingers. After your boobs were covered in pretty bite marks he finally pulled his face and admired his artwork, your body already twitching from stimulation, so close to climax.
His hand immediately slipped between your legs and toyed with your clit over your pants with his thumb, you immediately starting to grind against his hand, trying your chase that finish that was so fucking close. With no surprise when your body twitched so deliciously, back arching as you got to climax, your breath rigged and your eyes teary.
“Is baby already feeling tired, well to bad~”
He pulled his clothes off, his broad shoulders and 6 pack shining in dim light as his sweatpants showed off brand of his high branded underwear, slowly pulling down your pants off your hips as he only left you in your panties, your mouth suddenly getting dry as you can’t even say a well formulated sentence, your arms not even daring to move from above your head clinging into fabric of the couch like a life line.
His long fingers passed from middle of your chest to side of your panties, tip of fingers hooking into a thin material and pulling it to the side, revealing the prettiest scene he saw since lord knows when. Your tight cunny glistening with your own cum as you hole twitched, crying for dick like it’s a need, gosh he wants to ruin you for any other man ever. His finger, gently yet firmly stared moving over her staring from your tiny bud of clitoris, teasing it lightly and drink in your whiny reactions then spreading your inner and outer lips of vagina as he looks at your hole inspecting your private part barely any centimeters away from it, it is so humiliating you can barely keep your eyes open.
After confirming your claim he slipped his ring finger into your awaiting hole suddenly, making you yelp at the stretch and uncomfortable feeling, he didn’t waited a second, putting a hand over your mouth and adding another finger it, exploring and memorizing your insides like a map to a secret treasure. Tears brimming again on your eyes as you climaxed again on his 4 fingers on end, pulling out his hand he smiled so sweetly at the visible stretch between your legs. “At least you won’t cry like past girl” he thought quickly.
Pulling his pants off he slide his underwear off and his 7 inch long cook dripped with pre cum, light hair barely visible as he pulled your legs to the side of his body and leaned down closer to your face as he lined it with your entrance, making you automatically letting out a chocked gasp as you knew and hold onto his shoulders as he bullied his head into a tightest hole he was ever been in, your cries of a stretch almost completely ignored as he just kissed your bottom lip as he continued. Pink cook head aligning with your cervix very quickly but he continued anyway till his heavy balls slapped against your ass checks and you practically feel him in your throat.
His thrust hard, fast and mean after he let you get comfortable for barely a minute before he rammed into your pussy like a mad man. His body pressing your into a couch as your shared kisses and skin slapping against each other filled the room quickly. You holding into his shoulders for any support and sanity in that moment as you let him shape your insides to his likings.
From the pit inside your stomach you felt that you are so close to climax again, your toes curling as you creamed around his dick while he continued to fuck you senseless. Every push you tried to make because of overstimulation was unsuccessful to say the least. He didn’t even pull out when he felt he was getting close, he just pulled you by your forearm up and flipped you two. Your boobs bouncing as his hands keep your pace, his hands harshly pulling your ass checks apart as he bullied his dick so deep within you that you almost pass out from everything.
With final snap of your hips he stuffed your hole full, his white cum escaping as he pulled out and watched in satisfaction as it poured on a fabric of your couch so quickly and sexy. Settling you back on a couch your lifeless body was a mush, your eyes barely open as you were about to pass out any moment. He kissed your cheek slightly as he looked at you and your poor body for the last time before he went to shower in your bathroom and left you.
Next day you were greeted by his profiles and numbers not being available to you and your trust towards love now broken, you really though it can’t get any worse, you did?
well…let’s see what that pink stick with 2 bold red lines have to say about it now ;)
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urheartsamess · 4 months
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woo dohwan as nam seonho in my country: the new age
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tender-rosiey · 7 months
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smack, smack — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: special thanks to the beautiful @stinkyme for inspiring me to actually write this and for fangirling over the idea with me <3
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gojo satoru, like any dad, got his fair share of ‘bullying’ from his daughter, his 5 months old baby.
some dads get peed on, others get their hair pulled, and others get their nose bitten on the daily. it's a little something to make them suffer a bit like the mothers had to during the pregnancy.
your husband, however, is always getting smacked in the face whenever he has his blindfold on, and I mean harshly smacked in the face and unforgiving scratching.
the first time it happened was when he was going to school. he was ready, uniform on and everything, but he simply had to say goodbye to his two girls.
skipping to your shared bedroom, he placed two big smooches on your face. then, after much of pulling him off you, he went to smooch his little girl. a big unmatched grin was on his face as he looked down at her in her crib.
he picked her up, cooing softly at her, “what a pretty girl, just as pretty as your mama, huh?”
satoru then laid her gently against his chest and started rocking her softly, while humming. after a while, he felt her stir a little in his arms. she sleepily looks up at him, and he smiles down at her, “good morning, baby—“
now, your daughter was used to seeing her dad without the blindfold. she was used to getting met by her dad's bright blue eyes.
so when a strange unknown man was holding her up instead of her papa, she started wailing and screaming, repeatedly smacking him in the face.
whenever her little—strong—hand landed on the blindfold, she would try to pull it off with all her baby might. you scrambled out of your bed at the loud screeches and screams of both your husband and your daughter.
you saw how satoru was desperately trying to, as gently as possible, make her release her grip. you stumbled on your words, before yelling, “your blindfold! take off your blindfold off!”
“I! am! trying!” he yelps as she continues slapping the hell out of his face.
you hurry and take his blindfold off, swiftly throwing it to the side. he started rocking her, smiling despite the red marks and scratches all over his handsome face, “it’s me, daddy! you see me?”
almost magically, your daughter calmed down in an instant with the occasional hiccup from her previous crying. he smiled, “there you go; that’s my girl.”
she gently made grabby hands at him, and he quickly pulled her back into his chest. your daughter instantly snuggled into his shoulder and hid her face in his neck.
you stared at him for a moment, “well, at least we know that she bloody hates that blindfold.”
it honestly kind of adds up.
you remember the many times that your daughter was generally distressed or fussy and instantly calmed down when she saw her dad’s eyes. you also remember that one time your daughter was actually zoning out while looking at satoru’s eyes, her own safe place.
satoru chuckles with a shrug, “I have you as my savior, anyway.”
“you can’t always count on me to be the one to save you from our daughter’s monstrously strong grip.”
and he can’t.
no one is brave enough to try and to fight back a baby, let alone the strongest sorcerer’s baby.
that attack happens way more than satoru would like. for example, whenever you’re busy, he takes his little princess to the school with him. in general, everyone helps in taking care of the little angel (devil in some cases).
however, god forbid she sees satoru coming back from a mission with his blindfold on.
it took some time for your husband to learn his lesson and immediately take his blindfold off before he entered the school. until then, he was prone to his daughter’s crazy strong hand smacking his face till his entire face is painted red and not the cute kind.
satoru never believed in his students to save him, except for yuuji. the first time it happened around the students, most of them were either laughing or speechless.
yuuji did try to save his sensei from his smacking machine of a daughter, but ended up getting smacked himself.
your husband did hope that, maybe, nanami’s heart would soften, and he would finally help him.
nanami’s heart did soften, just not for satoru. instead, your daughter now has a special soft spot in nanami’s heart, as he did in hers, but that isn’t our topic for today.
the amount of times you would enter the room to find nanami chuckling or smiling at your husband getting beaten to a pulp by your baby. satoru could be sobbing, “nanami, please! save me!”
and nanami would simply smile—sadistically—and hum, “I don’t think I will.”
you’re pretty sure that nanami believes this is god’s way of punishing your husband for all the mischief he caused.
ignoring that, it grips your heart how satoru’s face would brighten up the moment he saw you. he would run up to you, giving you the baby to calm her down while he gives his face a rest.
and your little girl was smiling and giving you her version of cheek kisses.
your husband recovered quickly though, and took her back, his blindfold finally off. he doesn’t do it without pecking your lips though, “my savior.”     
then he gets lost in his own world with his little girl, and their laughs and giggles filled the room. her hands were gently holding her dad’s face as she squeals, and satoru’s heart soars as he forgets about his beating from a moment ago.
now, that doesn’t mean that his dear students don’t make fun of him for always losing against his little girl. during one of the recent teasings, he simply huffed, “you never tried the grip of a baby! tell them, yuuji!”
yuuji shudders as he remembers how long the slap mark lasted, “she is one hell of a strong baby.”
it’s one thing for panda and nobara to laugh, it’s another for megumi and maki to do so as well. your husband’s ego simply couldn’t take it anymore. he took his baby in his arms and gathered the baby bags, sparing one last glance at his ‘bullies’.
and so your husband dramatically exits the room, “I need my wife! I can’t with you people anymore!”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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hxltic · 9 months
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ghost yellin pt. 2!! (and 2k followers. omg.)
(mention of blood n knives n stuff in here)
pt. 1~~~
It was still early in the morning when your puffy eyes blink open. Despite the mission that had your arrival around 3-ish in the morning, it was still the crack of dawn, which meant the start of your day, mission or not.
The warmth you had longed for encased you, but today, it felt unfamiliar.
You hadn’t forgotten about yesterday (or earlier today). And even though what happened upset you, you’d still wanted him, so you could feel the comfort your father never gave you after an argument. You’d never received a genuine apology from him, just an offer for new shoes or to go to your favorite restaurant that day.
Even in anguish after what he did, you still wanted his touch. Or that may have been what you thought, because now you were peeling his strong arms off you, and creeping to the bedside. You cautiously swing your legs over and slowly step to the door, but even though you were going unbelievably slow, the pain underneath your feet made you wince.
“Wait—”
There’s a gruff voice that your back is turned to, making you jump at the realization he was awake. You had been taught all your life to fight when your fight or flight response flickers, but he noticed how you almost bolted towards your room.
He had been awake the whole time. He’d vouched to himself he wouldn’t close his eyes until your breaths were regular again, but even after they had, he’d barely gotten any sleep. If he had tears left to cry, one would’ve slipped.
Whenever he did fall to the night, in any circumstance, his body physically would prevent him from staying such. He was a light sleeper to another extreme. His body was trained by none other than trauma and instinct. So when he felt you raising his arm, he’d awakened and watched you do everything silently.
He would’ve said something, but he didn’t know what. An apology would sound fake in this situation.
Ghost was a hands-on man, so he moved. His large body flipped the covers off him and hastily brought itself to you.
The last time you’d let him get close, he screamed in your face. You took an involuntary step back, but had you thought about it you probably would’ve taken it anyway. His quick steps pause.
He gazes into your frozen eyes, glistening and pretty even in upset, but underneath carrying fear and shock.
Seeing him, one side of you wanted to apologize for not taking your job seriously, even though you did, or say you were sorry for the other things he mentioned. And you may have when you were 13, but you were a strong woman that built off men’s bullshit over the years, so you hold your ground.
He shrunk himself and moved effectively before you. No unnecessary movements.
“Please. Wait.”
You could tell he was trying to make his voice soft, but the octave and accent just did not allow it. He was trying though.
Do you book it, or stay?
You stay, to hear him. He recognizes your stance as one specifically military-taught, ready to move.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I should’ve been better,” he started. You’d come to realize even with small issues, he was an okay apologizer. “I’m sorry. You’re the last person who deserved that.”
He inspected the way you heard him but just stood there awkwardly. You were never awkward around him. In fact, he was the awkward one.
His heart dropped at how visibly uncomfortable you looked. He wanted to touch you—to take all your problems away, but it wouldn’t work this time. Not when he was the problem.
Ghost was the type of person to do anything for you, anything to get you back. You were the only one who saw him as Simon now, ever since the others died or were killed. He ruined that.
He let the mask get the best of him, finally turning into the murderous, scary man the world sees him as, everyone but you. You’d never been afraid of him, and he himself had changed that.
So in the silence he scans your beautiful eyes again, the brightness they usually reflect gone and replaced. You blink at him like a puppy. A small, scared puppy.
He’d made you cry. He’d made you cry.
He wasn’t expecting forgiveness, or your usual unconditional love, but the silence was too much to bear. He knows what he did, but he genuinely has no idea how he could make it up to you. Once you realize the conversation was over, and that’s all he had to say, you turn your head and limp past the doorway to your room. You were going to cry again.
But that was far from what he wanted to say.
He didn’t realize it when a tear of his own bundled up under his blonde eyelashes, a feeling so rare that people’s jokes about him being a robot could seem true. It had been so long, but watching you sadly walk away from him was enough.
The door was wide open, but he stood there, feeling more useless than he ever had.
These were the times he wished his mother was here. To tell him what to do. To spread the emotional knowledge of loving someone so much it pained you, something she had perfected over the years. Instead, he picked up the brutalities of his father. And he will never forgive him for that.
. .
You’d avoided him for an entire day, almost two, despite being in such close proximity and having to do everything with the squad. He didn’t know whether to leave you be or try again and again. Ultimately, he picked the first. That didn’t mean there weren’t subtle things to get your attention though.
He couldn’t think about yelling again. But it was only at you. So everyone else was graced with their lieutenant in a worse mood than he’s usually in, but they wouldn’t dare ask what was up or say anything to you. Actually, they had barely spoken to you like they had orders not to.
Ghost was rarely in the common room anyway, but now he was really tucked away in his quarters. He preserved his words, though even then they were still snappy. He had an attitude, yes, but he’d come to his senses enough to reflect and prevent himself from saying anything potentially hurtful.
He’d cherished the moments you had no choice but to be close to him a lot more than before, and his voice was barely even the tone of regular speech. Because now, he was scared.
He’d seen how bad relationships can turn, and it doesn’t help it was the man he’s seen all his life ruining what a woman gave him. He doesn’t want to be like that. And if he already has been, he tries to calm himself at night by running through his head “you’re already better than him by trying to fix it,” like a mantra. He’s cried the nights without you. He felt like he was floating away all the time, away from the Earth and the people around him. He barely knows himself anymore.
Little does he know, the time spent without him converted your sadness to anger. Rage.
He has the audacity to scream in your face? After all you do for him? After you put your life on the fucking line and take bullets for him every day?
With your father, it never did convert to anger, because you refused to let it. Being a child, you were way too dependent on him emotionally and physically. He was still your dad, you’d think.
And yes, while you loved Simon, there wasn’t the biological connection to pressure you to him. He was just a man. And if there’s anything you learned yourself, it was that you wouldn’t be pushed around by one.
So the day progressed on with an assignment. The troops were sent out, Ghost in charge.
He had made an order to surround the building, stay hidden in tall grass. A few would push in. They were armed and dangerous.
His voice was loud through the comms, going directly through the headset clear as day. Your team pressed forward alongside his. He had made every order around the fact that you needed to be right next to him, always in view, so he could keep his watchful eye out.
You crouched around the corner, waiting for command. You whisper in mic to your own squad, instructing them to watch for third-party while everyone’s idle.
The second he calls it, you all infiltrate right after smoke grenades set off. It was quickly cleared of the criminal within a few minutes because there weren’t many to take out, just a few in nooks and crannies, but one of them had caught you through a closet door. It had small blinded windows in it.
A quick sharp pain let you know there was a knife drilled into your side. It was small, and could be a lot deeper, but it still hurt like a bitch.
You had taken worse, so you gunned him down with a swift turn and ignored it. The adrenaline was medicine.
Once everyone returned to base with evac, people noticed the spot of red on your uniform but brushed it off as a battle scar. Until they saw the knife. It would be stupid to remove it.
“That looks pretty bad, you should get that patched up,” someone says. Someone you didn’t know, probably from another unit. You refrain from saying no shit and keep walking to the infirmary.
You finally decide remove it with added pressure to the wound, keeping the gauze close and the slim slit through your skin tight. The adrenaline was wearing off now and everything started to come back to you. You groan loudly when you touch it.
Red stains your fingers. It wasn’t deep but it had to be pulled out, and standing would be hard. You sit to see what you were doing.
“Fuck!” you yell.
The pain was ten times worse when you sat down, the fold of your body at the hip right underneath the opening. You feel like you could imagine the knife scraping other parts of your insides.
Suddenly the door opens. No one other than Ghost stands there, fully in gear, searching for the source of the cry. Once he locates you, you barely hear him murmur “bloody hell.” You glance up at him, then back down to what you were doing. He tries to ignore the equivalent stab in his heart at that, the one that matched the way his face drops at the sight of you. You would be able to see the white of his eyes through the mask if you’d look at him.
You were unconsciously trembling, attempting to mentally prepare yourself to pull the knife out slow. The man before you just watched.
“Get out,” you demanded.
“No,” he calmly replies. Once again, barely above a whisper, but heavy with accent.
You visibly roll your eyes and continue picking at the knife, trying to find the easiest way to retrieve it. Of course Ghost would take this time to be near you when you can’t run away from him.
He removes his gloves and opens the cabinets beside him, getting peroxide and other medical things. He walks to you with them in hand, and you bring it upon yourself to completely ignore him.
He steadily drops to a knee in front of you so you see eye to eye. You hiss when you pull at one side and it doesn’t work.
Softly, he breaks the silence, “When did this happen?”
No response. He was looking you dead in the eyes despite how horrible at eye contact he usually is.
“When did-“
“Earlier, Lieutenant.” You speak. He knows this was you digging at him. It worked, but he brushes it off.
He reaches his bare hands rid of the supplies up to help you. He was mad at nobody other than himself for not being there.
“Stop,” you shoo his hand away, tending back to your wound. Even though he wanted to help, he backed off.
To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, and he’d probably had this happen a thousand times. He was inevitably better at medical anything compared to you.
“How did it happen?” He waits. Wasting time talking to him will have you bleeding out. The knife was a little under halfway visible.
“I was taking my job seriously, Lieutenant.”
He cringes at the words he’s shameful to call his own. He wants nothing more than for you to at least be on speaking terms with him, but even that he knows he doesn’t deserve. He sighs deeply.
“I’m sorry, let me help you. Please,” he begs.
“I don’t want your help, and you don’t want mine. So we can keep it that way.”
What he said that night was far from true; you did more than just help him. He was dependent on you. He surveys the way you hiss at the straining feeling, attempting to take deep breaths between tugs, but only making it worse. He won’t let everything you’re throwing at him break him down in this state.
“Grab it from the top, do it all at once. Then stop the blood immediately.”
You huff in annoyance at his words, causing yourself pain from your own irritation. But, he did know what he was doing, so you followed the orders. He inspects you.
You tug on the knife with a painful deep breath and moan at the pain, shutting your eyes. The view alone gives Simon whatever you’re feeling tenfold.
It only goes up about a centimeter. It hurt so bad though, your breaths were heavy and enhancing the stinging sensation. Your audible whimper was enough for the man in front of you to take action.
You almost forgot how mad you were at him from the pain, so when his hands reached up to you, you just let them. His right applied pressure to the sides. He couldn’t care that it stained his rough, pale hands. The left rests on your hand planted on the seat, then he instructs you to lay down. It’ll avoid scratching any more areas inside by stretching out.
“Relax. It’ll hurt, but you got it.”
You don’t respond to this, and stare up at the ceiling. You still didn’t want to look at him.
Simon has to remember you were still fairly untouched in comparison to his background in the military, the scars and scratches proof to where he’s been. He’s not used to being gentle. He’s around grown men for god’s sake.
And while he knows you’re strong, he wishes someone took the time to allow him some vulnerability back then.
You’re on your back, awaiting his next move. He hovers over you.
“I’mna to count to three, alright? I know you can do it.”
You blink, but he knows you can hear him. Somehow it hurts worse to breathe so your chest runs shallow.
“One,” he starts.
Were you ready? He was going to-
You scream loud enough to have the entire base questioning what was going on before he gets to three, but Simon’s face doesn’t falter from his soft expression as he accurately rips the object out of you. Your hands subconsciously reach for his, then grip him with a pure strength you didn’t even know you possessed. You yelled a long line of curses with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes until it all ended as fast as it came.
You were heaving and your face was hot, sweat gathering along your hairline.
“There you go,” he praises, his movements were quick and efficient. The tape was being placed over the filled injury. “Good girl.”
You were breathless, tired, and red. You wanted to lay down.
“It hurts, Simon,” you whisper.
“I know baby, I know.”
. .
You laid in bed with the dinner one of the soldiers brought you. Simon walks in sometime later, his hand cupped.
“You alright?”
He steps in beside your bed, sitting on the covers. He releases some painkillers right next to the water on your nightstand.
You just nod.
He nods approvingly back, then rests his forearms on his thighs. There’s an uncomfortable silence. An uncomfortable silence.
The ink on his arm was visible along with the scars he’s carried. Some new, some old. It’s a simple t-shirt that stops at the bicep, but he never likes to have his arms out because he’s never comfortable with them showing.
“I just wanted to say—”
“I…don’t want to hear it.” You shut him down.
“Please?”
His ocean eyes survey yours for some type of mercy, some hint you’ll hear him out again. He has concluded that he can speak, but the worst that can happen is you’ll stop listening. You can’t really walk away.
And this was the first time his please seemed to end with a question mark.
“I didn’t mean to yell, but I did, and it hurt you. Even though I just aided you, I did it as a partner. Not just a comrade. You are great at what you do, but you mean a lot more to me than just business—I love you, because you see me differently than everyone else.”
Knowing Simon, it probably did take him the whole day and a half to come up with that and relay it. This tugged your heart strings a little, but then it all came back to you.
“On top of calling me useless you yelled in my face. What were you so angry for anyway?”
Truthfully, he felt that had he told you the real reason, It’d make him look worse. But you deserved it.
“One of the soldiers in another unit looked into my background. Found out about an old mission and the people behind it.”
You hadn’t known much about Simon’s life, because he never talks about it, but you knew enough. It was the mission where he was set up. Betrayed.
You would be pissed too.
But his head hung low in shame, angry that he let an old part of him rekindle in the form of fury. He let out said fury on you.
“Regardless, it was uncalled for. Just think on it, yeah?” He pleads. He’s not sure what he’s telling you to think on, though he doesn’t know the active status of your relationship. But he understands how degrading what he did was, and he’ll never forgive himself for it.
But you already had an answer.
“I don’t have to think on it,” you say.
His head whips around, the sadness on his face replaced with shock, and the crinkles coming to form between his brows in confusion. He’d expected the worst, but the worst was what he deserved.
“I’m still very upset. But I don’t hate you. I want you to go to therapy,” you insist.
On the inside, Simon was thrilled. This is the best outcome, better than anything he’d conjured up in his head, and he’d been told a billion times to go to therapy. If it meant being able to hold you again, he’d stay the whole day on a little couch instead of downing prescribed medication that wasn’t working every night.
“I’ll think about what to do from there. But I don’t want it to happen again, because I promise I know what my decision will be the next time,” you declare. He took this message more seriously than he takes Price some days. There was a fire in your eyes to show him how serious you were, and that you’d get up extra close to him just to point your finger in his face if you could.
He understood you hadn’t forgave him, but was giving him some type of redemption. So he could prove himself.
And he was damn good at proving himself worthy of things, hence the Lieutenant in front of his name.
this a lil long. @thesecretwriter @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @jjmoonjj @bigmannico @bloodyquillink-blog @boggiesho @earth-to-lottie @e1fade @instantplaiddream @mentallyillartist @stillinracooncity @missborntodiex @rhyanna6012 @hao-ming-8 @starrrchiato @goth-boi-atlas @keiva1000 @pampeop @sleepy-time-dreamy @laurenbenoit70 @tojis-big-daddy-milkers @jstarrs23423 @madameducyberversailles @eri-channnnnnn @schmelscorner @commandertorinshepard @lua83727 @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @nyannyanmochi020 @p1nkliquor
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yeollie-plz · 5 months
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Miguel O’Hara x F! Reader
Synopsis: You babysit Mayday, it puts thoughts into Miguel’s head.
Genre: smut!
Warnings: smut, 18+, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, p in v sex, kissing, biting, fingering, choking, spanking, daddy kink slipped in there at the end
Gif credits to owners!
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Miguel was expecting to come home to his beautiful wife, eat some food, maybe make love to her, and bask in each other’s warmth until they fell asleep. What he sure didn’t expect was to come home to said wife babysitting Mayday for Peter. You might have forgotten to mention to Miguel that you were babysitting tonight.
Honestly, you didn’t mention it because you didn’t want him to say no and Peter and MJ really needed the night out. No baby. So now you and your husband were going to have a night in. With a baby.
To say Miguel wasn’t thrilled would be an understatement. He was borderline angry with you at the “slip” of your mind. It’s not like Miguel hated Mayday in any aspect but the thought of you holding a baby brought up strange feelings inside of him.
He had tried for the year that Mayday has been around to try and push those feelings down. But every time he saw you even glance at the baby had him all in a fit. Miguel didn’t think he’d ever be ready for a child again, but seeing you so motherly was changing his mind.
I mean, he didn’t think he’d ever want to get married again and there you were changing his plans.
You two have had the baby talk before, as well. You were always so understanding of his past and never pushed him too far. But he did notice the disappointment on your face when he had said he never wanted kids.
Never? Why had he said never? It was such a harsh conclusion and in recent months, it was one he was regretting making.
He could imagine you now, belly full of his seed, a prominent bump showing what the two of you had made.
Shit. He needed to get those images out of his or he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
Shaking his head Miguel retreated to the kitchen, leaving you to continue to play with the baby uninterrupted. Busying himself with looking through the cabinets, like he wanted to cook something.
“Miggy?” You questioned as you entered the kitchen, Mayday perched on your hip. He turned and took in the sight, imagining what a mini you would look like. He sighed.
“Did you want me to make you something to eat?” You were trying to read the look on his face.
“No.” He grumbled and pushed pass you and into the living room.
“Miguel, I know you’re mad that I didn’t tell you. But it was an honest mistake. Plus, you know I love Mayday and since we-“
“Don’t.” He cut you off. Your mouth snapped closed at what you were about to say. Before you could apologize Miguel made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him. You blinked in shock, you didn’t want to start a fight in front of poor little Mayday. This would have to be brought up later.
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It was nearing the time that Peter was supposed to arrive to pickup Mayday. You were a bit sad to say goodbye to her but you were also exhausted. Suddenly, you understood why Peter didn’t even change out of his pajamas most days. Especially with a spider baby!
She stuck to everything! And being someone without powers, your knowledge on the matter wasn’t very strong. Sure, you knew a lot about Miguel’s powers but he was what…Spider-Man number 30 out of 1 million? You wished you could ask Miguel for some help.
Eventually you figured out the best way to unstick Mayday was to distract her. Show her a toy, play peekaboo, maybe give her snack. Anything to keep her hands busy and off your ceiling. You hadn’t heard Miguel much through the night. You figured he had gone to sleep or was silently doing some work.
When you agreed to watch Mayday, you hoped the two of you would be able to do this as a team. But obviously, that thought was all wrong.
Peter came about 30 minutes later, knocking on your door. Miguel heard the door open, a few words being exchanged, and a rush of thank yous as the door shut once again. In a few quick steps you were moving across the house and throwing open the bedroom door. Miguel’s wife was not happy.
“Really Miggy? Slamming my doors now?” Usually the tone of her voice would make Miguel instantly apologize but he was too wound up to care.
“Yes I’m slamming our doors!” His voice was slightly raised as he gave a lackluster response, cringing at himself.
“All this and because I decided to help Peter out! You know they never get to go out. We are their friends Miguel, we should be helping them out!”
“I don’t mind helping out our friends, but this favor…I just.” He groans, running his face across his face and through his hair. His usually tight posture, slumping in exasperation.
“What Miggy? What is so aggravating about that little baby?” Your hands were on your hips, face turning red with your increasing anger. He was not going to get away with throwing this tantrum.
“It’s not the baby that is aggravating! It’s me seeing you with the baby!” His eyes soften as he admits the truth.
You were shocked, not understanding the meaning behind his words, “I’m the aggravating one?”
“No! Mi amor, it’s how I can’t get the thought of you round and pregnant out of my mind. The image of you running around chasing a child that we created. I thought after everything that I would never want that again but…”
It finally clicks, “You’re mad we don’t have a baby!”
“I’m mad I’m not inside you right now putting a baby in you” His eyes darken and rake across your form.
He crosses the room in three long strides, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling your body into his. His lips ghost along your neck, his hot breath creating goosebumps on your skin.
His mouth reaching your ear, whispering, “Do you want that? Want me to get you pregnant, baby?”
You can only whimper in response, which eggs Miguel on further, finally connecting his lips to yours. Desperation coats the kiss as he basically devours you.
He nips at your lower lip, pulling away. Looking down at you he takes a step back, your body reacts instinctively and tries to close the distance again. He stops you by cupping your clothed core. A strangled noise passes your lips as he uses his other hand to pull your dress over your head.
“Mmm, wore this like you knew I’d want easy access. Always so eager for this cock, hm?” His deep voice and words cause you to get even wetter.
The hand on your core moves a bit to tease you. He feels your wetness, moaning in satisfaction.
“I might not even need to prep you, baby. Wanna breed you like you weren’t meant to be bred.”
His hand grips your neck leading you towards the bed. The hand now makes it way behind your neck and brings your lips to his once again. The force causes you to moan.
“Why don’t you get on all fours for me?” He says it like a question, but you know it’s a command.
You do as you were told and get onto the bed on your hands and knees. You let your knees naturally rest a bit apart, knowing that he will just adjust you if he needs it. A hand runs down your spine, sending a shiver down with it. It reaches your ass and gives a squeeze before landing a firm smack there. Suddenly you hear a rip and feel your wet core exposed to the cool air. You glance down realizing that he had torn off your underwear.
You gasp, “Miggy!” Usually you would’ve found this extremely hot, if those weren’t your favorite panties!
“I’ll buy you new ones. Besides until you’re pregnant you’re not leaving this bed. You won’t be needing panties for a while.” Okay, now it’s hot again.
He doesn’t wait for you to respond and inserts a finger inside of you. He pumps the finger in and out quickly, testing how wet you are.
“Already all wet and ready for me. Just how I like you.”
Quickly, he pulls the finger out and before you can even protest at the loss he pushes his dick fully inside of you to the hilt. Another gasp passes your lips at the intrusion. He gives you no time to adjust before setting a pace, ravaging your body with his thick cock.
He continues his assault, pushing deep inside of you before pulling out almost completely and repeating the action. The force of his thrusts are making it hard for you to think, let alone hold yourself up. But when you start to fall to your elbows, his hand is quickly wrapped around your throat holding you up.
“Have you at the perfect angle, can feel all of you.” Is all he says as his fingers tighten on your throat. Your vision goes black from the intense pleasure.
He fucks into you harder as the pressure of his fingers releases slowly, letting some air back into your lungs. When you have enough air, you are moaning out as a particular thrust hits the perfect spot.
“Miggy please, need you to make me cum. Need your cum in me.”
His large body incapsulates yours at your confession. The hand that was on your throat makes it way down to your clit, rubbing circles into it. His teeth bite down into your shoulder, sending a shock of pleasure through you as you cum hard onto his cock.
The clenching of your orgasm causes him to groan and falter a bit, before he regains his head and pace.
“Mmm, gonna cum in you baby. Gonna make you a mommy.” He says as he shoots his seed into your awaiting womb. His orgasm seems longer and stronger than usual as he bites your shoulder once again.
After he recovers, he releases your throat, letting you fall into the plush sheets. Miguel slides out of you and pulls your body into his. He rubs your back in slow circles, calming you both down.
Eventually you speak up, “So what do you think? Think it worked, daddy?” Lust drips from your voice at the name.
“Fuck, maybe, and even if it didn’t I’m ready to go again. Just want you so full of my cum that you can feel it with every breath.”
And fill you he did.
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jellyfishrnice · 16 days
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Yandere! Rich suitor idea
Hear me out-
The rich suitor that your parents have in mind for you to marry once you turn 30, the guy who's parents your parents are best friends and how they've been imagining their offspring getting married for decades! And how you absolutely can't stand your unofficial fiance!
Of course, he couldn't stand you either. All your lives grown up together with both your parents insinuating that you two will carry on their names. Each year you two would be sent off to some exotic vacation (your parents loosely supervising) and each year you both failed to hold a conversation without fighting. The pressure was always too much for you, you hated the idea of being tied down to some guy only your parents liked. And no matter how beautiful the boy was, he simply wasn't your type. He was too pretty, too spoiled, too prissy with his blonde hair tied in a ponytail and his stupid eyebrow piercing that made no sense considering his personality.
The guy you were supposed to marry felt the same, he couldn't understand what his parents saw in you. You were too wild, he couldn't imagine trying to carry on a family with how you barely even wanted to do school work. He didn't even consider ugly just so... Weird! With your weird, odd sense of fashion and refusal to think about your future , you were definitely not his type. You two hated each other.
Until the summer you two turned 21. The yearly vacation y'all took started off like any other. With both you dreading the sight of each other. But that changed very quickly once he saw you. This was the first year you two were alone, and maybe it was the fresh alcohol in your systems or the soft lights in whatever high class restaurant you were in, something clicked in your suitor's brain.
Turns out a year (or a couple) can really change the way you see someone. Whether he knew or not he started to admire the way you refused to comply with the strict set of rules set by the high class society you two lived in, and how you didn't care what anyone else thought of your peculiar way of self expression. It was admirable he had to admit.
And the night you two shared an accidental drunken kiss, it made the hair on his arms stand up, it made his face flush red(which he blamed on the liquor), and it made his heart pound in a way he never thought possible.
Every bone chilling reaction was forced out of him and it made his skin light on fire. After that night, he only wanted more to come out of your relationship.
But, the attraction was simply one sided.
You still only saw the same prissy boy. He still refused to look at things from more than one perspective, he still poked fun at your style of clothes, he still refused to say thank you to whatever person who was serving him!
He was everything you hated all wrapped up in one ball of a man.
And when he dropped the idea of getting married the next morning while you were still recovering from your hangover, you almost vomited.
-
"Ew! What the fuck are you talking about?!" You yelled while almost dropping the mug you had in your hand. The guy was just insulting you yesterday like he always does and now he's talking about marriage?
"You act as though marrying me is the worst thing possible." Andrew sighed while sipping on a glass of orange juice. He looked out the nearby window onto the private beach of the resort while leaning on the nearby wall. It didn't show but your response clearly hurt him just a bit.
"'Cuz it is." You groaned in frustration while sitting down on the living room couch. The guy you hate proposing is definitely not helping with your pounding headache.
You took a sip out of the mug of coffee and tried to rub away the ache from your temples. Why now of all times to propose? You two had at least 5 more years of freedom before yours and his parents would put their foot down and set a date for you two to sign the wedding papers.
"I mean- why not now? Its be better sooner than later, it would be like ripping off a bandaid-"
"Hell no." You sighed and set down your mug on the coffee table next to you and dropped your head onto a pillow. How were you going to deal with this?
"Anyway," you paused trying to gather your words, "don't you hate me? Why would you want to tie the knot so soon? I mean, you're an attractive guy right? Why don't you try out other options before having to-"
"I don't want other options."
You lifted your head and stared at Andrew for a second. The pink dusting his fair cheeks and avoidance of eye contact was all you needed to know.
You looked away from his face and stared at the wall behind him. Your head hurts even more than when you had woken up.
"I'm leaving."
"What?"
"I said I'm leaving." You hauled yourself off the couch and into your room. You could hear Andrews faint footsteps and even more of his questions but ignored it. You packed your backpack, only the necessities and a small bag of seashells. You were getting on the next plane and heading back home. Or wherever you could land first.
You were not staying here. You refused to marry. Not yet at least.
But as you try and open the door to leave, a large hand slams it shut before you can completely open it.
"Andrew. What the hell are you doing."
"You are not leaving." Andrew says while placing his other hand against the door, caging you.
You never realized how muscular Andrew was before this moment.
"Yes, I am. Now let go of the door-"
"No." He says in a much firmer tone.
It dawns on you that you're on a private beach with no one to hear you yell for help. You see one of his hands leave the door and for a second you think he's come back to his senses and stopped whatever crazy shit he was thinking- but instead he snaked his hand around your waist and lays his forehead on your shoulder.
"You're not leaving."
-
HEHEHEHE JUST A THOUGHT THOOO
Not proof read forgive me 😔
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taylormarieee · 5 months
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Tie's and Trends Miguel O'Hara
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Summary: You saw a trend and wanted to try it on Miguel...
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
Word Count:
Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY, Smut, edging, porn with plot, PiV sex, Miguel begging, Switch reader, Switch Miguel, Cream-pie
A/N: This was kind of requested but heres the original post where it all started...
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"Miguel! Can I do this to you please!" You ask on your knees begging to do this TikTok trend with him.
He stares at your phone again and you can see the way his mind is racing. Moving like Clockwork.
"I don't know Bebita." He runs. his fingers through his hair. Little did he know you were making those cute puppy dog eyes you know he couldn't resist.
He finally looks down to you still on the floor and see's your face. He mentally curses himself and out loud.
"Mierda, You little-" Before he could finish his sentence your smiling, getting up and sprinting to go find a ribbon.
You. already knew what the answer was because of his reaction. When you finally come back with the ribbon he is staring at you with a look you've seen time and time again, but did you care? Nope!
"This is so stupid." He says as you tie the ribbon around his arms. His arms were a lot larger than others so you needed a slightly longer ribbon.
Once you finish tying it, you step back and observe your man. He looks so cute, yet extremely hot with those bulging veins in his arms.
You observe his hands and ten move down to the sweatpants he's wearing. He always wore sweatpants to tease you.
He knew you couldn't stop looking. Every 5 minutes you tried to at least get one glance of down there before he caught you.
But now? He was dead staring at you with his beautiful brown eyes. That red tint sparkling in the light.
"Miguel..." You whimper. It was supposed to come out nice and clear but more thoughts entered your head.
Miguel sits down and spreads his legs as if he alrfead knows what your about to ask.
"C'mere princess." He whispers motioning to his thigh. You walk over and sit on his thigh. He jolts his leg slightly to tease you.
"Miggy?" You whine out. He raises and eyebrow and smirks. "Yes mama?" He asks.
"Can ride you p-please." You squeak out. You fiddle with your fingers and look down trying to hide from his intense gaze.
"Go on baby..." He replies. When you look up at him a surge of confidence bolts down your spine and you feel the urge to become dominant.
"Your keeping the tie on. And No touching. I mean it." You sday pulling down your pants. He pulls his down halfway, without breaking the ribbon.
You pull them down to his ankles and remove his boxers. His semi-hard cock springs out and soon stiffens at the cool air.
You rub your hand up and down on his cock making precum leak out from the tip.
You quickly lined yourself up with his dick and slid down on him. You moaned out as you felt his huge cock stretch you out. He throws his head back in pleasure dying to touch you.
He knows he could break out of this ribbon but for you and your wishes, he has decided to keep it on until you say otherwise.
"Yea? You like that Miguel?" You ask as you roll your hips in that way that has Miguel cumming in seconds.
"y-yes, oh fuck... Meirda my love!" He says tightening his fists in the sheets.
"You gonna cum for me Miggy? Huh baby?" You taunt bouncing on his deliciously huge cock. You feel him all in your stomach.
You move your hand close to his throat as you roll your hips, lifting your hips and sinking slowly back down on him.
"Please mama, let m-me cum. Please? I-I've been good." Miguel whimpers out. His eyes wide and glossy.
You nod your head and he suddenly rips out of the ribbon dying to hold you while he shoots his delicious load inside you.
He flips you over a fucks into you to keep his load in. Something animalistic emerges from him as he roughly thrusts into you.
You cry out before you orgasm comes rushing through you. You scratch at Miguels back leaving red fresh marks.
"OH Fuck Miguel! Yes, give it to me please!" You cry out. He gives you what you want. He helps you ride out your high before pulling out.
He watches as his cum drips from your abused pussy and admires you in your fucked out state.
"I hated that." Miguel speaks out into the silence. You look up at him and prop yourself up on your elbows.
"Too bad, we're so doing that again." You say with a teasing smirk on your face.
He whines and whimpers at the fact that you want to do it again but you can see him trying so hard not to smile at the idea.
You loved your good little boy Miguel O'Hara...
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Strictly written for ( @luvrxbunny , @queerponcho and @sunve1ns)
Taglist: @obviouslynini @itzdarling @grixonsdoll @aerangi @
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rafeysdoll · 26 days
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Idk if you have seen that one text ss where the guy is like "take a nap" and then a few hours later he goes "I said a nap not a fucking coma" feel like that would be sooooo rafe x reader, like reader just falls asleep anywhere and everywhere and rafe is just like "girl.....😐"
thought of two instances of this! thank u for requesting, i hope u enjoy!
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“hey, hey,” rafe shakes your arm, sighing. “mm.. r-rafe?” you mumble, your vision a bit blurry as you wake up, yawning. “w-what you doing here?” you question in a little groggy voice, getting shy as you can see him a little clearer. he was just so handsome. “the fuck you mean? you didn’t answer my texts all fuckin’ day. got worried.” he confesses, his eyebrows scrunched together.
“oh.. yea,” you giggle softly. “was jus’ getting my beauty sleep, papi.”
“b-beauty sleep? you serious? it’s 1:30 in the afternoon.” he scolds in a condescending tone. “papiii,” you whine, hiding your face in your pillow. “you’re judging me. can feel it.”
you hear him sigh, rolling his eyes. “not judging, ma. jus’.. curious how someone can sleep that long.” “well.. it’s because it gets tiring being the worlds best girlfriend, lotta weight on my back,” you giggle at your own joke. “mm, yeah. give you that one.” he chuckles before kissing your forehead. “cmon, missed you. we’re going out, yea?”
୨୧ second instance
“hey, where your girl go man?” topper asked as rafe adjusted his hat backwards. he usually never let you out of eyesight. “uh, what?” he asks before looking around, seeing that you were no longer by the clothing rack that held a variety of cropped, revealing tops that quickly made rafe imagine having to tell you not to wear those when he wasn’t around when he first saw you snooping there. “the fuck?” he quietly whispers to himself, scanning the store.
after a few minutes of looking around and even calling your cellphone— he approached one of the workers, already working himself up. “hello, ma’am, uh.. wanted to ask if you’ve seen a girl wearing a pink dress? has little flowers on it? was wearing those uh tall sandals or whatever you call em,”
“oh, you mean platform sandals?” she giggles softly, “yea she asked me where the dressing room was and headed straight there.” she replies with a small smile. “ah, alright. thanks.”
when he arrives to the dressing room he goes to the one stall that’s closed, knocking before twisting the doorknob. “didn’t even lock the damn thing.” he grumbles to himself before stepping inside.
you sat on the dressing rooms chair with your head leaned back and eyes closed. “oh you’re kidding me.”
he lightly smacks your cheek to wake you up, a bit upset. “o-oh! hi papi,” you say meekly. “was tired of all that walking.. was only going to take a real small nap..” you confess, your cheeks a flushed pink.
“baby.. i.. what? cmon doll, you serious with me right now?” he questions, a disapproving expression on his face. “you’re the one that wanted to go to the mall, remember?” it was true, you wanted to get closer to topper and kelce— being rafe’s friends and all, so you invited them to go shopping with you. “i-i know papi, we just did so much walking ‘s all..” you whine, standing up as you hug rafe gently, sighing. “oh doll, cmon. let’s just go already.” he says lightly, dragging you back out and telling the boys it was time to go home for the day, them being secretly glad as they had literally no idea what to do in all the stores you had been visiting— let’s just say every since then, rafe refused to let go of your hand anytime you guys went out afterwards.
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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When Eddie comes out to him, Steve makes a big mistake. His first reaction was to thank him for trusting him, which is what Robin told him to do in this situation.
But his second reaction was to say “I also like guys.”
Eddie blinked at him, clearly confused and defensive, like maybe Steve was making fun or not taking him seriously.
“Uh. You do?”
“Yeah man! I mean, no one else knows, but yeah.”
Eddie smiled and thanked him for trusting him with it, said they should hang out more, and recommended a queer bar in Indy if he needed a safe place to explore.
And Steve smiled and nodded like he couldn’t agree more.
As soon as Eddie was gone, he rushed to the phone in his kitchen and called Robin.
She called him an idiot, a dingus, a bisexual disaster —whatever that was—, and told him he absolutely wasn’t allowed to go to a queer bar without her.
She did at least agree to keep up the lie until he could find a way out of it without Eddie thinking he lied to hurt him or something.
But he started hanging out a lot more with Eddie and finding that they had more in common than he originally thought.
Eddie took Robin and Steve to the queer club and Steve…felt at home, felt welcomed, felt like he belonged. Robin kept giving him these looks all night, and Eddie kept dragging him to meet people who he cared about, and one of the guys on the dance floor kept pulling him out there to dance with him.
He felt free and alive and-
Queer.
It hit him as the guy, Paul maybe, was pulling him closer by his waist as his hips rocked to the beat of a song he didn’t recognize but felt like something he wanted on a mixtape. It hit him that he liked this because he liked dancing with Paul like this. He liked this because he saw himself visiting more, even without Eddie and Robin. He liked this because he could picture making out with Eddie in the bathroom.
He froze.
“You okay, sweet thing?” Paul asked him.
“I think I’m in love with my friend.”
Paul’s eyes widened momentarily before patting Steve’s hip. “Is he gay, honey?”
“Huh?” Steve was already trying to find Eddie in the crowd. “Oh, yeah. He’s here tonight.”
“Shouldn’t you be dancin’ with him then?”
Steve finally looked back at Paul, who had his hands on his own hips now, teasing smile on his face.
“Yeah. I should,” Steve thanked him, apologized for any misleading, which was immediately brushed off. Paul was here to dance, he didn’t much care for who he was dancing with.
“Send that beauty over here. She looks like she needs some lessons,” Paul pointed to Robin, who was still looking a little nervous despite the friendly bartender handing her sodas every time he passed by her.
“She’s gay, man.”
“So am I! Doesn’t mean we can’t dance!”
Steve laughed. “You’re right.”
He walked over to Robin quickly, avoided getting pulled back into the crowd.
“I’m in love with Eddie.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “I know, dingus. You literally risked your entire reputation to come to a queer bar to try to impress him.”
Steve balked. “That’s not what this was!”
“Uh huh. Well he’s sulking in the bathroom if you wanna go tell him.”
“Sulking? Why?”
“He saw you dancing with that guy. Think he assumed you were interested in him.”
“Not a chance. I prefer long hair and ripped jeans,” Steve winked. He turned to walk towards the hall with the bathrooms when Robin stopped him.
“Don’t do this if you’re not 100% sure,” she said seriously. “Eddie really likes you and it would destroy him if you were lying to make him feel better.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve started, but stopped when Robin gave him a look.
“You’ve literally been pretending to be queer for the last two months because he came out to you and you accidentally came out to him. You’re lucky it wasn’t a complete lie.”
“Yeah but I wouldn’t fuck with his feelings like that.” Steve knew what it was like to be led on. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie. “I’ll be careful with him.”
“And be careful with you.”
He saluted her as he walked away.
When he found Eddie sitting on the counter at the sink in the bathroom, he was swinging his legs back and forth and humming something distinctly less pop than what was playing on the dance floor. No one else was in here, but that didn’t mean no one would walk in.
He walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his knee.
Eddie immediately stopped kicking his feet and looked up.
“What’s with the face?” Steve asked, reaching up to touch the line between his brows that always appeared when he was pouting.
Eddie shrugged. “Just not feeling it tonight I guess.”
“The music isn’t really your thing. Kinda surprised you like this place,” Steve said as his hand drifted down to his wrist. “Seems closer to a small club than a bar.”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
Eddie’s tone was sharp, laced with jealousy. Even if Steve hadn’t had his realization five minutes earlier, he would’ve seen what that was from a mile away.
“I was until I realized I’d rather be out there with you.”
Eddie snorted. “I don’t really dance.”
“But you’d dance with me if I asked, right?” Steve’s fingers circled his wrist and he tugged Eddie off the counter. “Even if I asked you to do it right here with no music?”
“Steve, what are you doing?”
“Dancing. Or trying to.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips and started swaying them in sync with his. “It is hard without music.”
“Why don’t you go back out there?” Eddie’s hands went around Steve’s neck.
“Because you’re not out there. I don’t wanna be where you aren’t.”
“Steve-“
“You know I didn’t actually know I liked guys until tonight?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, I really like this one guy. Not sure about others yet.”
Eddie was silent, but didn’t push Steve away.
“He was hiding in this bathroom though. I didn’t really think he’d join me out there, so I brought the dancing to him,” Steve winked.
“You like me? You? Like me?”
Steve nodded.
“And you just realized this?”
“Kinda.”
“In a queer bar?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s pretty gay, dude.”
Steve snorted and smacked Eddie’s chest. “That’s the point.”
Eddie moved in impossibly closer, no room for Jesus between their chests anymore. “So you lied when you came out to me?”
“I panicked! But it doesn’t actually count as a lie if I’ve seen the light.”
“Was it a rainbow light? Or the reflection of the disco ball in the glitter shorts Perry was wearing?” Eddie joked.
“Perry!” Steve smacked his own forehead. “He’s nice. Made me come tell you how I feel.”
“Oh. He did?” Eddie seemed shy for maybe the first time ever.
“Yeah. Said I should come dance with you if I’m in love with you.”
Steve hadn’t felt like this in a while, and hadn’t left his heart on his sleeve like this in even longer. As Eddie’s face went from shy to shocked to flustered, Steve thought about how long he’d been dancing around these feelings.
But no more dancing around them. Now it was time to dance with them.
“Can’t believe you just said you’re in love with me in the bathroom of a queer bar. Don’t even think they clean this place,” Eddie laughed, letting his forehead fall against Steve’s.
“I’ll tell you again outside.” Steve kissed his cheek. “And in the van.” His nose. “Your house, my house.” The corner of his mouth. “Everywhere.”
Eddie licked his lip, skipping over a soft kiss for a hungry one. It was hot, desperate, impatient. Everything Steve hadn’t known he needed.
Then again, he hadn’t even actually known he liked guys until tonight. Maybe he was just late to learn things about himself.
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snowsinterlude · 4 months
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melted snowflake.
(coriolanus x plinth!reader)
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summary: coriolanus never thought he would fall into his own trap. his plan wasn't falling for you. no, it was the contrary, he was supposed to use you. but god, you were so perfect for him.
based on this ask!
c.w: snow being a bit of a jerk, manipulation, jealousy, plinth reader x coriolanus snow, snow being head over heels with you, fluff (?)
you were a district girl, of course. your parents made sure to take that out of your head, but you couldn't simply forget about everything you lived in the districts. you were a child, but it didn't mean you were dumb or blind not to caught up on the things surrounding you.
the first time you saw snow was when your father met panem's president and left you to play on the kindergarden with your brother, sejanus. of course, it didn't go as planned when you were pushed away by a random kid and he protected you and your brother.
of course, after that, he never talked to you guys. a snow is not supposed to talk nor look at poverty with kindness. that's what his grandma'am taught him.
with this being explained, neither him nor his grandma'am expected your family to get richer than the snows, but after his father's death it was only natural they would be poor.
"y/n?" he approached you, now at the academy. he was a beautiful young man, often obtained your attention because of how much praise he recoeved from teachers and others. even though you were rich now, of course you wouldn't fit in as well as he did. not when you and your brother disagreed with everything the capitol kids stood for. "i'm sorry to interrupt you, but the teacher assigned us to do our assignment together." it was a lie. you could tell right away.
but why not see where he'll go with this?
well, that's what you decided to do. every lie he told you made you want to slap him from how dumb he seemed to think you were.
everyday you would caught him staring at you, at your eyes. stealing glances, stealing everything he could from you. hearing your voice was turning out to be the best moments of his days. but you knew deep in your heart that he was taking you for stupid. you were a girl, smaller than him, more soft looking than him, and he thought it was adorable.
but snow, being a snow, had something other than that silly feelings in his body. plans that didn't go as planned when you slapped his face hard, the red print kf your hand on his white skin being visible.
"hey! what are you-?" you interrupted him.
"look, i allowed you to go as far as lie to me about everything, even what others had to say to me. but i will not allow you to say anything about feelings, snow. this isn't funny. this is sick, and twisted. to think you want to have whatever i want so much that you would go as far as say you love me makes me sick." you said, and he blinked his eyes quickly, dumbly looking at you.
"ah, c'mon. don't look at me like that. you really thought i would believe you when you said clemencia hated me? man, she doesn't even know my name!" you kept going, and he gasped a feel times, his hand touching the place you slapped. "stop coming after me."
and you were gone, just like that. everything snow had planned for you both had gone down the drain while you walked away from him.
and after that, he tried to talk to you. he truly did. but you were always so far away from him, and when you caught a glimpse of him walking your way, you would always exit whatever place you were entering.
"man, what you did to the plinth girl? she's running from you like the devil runs from a cross." festus said, watching you exit the library the moment he stood up from the desk they were in.
"i don't know," he said, but he knew what he did to you. he knew he was wrong. and god, the ache he felt on his chest when he saw you laughing at a joke some body made to you was unberable.
that's when he noticed it. that's when he noticed he liked you, more than he planned to. you were supposed to be his accessory, his pretty ornament on the shelf, used when needed to. but now? ah, you had him at your bare feet and you didn't even knew, and if you did, you didn't care.
it was his fault, of course. he didn’t need to tell you that clemencia hated your guts, or that festus was betting that he could fuck you till the end of the year when you said he was pretty, or anything before and after that.
and thinking of that, he had a white bouquet of roses on his hand, provided by his grandma'am when he said he needed to apologize to the prettiest girl he had ever seen. mentally rehearsing his apology and what he would say, he didn’t even notice when he was already at your door, nervously knocking.
you were rich. why was it you the one who answered the door? god, if you were his wife in a near future, you wouldn't even need to move your hands to eat a grape and-
slam!
you closed the door right when you saw the white bouquet on his hand and the ashamed face he had on.
"y/n!" he called you, knocking on the door and pressing the bell of your house multiple times. it was so loud, so irritating, that you opened the door again.
"god, what the hell do you want?!" you asked, angrily frowning at him.
"you," he said. "please, i'm sorry. i-i didn't took you for stupid- you're actually the smartest girl i've seen in the academy, and the prettiest too, and i'm so sorry for being a douchebag to you but i wasn't planning on-" he stopped talking, gulping down.
"planning on what? being a jerk? a liar? a manipulator? a-"
"on falling in love." he said.
"there he goes again." you said, rolling your eyes.
"y/n, i'm serious!"
"prove me." you said, crossing your arms. and he fell on his knees at your feet, placing the roses delicately on your ground. "i'm sorry. i think love is a weakness, i am not used to feeling it- nor any kind of affection towards others but- i can't stand the sight of you, the thought of you being with anyone that isn't me, please-"
ah, how cute. anyone who saw coriolanus at your feet right now would be surprised, his grandma'am would go nuts, saying that snow's are supposed to be on top and not on the bottom of some district girl's feet. but he didn’t mind. he needed to do it. if being on his knees was the only way to get back at you, fuck it. he would be.
"get up." you said, looking away. he obeyed you promptly, eyes looking at you with hope. "that's your last chance, coriolanus." he nodded, almost falling on his knees to kiss your feet.
well, within the span time of seven months, you both were dating. but it didn't change much, coriolanus was always, and i mean always ready to get on his knees for you. he was a sucker for you, even if he was all high and mighty with others, with you, he was a melted snowflake. and he was fine with it.
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
Text
🎀💞
I just know that Simon Riley wants his face sat on🤭
nsfw below the cut 🪷 mdni
You'd always been a little shy when it came to sex, understandably so considering that your boyfriend was a real life Adonis, some kind of cruelly beautiful deity come to taunt you for your prudishness. Obviously, you and Simon had done it, you'd fucked countless times when he came back from deployments or frustrated from debriefings gone bad, but it was always, for lack of a better word, tame. You'd always assumed, given his past, that he wouldn't be down to have sex, period. The beginning of your relationship was a minefield of navigating boundaries and understanding the complexity of the beautiful man you got to share your bed with. What you foolishly failed to recognise, however, is that whist you subconsciously saw Simon as wounded, he saw your fragility as clear as day, like a ripple under the surface of clear water.
He'd aways been so impossibly gentle with you, even when you'd wanted things differently, too afraid to ask him and send Simon spiralling back into that dark place he'd only recently been pulled from.
"Want you to fuck my face." Simon's deadpan voice snaps you from your reverie, brings you back to where you lay sprawled and waiting in the centre of your shared bed.
"I'm sorry?" You barely manage to splutter, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at where he sits patiently between your knees, not even needing to look down to your panties to know that your cunt is already dripping.
"Fuck, love." The sound of his exasperated sigh makes you feel like you've done something wrong, but the almost pained crinkle of his eyes confuses you. "You need me to spell it out? I'd like you to sit on my face and let me eat you out." Simon's words make you choke, jaw hanging agape as you process the fact that not only is he willing to take such a step in your sexual relationship, but also that he's so seemingly comfortable with the idea of you essentially fucking his face. Sure, he's eaten you out before, but never in such a compromising way. "Are you -" A soft kiss being placed to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is enough to silence you as you look down at Simon practically grovelling between your legs.
"If you don't want to, you can say no, baby." "It's not that I don't want to. I just don't want to - fuck." You huff, slumping back against the mattress with a sigh as you struggle to find the words you need to express the way you feel. "You don't want to fuck?" He smirks wickedly at you, one hand still cradling your outer thigh as he presses his cheek to the warm skin, trying to lighten the mood. Ease you up a bit. "Simon." "Tell me what you're thinking. I'll make it make sense." God he's always so unbearably patient. It almost has you in tears.
"I just - I'm not so confident with stuff like that, you know? I mean it took us six months of having sex for me to even feel comfortable enough to ride you. Now you want me to sit on your face?"
Simon's eyes soften at your reasoning, and he practically drags himself up the bed until he's face to face with you, propping himself up on his elbows to stare down at your face, so beautifully flushed and bashful.
"If you don't want to do it, that's fine, but I need you to know, that I look at you and get hard okay? You're the most beautiful thing I've seen. Ever. If I died by being suffocated between your legs? Fuckin' kill me already, yeah?"
His words have you giggling softly as you play with his hair, distracting yourself from the burning arousal in the pit of your tummy.
"Okay." You nod, slowly, meeting his eye to make sure that he sees you're serious. "You don't have to say yes if you're not sure." "I'm sure, but can we go slow?" "Of course, baby. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with."
It doesn't take long for you to be sat nervously on Simon's hips, clothes piled on the floor, discarded in order for you to sit naked atop him, bottom lip pulled nervously between your teeth. "Do I just -" You point awkwardly between the general vicinity of your cunt to Simon's face, heart fluttering when you catch the way he gazes up at you like some sort of statue, some masterpiece. "Mhm." He nods slowly, pupils blown impossibly wide, the chocolate of his gaze turning almost entirely black. You feel his massive palms take your hips, guiding you up to your knees before settling your slick cunt just over his face.
"Sit." He grunts when he doesn't immediately feel the press of you against his mouth, his nose barely touching your puffy clit. "What if I hurt you?" "I'll let you know. Now, sit." Before you know it, his fingers are digging into your hips, leaving you gasping at the suddenly overwhelming sensation of his entire lower face stuffed against your pussy.
"Holy sh-" You whine, already beginning to roll your hips in search of stimulation, all whilst Simon gives a contented hum which rumbles through you and has you clenching around nothing. His hands guide your hips in their rhythm as his tongue licks a flat stripe between your wet folds, leaving you stuttering and your eyes rolling back, all whilst you grip onto his hair like of you let go he'll disappear entirely.
He sets a languorous pace with his tongue, eating at you like you're his final meal, hands digging firmly at the meat of your ass whilst he uses the slight bump at the bridge of his nose to press up against your clit, making you dizzy. Whilst he uses both hands to guide you, you use the hand not tangled into his hair to roll a hardened nipple between your thumb and forefinger, the sensation going straight to your pussy and making you gasp. Simon, perceptive as ever, notices your want and pushes his tongue inside you to push just that little bit further - and he can tell that you're close by the way your thighs clench around his ears and the fact that you're wonderfully more vocal than usual.
Similarly, sensing your oncoming orgasm, you desperately attempt to pull yourself off of him, all of a sudden shy about cumming on his face like you haven't done it countless times before. Your wriggling is met with a small slap to your ass which has you seeing stars as the small sting snaps the elastic band stretching taut in your lower belly, and Simon laps up every bit that you'll give him.
"Didn't think that men like me got to go to heaven." Simon sighs when you both lay sprawled and happy in bed together.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
I did not intend to write 1.1k of smut when I opened my laptop this evening but boundaries and communication are just so !! sexy !!
N e ways I'll just leave this here for y'all💕
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