#i think he thought that if he did break up with her she wouldn't need him at all anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chirpsythismorning · 3 months

Text

Can we talk about how Jonathan might've been able to clock Mike simply because of what happened with him and Nancy in season two?

This will be a long post, so you might want to strap in or save it for later.

In Will and Mike's case, it would obviously be much different from Jonathan and Nancy's situation, given that you know, they're gay. But we still have Jonathan arguably going through a similar experience as Will, while Mike is going through a similar experience as Nancy.

In s2, we see Nancy confront Jonathan about how she waited for him before getting back with Steve, which is a revelation to him. Then they're at Murray's and she's struggling to say she loves Steve, after a handful of moments between them that felt like she might return Jonathan’s feelings. And you can clearly see it in his eyes, listening to Murray imply that they have feelings for each other, with him looking back and forth sort of in awe of what's happening, like he's starting to question if she might actually like him back.

Will doesn't have that same affordance as Jonathan to really hope, at least not anymore. Which is why these relationships in s2 and s4 end differently for these two brothers.

Based on all the signs he was seeing that Nancy felt the same, Jonathan decided to take the plunge to admit to Nancy how he felt, and at that same moment Nancy had the courage to show how she felt. In Will and Mike's case, Will wasn't ready to take the plunge to admit to Mike how he felt, at the same moment Mike didn't have the courage to show how he felt.

What's so painfully hilarious to me about all of this though, is that Jonathan arguably starts the season in the same shoes as most of the audience, where from his perspective, it's becoming obvious to him now that Will like's Mike, but that Mike does not feel the same way.

First at Rink-O-Mania, Mike appears a little uncomfortable upon hugging Will. Then as the happy couple continues on their adventure into Rink-O-Mania, he watches Will lagging behind moping. And then unfortunately he's out of commission for the rest of the evening...

But once he's sober and back to being an attentive brother the following morning, we see him watching them at breakfast, with Mike barely sparing Will a glance, all while Will is blatantly staring, almost like he's waiting for Mike to look back, only for Mike to get up and walk away.

All of these instances gotta be SCREAMING unrequited gay love to Jonathan. He's already gotten signs for years that Will is gay, these are now just the signs that are instilling his suspicions that Will has feelings for Mike. He could have easily interpreted their relationship in the early seasons as young best friends, with Will seeming to have a crush on Mike, and with them growing up and that potentially including Will's straight friend distancing himself from him because he doesn't feel the same. It's not the most unexpected thing in the world considering.

But then there's a shift.

Suddenly he's creeping up on them talking in his room. And we know he was listening in on the conversation because he brings up Owens when he sits down. As he's eavesdropping, he's probably thinking something innocent like Aww they're making up! And like, hey! Even if Mike doesn't feel the same, which is okay and entirely expected honestly, at least he still cares about Will enough to make things right after acting so out of character. Still, I'm not gonna lie, that sounded a lot like flirting to me--

Then he's knocking on Will's door like 30 minutes or less later only to find Mike and Will back on their bullshit. Mike suddenly isn't going out of his way to ignore or put Will on the back burner. In fact, he's on his bed and they're talking, again! The door is even closed this time, which is interesting. This has gotta be a good sign in Jon's eyes. Nothing to worry about! Right? Right...?

But then suddenly this shift continues, going in a direction he probably didn't expect.

I mean, this is literally an identical jancy parallel we have here with byler on the hood of the car, with Jonathan right there to witness it. Despite him maybe only now subconsciously picking up on the similarities between Will and Mike to him and Nancy here, he's at least taking note (I mean he's even got his gay map out and everything).

It isn't until the van scene happens, that I think Jonathan starts to genuinely consider his suspicions, which is that Mike might actually like Will back.

EVERY time we get a shot of Jonathan looking back at Will and Mike in the van, followed by a shot of his POV from the rearview mirror, we're faced with Mike looking at Will while Will is looking away.

As Jonathan is hearing Will confirm his suspicions about his feelings for Mike, he's simultaneously witnessing Mike not looking at Will with disgust, but something more akin to reverence. All of those moments in the van that we witnessed, including all the ways Mike looked at Will and everything that was said, Jonathan was right there.

And what's even more insane about this scene, is that it circles back to Jonathan as a character himself.

I remember when people were talking about how odd it was that we never saw Jonathan with a camera in s4. After 3 seasons in a row of making his passion for photography a big part of his identity, that part of him was apparently absent entirely this time around... But was it really?

This is the same guy that said, "Sometimes, people don't really say what they're really thinking. But you capture the right moment, it says more."

Jonathan might not have had his camera in s4, but this was without a doubt one of those moments where he captured something more.

Something that I also think get's highly overlooked about this scene, especially when it comes to Jonathan looking back at them, being followed by a shot of Mike staring at Will, is that he could see both of their reactions the whole time, from beginning to end. Will nor the audience had the affordance of knowing because Will was facing the other way at the end, while we on the other-hand were blurred from even having the chance, despite Mike literally being in the frame. But not Jonathan. He even lets us see what he sees, a few times, but not at the very end, which would have been nice after they didn't let us see Mike's reaction seconds before this.

Let's just stop right there for a second though and circle back to what I consider to be the first time Jonathan really picked up on Will's feelings for Mike, which was at the end of s3, in a sequence that is a little too relevant to the van scene if you ask me, given that they are almost direct parallels.

While these parallels are pretty spot on visually, they are also near spot on narratively when it comes to the evolution each of these characters are experiencing.

For Will in the first scene, it's sadness that he's moving away from his friends in Hawkins and also feeling like he's losing Mike, after what looks like him and El making up, which makes him scared he'll distance himself again. For Jonathan, it's sympathy for his brother who appears to have some very deep feelings for his friend, feelings he can't quite grasp yet but soon enough will.

For Will in the second scene, it's heartbreak that he has to accept that Mike will never feel the same, knowing that supporting his relationship with El (encouraging it honestly) will likely turn out just as it did last time, with him losing Mike all over again, for the last time. For Jonathan it's sympathy for his brother who has now confirmed his suspicions that the feelings he has for Mike are more than just that of a friend.

Given that this parallel reinforces the same feelings Will and Jonathan had in s3 to now, why would this not also reinforce those same feelings that Mike had in s3 to now?

In the first scene, Mike was visibly distraught, with dialogue from Hopper in the background applying a little too perfectly with what he was feeling in that moment, which was scared. He’s apparently back together with El now, despite them doing just fine as friends for the last 3 months, as well as him and Will just having finally gone back to them being on good terms again. But now, it’s like he’s right back where he started at the beginning of s3, feeling obligated to be the perfect boyfriend to El, and as a result, having no choice in his eyes but to distance himself from Will. Mike then walks into his house looking like a zombie, almost emotionless stepping into his mother's embrace.

Now, I say almost emotionless because it looks like Mike was trying to hold back showing how he truly felt in this moment. He's not crying like he did in s1 when he lost Will that first time. Time has passed and things have changed (he doesn't want things to change). And he's trying his best to keep it together. But the in-focus close-ups make it clear that he is definitely not okay.

What's so impactful about these parallels is that it presents the inner struggle both of these characters are having, both queer and experiencing doubts, but in different ways and for different reasons.

Will is the one who covers it all up with lies, hiding the tears in his eyes, because boys don't cry.

Mike is the one who has never cried to them, just to his soul (RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY! TURN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!).

If you actually try to get a gage on Mike's in-focus emotions in that first scene vs. his out-of-focus emotions in that second scene, well they're not that far off from each other.

We go from Mike smiling vibrantly at Will, to him now slowly turning away to look back down at the painting, with whatever the hell emotion this is...

It's near impossible to catch because of how out-of-focus it is, but looking a lot closer, it honestly appears like Mike is feeling something akin to sadness that he's trying to mask. For a moment it even looks like he turns his head to wince emotionally, only to correct himself.

And call me crazy, but these shots also low-key parallel each other. Mike looking down trying to keep his emotions in check and failing miserably, only to look up and meet eyes with someone whose witnessing it.

With each shot before this of Jonathan observing Mike looking at Will, with him showing all the emotions Will never got to see and everything else in between, I wonder what Jon saw this time? Probably another thing he didn't expect.

Can you just try to imagine the silence in this van, accompanied by Will's muffled sobs, and then try to imagine Mike turning to look down at the painting, only to sneak a glance, and then go right back to looking at the painting, IN SILENCE, and then try to tell me how the assumption that Mike didn’t notice Will crying makes any sense, like realistically?

Yeah me and Jonathan are confused too.

Right now, Jonathan's probably wondering why Mike was acting a little fruity and repressed during the painting reveal. And that although he may have a penchant for being able to 'capture the right moment', Mike is sticking with his story (despite all the stalling and doubt). He is 100% straight!

And so maybe this is where Jonathan tries to accept what is being presented to him as the truth, despite the contradictions in front of him. It's likely that despite the way Mike looks at Will and acts around him, in ways he would have assumed coming from Nancy in s2 would've been evidence that she felt the same, it probably doesn't apply to Mike.

Maybe Jonathan's ready to accept that it's a lot more likely Will is experiencing unrequited love as a gay kid growing up in a small town, the most predictable experience a gay kid could go through, and in contrast Mike just feels too bad to let Will down easy.

Or who knows, maybe Mike could still be a little bit gay too...

But it doesn't matter anyways. Mike seems to be adamant about this and so there's really nothing else Jonathan can he do besides tell his brother he'll be there for him no matter what. And so he does just that.

But then Mike just has to surprise him one last time.

For those that don't know, the line Mike gives here in his monologue was in part pulled from Will's monologue in the van. Most don't know this because this line didn't make the final cut for the van scene, but in the official script the writers posted, what we find is an almost a direct parallel.

Which makes the reaction shots of Will and Jonathan directly after Mike says this all the more epic.

From Will's end he was probably hearing Mike say this and just thinking 'Damn. Well, that's what you get for using your feelings to inspire Mike to profess his love to El.'

But from Jonathan's end, I don't think his outside POV of these events overlapping was nearly as naive as his brothers understanding of the events. Because why the fuck would Mike need to use Will's feelings to inspire him to profess his love to El in the first place? Is this what Mike has been struggling with? Really? Why before every moment Mike takes action in this scene, is Will's hand literally pushing him into it? Why is Mike being so dramatic about saying I love you, stuttering and rambling about her being a superhero, not saying nearly as meaningful of things as what Will said in the van?

And then it hits him.

Mike is reminding him a little too much of another Wheeler right now...

Nancy Wheeler, who was afraid of what would happen if she accepted herself for who she really was, leading her to retreat back to the safety of Steve. Because Nancy liked Steve, but she didn't love Steve.

And now here is Mike Wheeler, who has went from being incredibly distant with Will after reuniting with El, something that is very unlike the Mike he knew in previous seasons, to something more himself again after they make up, with him looking at Will with adoration after hearing his words in the van, only to turn away and look heartbroken. Mike who is now struggling to simply tell El he loves her with Will right behind him literally yelling at him to do it.

And now it's like all those little moments are starting to add up to Jonathan.

Suddenly all those signs he picked up on from Will when he was younger are now blending in with moments Will shared with Mike. It was Mike who jumped in after him and his mom's speech to Will in the shed in s2, with tears in his eyes recalling the day that they met (without being asked, let alone pushed to). And it's Mike who is now looking like he's at war with himself as he attempts to give encouragement to El, just like he did with Will in s2, but this time he needs someone to push him to do it, and that person just so happens to be Will. After just finding out about Will's feelings and also while assuming El wants him to love her that way still, Mike is stuck.

I don't think it's takes a genius to consider Jonathan is capable of realizing how fucked they all are in this situation.

As much as Mike isn't ready for a sleuth of reasons, Will isn't ready either.

This provides a huge contrast between the bylers ², because while Jonathan and Nancy went through a similar experience to Will and Mike, them being ready to accept it and act on it didn't involve nearly as many factors and risks. Will and Mike also have the added barrier that is homophobia.

Will's internalized homophobia lies in part with assuming Mike could never feel the same based on some of the words he said in their last two fights, with parts being painfully reminiscent of the things his dad and bullies used to say about him. These are also words that contradict Mike's own words and actions from the previous seasons, things that did once give Will hope. The shame and guilt that comes with falling for your best friend, who you now know will never feel the same after being foolish enough to believe it not too long ago, and who might not even want to be your friend anymore upon finding out the truth, is understandable. He can't have hope like Jonathan can. It's just not the same.

Mike's internalized homophobia lies with assuming El wants him to love her, along with their relationship being expected and socially acceptable from everyone around him. Though unfortunately for her he feels abundantly more in love in the moments he shares with Will. Despite trying to make it work with El as hard as he could, because she's amazing and all any guy could hope for in a girlfriend, he can't ignore the fact that the feelings he has for these two people are different. The shame and guilt that comes with you, a boy, falling for your best friend, who is also a boy, and who is starting to show that he feels the same, all while you can't muster up the courage to break up with your girlfriend, nor can you muster up the courage to tell her that you love her, not when she's begging you, dying or even just simply at the end of a letter, is pretty understandable too. He can't have hope like Nancy can. It's just not the same.

Spoiler: They were not ready.

PS: I'm still not over the fact that they low-key confirmed these events elsewhere in the story...

#byler #st analysis #pocketgate #lettergate #i'm aware this is a hot (big brain) take #but i'm like 76% sure mike understood will in the van scene #also why mike is gonna finally be dealing with some personal business in s5...#just want to add that this makes the scene at Nina hit harder #also #mike trying and failing to tell el he loves her or break up with her at surfer boy and stalling because he just can't fucking do either?#mike's face when will pushes him to profess his love to el right in front of him???#honestly i dont think mike would've gone through with his monologue if he didn't think this is what el wanted in large part #i think he thought that if he did break up with her she wouldn't need him at all anymore #or more specifically if told her the truth she might hate him for it and just not want to be in his life in the aftermath of that #this is why he struggled so much with being honest #it was either lie and suffer but get to keep her in his life most likely or tell her the truth and potentially lose her and still suffer #it's just that now he has literally no choice but to conform and be with her all while knowing it's not what his heart truly wants #the heart not being true to himself jumpstarted the apocalypse #everyone act surprised #byler getting jonathan’d in s5 can be something so personal #no but imagine jon getting even more signals mike feels the same 😭#and he tries to talk to will about it but will just gets upset like pls stop why are you saying this?#or imagine him talking about it subtly with Nancy and her being like no way #only to see it for herself #maybe then Nancy would try to talk to Mike about how he’s feeling #idk I could genuinely see byler just getting byler’d individually #but it’s clear at this point Jonathan is extremely suspicious #honestly all I think it would take is him having intel about their previous fights #if he found out mike defended his behavior by insisting that they’re friends…#jonathan would just be like… oh shit.. the first lie…

166 notes · View notes

iloveyouitisruiningmylife · 7 months

Text

bestie is coming home on 1st im having thoughts

#obviously i missed her and would love to see her but seeing her brings so many complicated feelings and i hate it #i realised somewhere in the middle of a metro surrounded by a crowd that my bestfriend loves her boyfriend more than she loves me #i saw them flirt and hug and ive known her since we were 11 okay i had never seen her be so happy and calm and peaceful and CONTENT #and it made me feel yuck disgusting gross that i could never give her anything like this in years of our friendship so ofc she loves him #more than me #i used to be annoyed at her telling me about him what he did down to evey detail but there's one i can remember really well #how she was upset with him and he got angry too very angry so she thought he was breaking up with her and she started sobbing so #uncontrollably on the phone itself because she couldn't lose him and so he at like 11 pm?? he left his pg and showed up at her house told #her to come down just to give her a hug and then they went to have ice cream to make her feel better #and i just.#obviously she loves him more ivy you don't even talk to her unless she talks to you you talk once in like 2 months #she has made me realise so many things about love 😭#i think i get it love means showing up being there when the person you love needs you no matter what #like i get it's not always possible real life problems but #like he did have real life problems going out so late getting an auto not even being sure if she would come down cause she has very strict #parents #he was willing to put in all that effort just cause she was sad and that's why she loves him more than me it makes sense #but this is why i feel so scared im not even 2% of the person he is i always feel she is going to realise im an asshole and leave me #but we talk so less it wouldn't even affect me realistically #but then i would have lost all my childhood friends everyone who knew me when i was happy better than present atleast #i would have lost all friends period since i don't have any irl friends 😭#this is why i feel conflicted 😭😭😭

4 notes · View notes

lecsainz · 3 months

Note

hii can u do percy jackson x aphrodite reader?? ty🙏🏼

ISN’T IT OBVIOUS

parings: percy jackson x aphrodite!reader

an: I'm not ready for the last episode 😭

summary: the one where you're a daughter of aphrodite and end up with the son of poseidon.

( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

You and Percy crossed paths during the trio's mission. You happened to be in the same diner as Ares, embarking on your own quest. Grover sensed your presence, and before you knew it, you became an unexpected addition to the group. Fortunately, Ares treated the group better upon learning that you were a daughter of Aphrodite, as he couldn't mistreat a child of his beloved goddess.

Percy was utterly captivated when he first laid eyes on you. "Who's she?" he asked Grover, his attention completely absorbed by your presence. Grover chuckled at Percy's obliviousness to everything else but you.

Impressing the trio as you slay a monster, you confidently remark, "What? Just because I've just painted my nails doesn't mean I can't defeat this ugly thing."

After you confidently slay the monster, Percy looks at you and exclaims, "I'm gonna marry that girl!" Annabeth rolls her eyes, saying, "Oh boy," while Grover bursts into laughter, leaving you blushing

He'd ALWAYS look at you with a little smirk.

It took Percy a while to muster the courage to ask you out, and when he finally did, he stumbled over his words in a nervous attempt.

"Uh, hey, Y/N," Percy started, scratching the back of his head. "I was thinking, you know, maybe we could, um, grab some... uh, food? Yeah, like a, um, dinner thing?" His cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink as he anxiously awaited your response. You couldn't help but smile at Percy's adorable nervousness. With a teasing glint in your eye, you replied, "Dinner sounds great, Percy. I mean, if you're not too scared to share a meal with me."

You wouldn't even need to use charm on him because, well, he's head over heels for you and would do anything without you even asking.

Percy would be the type to love listening to you talk for hours just to admire you.

On a quiet night, Percy appeared at your cabin door with a small box. He rubbed the back of his neck, a bit awkward, and said, "Hey, brought this for you." Opening the box, you found a delicate necklace with a seashell-shaped pendant, reminiscent of the sea. Percy nervously smiled, "I saw this and thought of you, I don't know... thought you might like it." Your heart melted with his sincerity, and you said softly, "Percy, it's perfect. Thank you so much." He scratched his head, a blush rising on his cheeks. "It was nothing, really." Before you knew it, you hugged him and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. Your siblings from the Aphrodite cabin, who were not exactly discreetly observing, let out a chorus of "awww" and enchanted smiles.

Deep down, Percy hopes you won't break his heart just for the sake of the Aphrodite kids' ritual.

During a casual conversation with your sisters, you found yourself talking about Percy. The way he smiled, the warmth in his eyes – everything seemed to stand out more vividly. Your sisters, with their knowing smiles, teased you playfully. "Y/N, you're glowing whenever you talk about him!" Blushing, you tried to play it off. "Oh, come on, it's nothing. We're just friends." One of your sisters winked. "Friends or not, there's something in the air when you're around him. Admit it, you like him."

He'd want to protect you from everything, and if you got hurt, Percy would blame himself for days until you assured him it wasn't his fault.

As you and Percy strolled through the camp, a boy from the Ares cabin approached you, nervously asking if you'd like to go out sometime. You exchanged a polite smile, ready to turn him down gently, but Percy surprised you. "Sorry, she's taken," he said, intertwining his fingers with yours. You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The Ares boy seemed taken aback, and you couldn't help but chuckle. "Taken? Percy, are we...?" Percy grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Yep, we are. Officially. If you're okay with that, of course." Your heart warmed at his words, and with a playful grin, you replied, "Absolutely, seaweed brain."

Percy LOVES hugging you, so there would be lots and lots of hugs.

You two would be the clingy type, doing everything together.

He'd get suspicious every time a guy approached because, well, you're irresistible, and he definitely wouldn't trust the Hermes boys.

You'd suggest spa nights in Percy's cabin, and he'd gladly agree. Many times, he'd ask you to sleep in the cabin with him.

Movie nights that would end with you falling asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn't know how to handle it at first, but he'd get used to it, feeling like the luckiest demigod in camp.

Percy trying to make cheesy pick-up lines for you in public and leaving you redder than a tomato.

Let's face it; you'd be THE it couple at the camp.

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson x oc #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson fic #percy jackson #pjo x you #pjo x reader #luke castellan pjo #pjo fanfic #pjo tv show #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan headcanons #aphrodite!reader

2K notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

Padawan Learner

Mrs Vettel, ex Williams driver, current McLaren driver, can't drive while pregnant. Although she's contracted until 2026, she can't drive while she's with child. But she can't stay away from racing, and can't help but take the Williams rookie under her wing.

Sebastian Vettel x Reader, (Platonic) Logan Sargeant x Reader

Warnings: Brief description of smut

She wasn't supposed to retire at the same time as her husband. He felt as if he was at the end of his career and there was nothing more he could offer to the sport, so he retired. He'd had his glory years in Red Bull, moved to Ferrari, every racers dream, and ended things in Aston Martin, alongside his wife's old teammate.

She still had more race left in her. She'd been with Williams for years, racing alongside Valteri Bottas, Lance Stroll, George Russell, and, later, Alex Albon. But then she moved to McLaren, a team she felt would help her fight for wins.

Her husband very thoroughly celebrated the beginning of his retirement. She found herself stuffed full of cum almost every day of winter break.

It shouldn't have been a surprise when they got pregnant. But she wanted to murder Sebastian. For all of five seconds she wanted to drown him in their pool. But, after that five seconds passed, she was overjoyed, wrapping her arms around Sebastians neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

She told McLaren and they pulled Oscar Piastri in for the year. That was how he got his first drive in F1. All because Sebastian Vettel was incredibly horny, but he didn't need to know this.

She might not have been able to drive, but she still wanted to be trackside whenever she could. Her old team gave her this opportunity. She didn't hang around the McLaren garage, as she had half expected.

No, it was Williams and the new team Principle, James Vowles, who gave her somewhere to be during the season. Even in preseason testing, she was there, watching the Williams.

It was great to be in the garage with Lily again. She'd always liked Lily, thought she was great for Alex when they first met. After her move to McLaren she rarely got to see Lily, and as much as she hated sitting in the garage, it was nice to be sat in the garage with her.

Alex was a great driver. Any advice a veteran like her could have offered him, he already knew.

But then there was his teammate.

She watched Logan from his very first race weekend. She had known about the rookie for a couple of years now and had watched him succeed in Formula Two.

But now, in the Williams tractor, he was struggling. Week after week after week he was finishing outside of the points, or he wasn't finishing at all. She really felt for him.

"Hey," she said after the Hungarian Grand Prix.

Logan hadn't spoken to anybody since he got out of the car and did all that he needed to do. Clearly he was struggling. He didn't say anything, just looked up.

She stood beside him. At her stage of pregnancy she could have gotten down to the floor to sit with him, but she wouldn't have been able to get up without help. Her hand rested on her bump as she looked down at him.

"I still remember my first season in Formula One," she said as she looked at the retired car. "It was 2013 and Seb was set to win the championship. I was in my first year in Williams and I think I only finished maybe ten races," she said with a laugh.

"Wait, seriously?" Asked Logan as he looked up.

She nodded her head. "I crashed out of most, or the car fell apart on me. Most people wondered why I had a seat for the next year, but Williams saw potential in me. I know they see it in you, too."

Every time Logan didn't finish a race, every time he came dead last, she was there. Nobody could comfort her like she did. Sometimes Seb joked that they might as well adopt him, and Logan agreed. Most up and down paddock called Logan her padawan learner, which was very fitting.

Logan began being the person she spent the most time with when Sebastian wasn't there. He'd looked up to her for many years and having her support meant the world to him. He was there for her too, making sure she had somewhere to sit and something to drink whenever she needed it.

In September, a month before her due date, Sebastian begged her to stop travelling. Just in case he wanted her home with him, where he could take care of her. They still watched every race together and she made sure to send Logan a good luck text before every practice session, qualifying, and race.

When Logan got his first points, nobody celebrated more than Sebastian Vettels wife. She was so proud of him, even if those points were because of two disqualifications. She posted a picture of him and her from a previous race on Instagram like a proud mum. Funnily enough, Logan comments 'thanks mom' on the post.

Just two weeks after this, her water broke. Sebastian got her to the hospital. He stayed by her side, holding her hand through the hours of excruciating labour.

Leon Vettel didn't cry when he was born. He was so quiet, that it actually scared his mother. But the doctors and nurses assured the new parents that he was perfectly healthy.

He was their perfect little man.

She insisted on asking Logan to be Leons godfather. They had grown so close over the last few months that it seemed fitting.

Logan accepted. As soon as the Vettels could, they were taking Leon to races. Or, Sebastian took Leon to races, to watch his mother race. Of course he was wearing a Williams hat and McLaren shirt.

"Papa," Leon said at four years old after watching the Australian Grand Prix qualifying session.

"What is it, my little man?" Asked Sebastian as he sat Leon on his lap.

"I wanna be like mama and Uncle Logan," he said, and Sebastian couldn't stop himself from grinning.

1K notes · View notes

plutoswritingplanet · 2 months

Text

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough.

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her.

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love.

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill.

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them.

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end.

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son.

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die.

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed.

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers.

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded.

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow.

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour.

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to.

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice.

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him.

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament.

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods.

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room.

- Shall we, my Lady?

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat.

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features.

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade.

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed.

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it.

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug.

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade.

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses.

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you.

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking.

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies.

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man.

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike.

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way.

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps.

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting.

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls.

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head.

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo.

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts.

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me.

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him.

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle.

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art.

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards.

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh.

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #they try to silence me again on tumblr dot com but i won't let them

1K notes · View notes

txmptatixn · 9 months

Text

𝚋𝚒𝚐₊˚⊹♡

miguel o'hara x fem!reader: cw; size difference, corruption kink, praise kink, pussy slapping

author's note: a little test for miguel so i can learn how i wanna write him so i hope you enjoy

you were playing with miguel's hand, sitting next to him on the couch. "miguel," you sighed, voice gaining his attention. "yes, mi tesoro," he mumbled from his relaxed state on the couch, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

"why are you so big?"

the question was innocent, miguel could tell, especially with the delicate way you were holding his hand. but something about it made his brow twitch. yeah, he knew he was bigger than you, it plagued him every fucking day when he'd have to look down at you to see that pretty face looking at him like he was everything to you. but hearing you point it out...did something to him.

"look at how much bigger your fingers are than mine!"

at that comment, his eyes lazily opened and glazed to where you were holding your hand against his, showcasing how much longer and thicker his fingers were compared to hers.

"...yeah. you're tiny, aren't you, princesa," he teases, intertwining their fingers together as he pulled her closer so that she was into his lap. "c'mere, angel, let's compare, yeah? mm, veamos cuánto más grandes son, ¿sí?"

your legs were spread wide open over miguel's thick thighs.

"how's it feel," miguel whispered into your ear, humming as you moaned his name, trying to move the arm wrapped around your waist. he knew you were oversensitive, that it was too much, but good you too it so fucking well.

"mhm, my fingers are so much bigger than yours right? ohh, i know, i knowwww," he cooed at you, only two fingers deep inside you. the mess between your pretty thighs made him throb, his length pressing into your back as he held you tightly so you couldn't squirm away from it. no, he wanted you to feel the way his fingers stroked the inside of your tight pussy, focusing on that little spot that made you keen.

"m-miguel, i-i can't!"

you wouldn't cum, saying it was too much, his fingers were too big, and other excuses but no, miguel wasn't having it. if he wanted you to ever take his cock, he'd need you to at least take his fingers. and god, did you look so good like this.

"shhh, princesa, you can do it," he encouraged, hooking his head over your shoulder too look right between your legs. "you're so wet too. such a good girl, aren't you? mm, c'mon, give it to me, i want to feel this pretty pussy clench on my thick fingers," he moaned when he saw how his hand and your thighs were glistening from your wetness.

"you wanna be able to take me, right? if you can't take my fingers, how am i gonna get inside this tiny cunt," he asked right into your ear before removing his fingers, focusing on your swollen clit instead. "here, cariño, lets make you cum and then try it again, okay?"

his two wet fingers swiped at your sensitive bud, a smirk finding its way onto his face when your back arched from the feeling. it was overwhelming, it was unfair, why did his fingers feel so good? you didn't think you'd be able to take the third finger inside you, but he was so determined to get it in there.

making you cum would help you relax so he could ease that third inside you, and once he did he was going to make you cream all over his thick digits. just the thought made his hips roll against you.

"m-miguel, miggy, 'm gonna cum," you whimpered, trying to move your hips away from his quick fingers, the swirling on your cunt driving you made. "nononono, give it to me, let me make you cum, you're so close, just cum," miguel cooed into your ear. "cum like the little whore you are, angel. cum for me."

he gave one, quick swat to your cunt, and that's all it took to make you break. your entire body tensed up, crying out his name as ecstasy washes over you. as your orgasm overtook you, miguel groaned, his fingers still swirling around your clit to prolonge your orgasm as you writhed and struggled against the arm around your waist.

"ohh, babyyy, you're so pretty..."

miguel held onto you tightly, letting you ride out the waves of your climax, the intensity slowly subsiding. as your body finally went lax in his arms, his hand slows to a stop.

you were absolutely adorable, he thought with a little laugh, lowering his head to your ear. miguel wanted to break you, and if he had to destroy your pussy with his fingers first before he could bully his fat, cock into you, then he'd do it over and over again.

"oh, princesa, you did so good...i think i made you relaxed enough, though. let's try again, hermosa, yeah? let's break you and this gorgeous pussy in properly."

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara hcs #✮ ── temptworks.

6K notes · View notes

sugurizz · 10 months

Text

(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)

Nanami always keeps clear boundaries with his subordinates. He's a highly professional man who never crosses a line when it comes to mutual respect with everyone around him.

It's almost admirable in your eyes..How efficient he is, how perfectly he executes every task of his job. only does he seem different at times...

You're just so thoughtful it almost annoys him. You've already picked up on each and every one of his little habits; the way he likes his coffee, exactly when he takes his coffee breaks, where he usually hangs his freshly ironed jackets, where each piece of paperwork is kept in his office...

...Might be the old age but it makes him feel things when you knock on his door, when you greet him with the "Morning, Nanami-san, I sorted the documents from yesterday for you", or when you get his jacket for him without him even asking, with a sweet "Nanami-san, please don't forget your umbrella tomorrow, it's going to be rainy."

You're the only one who's allowed to adjust his tie when it's a bit loose, the only one allowed to lay your hands on his chest and fix his collar -breathing in the scent of his colone along the way-, the only one igniting his primal desire despite his exhausting life.

Might be the old age but he certainly wishes he could get this kind of treatment at home as well. He's rather lonely, overworked and tired whenever he gets back to his empty apartment..

Wouldn't it be better if you were the one to bake his fresh bread and prepare his delicious sandwiches for him? Give him a kiss before he heads to work and send him pictures of your legs spread with one of his designer ties barely covering your pussy?

Wouldn't it be so much better if he came back to strip you naked and take a steamy shower with you? push you on his king-sized bed to devour your sex, then have you all prepped and pretty to take his cock?

He'd be so happy with any of that, so happy he's now stroking himself and fondling his balls, trying his best to picture the way your tits pressed on his chest in the cramped elevator yesterday.

He knew your birthday was coming up but you never thought he'd even remember something so seemingly 'irrelevant' to him. So you didn't expect to find a luxurious box delievered to your doorstep, with a handwritten wishcard that had a familiar scent to it.

A note saying "wear them with your black heels, it'd look perfect" was inside the box, signed with a beautiful -Kento- on the corner...

---

"Nanami-san, your morning coffee." You greeted him with a smile the next day, leaning down as you gently posed the cup next to him.

"Nanami-san, I'm wearing your gift for my birthday. And the fabric feels so soft on me..."

a large hand pulled you back by the arm as you were about to walk off..

"Don't go there, sweet cheeks. you know I'll ruin you.."

"Then ruin me, Kento..."

I'll be at my desk if you ever need me."

You closed the door behind you, flashing him an innocent smile on the way...

---

Nanami san was missing at work that evening, secretary y/n was not there either. But thankfully your coworkers didn't know the reason behind your absence..

Nanami is busy training your throat in his spacious apartment. Your ass is on the cold floor tiles, body stripped to the lacy lingerie he bought you, caged between the wall and his lower half as he goes balls deep in your throat.

His tie is leashed around your neck with his leg pushing between your thighs, the tip of his expensive leather shoe bumping against your tiny clit.

"How much did this pussy think of me, hmm? does she like my shoe kissing her? playing with her?"

His leg presses harder, your eyes cross in pleasure as you suffocate on his veiny length..

"Look down princess, she's dirtying herself, drooling on my shoe.."

he frees himself from your mouth, leaving you with a drooly tongue and snotty nose as you shiver under him.

"Nanami..my pussy wants you, put it in her..please!"

"Nasty minx." He flicks his tongue with a grin, tears his shirt open to reveal his broad shoulders and toned chest, then tirelessly lifts you on his biceps.

"Aww...I want her too, princess.."

he kisses you senseless, giving himself a few pumps before he splits you open.

He's fevereshly rammimg inside you..golden strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, blushy cheeks blooming and hazel eyes almost teary as he finally feeds the hunger for you..

"Y/n...I need a wife! I want you-fuck-" you hug on him tighter, pussy clenching at the way he growls it against your lips... he paints your stomach white, his embrace deliciously crushing your body.

---

...A few days later the rumors started circulating among the coworkers; Both y/n and Nanami suddenly started wearing rings around the same time, and Nanami's office door started getting double locked, too often...

8K notes · View notes

hedgehog-moss · 3 months

Text

I received a BroomSlayer 3000 for Christmas!

Behind its jovial mien lies a cold-blooded killer. It's got merciless jaws to clamp onto the plant and a heavy pivoting handle to extract the roots.

I think Father Christmas saw the Christmas Broom held hostage in my living room, under which he was supposed to leave presents, and realised I had reached a breaking point. Last winter I removed all the invasive shrubs in the pasture. I cut everything! Down to the tiniest baby broomlets! And one year later the place looks like this

It's luxuriant. It's humiliating. It's a boundless undulating broom prairie. Clearly as far as they're concerned, I just gave them a nice trim which allowed them to grow back even healthier. So I needed to try something more violent. Get to the root of the problem. (Sorry.)

(I noticed that the spot of last year's broom bonfire is still completely broom-free, but I have not yet reached the point where I set fire to the entire pasture and hope for the best)

Now let me demonstr

—wait a minute.

Is Pampe eating broom??

Ah, no. She's eating pointless, flavourless, leafless brambles which she wouldn't look at twice if they weren't right next to the plants I'd like her to eat, thus emphasising how much she is not eating these.

For a second here I thought you were being helpful.

I saw Poldine eating brambles instead of broom as well. Bad Poldine!

Poldine recovered from this heartbreak after I let her sniff the snow boots I got for Christmas. Just like cats (her idols) she enjoys inspecting new things. (She also enjoys pulling on the laces delicately with her lips to untie them. This game never gets old, if you're a mischievous young llama.)

Anyway. The BroomSlayer 3000 works!! But it's hard work. I did not think it was going to be hard work, because the website made it look so easy.

I wanted to take a little video of me uprooting my enemies but then I thought an illustration would better convey my emotional state—there was a demo video on the gardening website which sells the BroomSlayer and it was the loveliest most bucolic scene, featuring a polite tree who basically picked up its skirts and scampered away with a contrite gasp the minute it realised its presence was unwanted. I really thought uprooting things was going to be a picnic, because I am not immune to propaganda.

To be fair to the gardening website, maybe it's just broom. With that said, it's incredibly satisfying to pull on the handle and hear the delightful sskkrrhh sound of roots being violently torn out of the ground. It's an exhausting whole-body workout but eventuaIly I will grow stronger than broom. I made a murderous Veni Vidi Vici playlist to put myself in the right mood and with this musical support and my new antibroom weapon I will prevail.

#crawling along

1K notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 2 months

Note

A little idea of a scene for hockeyxballerina: even before they start having a thing they end up in a heated kiss with him pressing her against a wall, car, bookshelf of whatever whi his hamd on her throat and her brain his so foggy she lets him spit on her mouth but the she comes to hers senses and runs away without a word, not even an insult because she is so shocked with what she did

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

word count: 1.6k

content warnings: smut (hehe finally!!!) (spitting, public play, dirty talk, degradation)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist

. . .

There must be something clinically wrong with Y/N tonight.

Well, maybe not just tonight. Maybe... maybe, that "something wrong" has been creeping up her body and spreading from her stomach out to her chest and center over the duration of a past few weeks. Maybe she expected it go away after a day or two, because why wouldn't it?

Harry Styles is his worst nightmare. Her moral enemy. Her fiercest competitor.

So why the fuck does she think he looks good enough to swallow whole tonight?

He walked in with a crowd of his hockey buddies an hour or so after Y/N, Lea, Rena, and Mai had arrived. Per the pre-game hosted at Mai and Rena's place, she was already feeling a little buzzed when she got here. She was planning on taking it easy tonight — she was still diligently practicing for the spring showcase every day — but the second her eyes flitted over to the stupid backwards hat he wore and the flex of his jaw from the gum he chewed, she knew she needed more to get through the night.

And she's pleasantly tipsy when she makes a move to head to the bathroom. She hears her friends scold her for "breaking the seal," but she rolls her eyes and playfully flips them off in response. Her sneakers stick to the vodka-coated floors of the college bar as she pushes her way through the crowd, trying to make her way to the ladies' room without any tequila spillage on her top.

Harry Styles is an idiot, she thinks to herself as she walks, There's no way I could have a crush on him. What, just because he drove me home a few times and helped me when I hurt my ankle? That's stupid, he's stupid, and—

"Hey, you."

Her eyes dart up at the familiar deep voice and she wishes the ground would open up and take her right then and there. Did she somehow conjure Harry up with her thoughts? She's a little drunk, but there's no way she's that powerful.

Unless she is.

"I have to pee." she replies, pointing to the bathrooms behind his tall stature.

"Okay. Go pee, then."

She flashes a tight smile his way as she brushes past him. She thinks from the corner of her eye she sees him stand against the wall of the small hallway, crossing her arms over his chest. The last time they were in this area together, it was right after she slept with Malcolm (the stupid, prissy idiot from the opposing team who wouldn't even smack her ass). At this point, it's been months since Harry lowly waxed poetic in her ear about how he could make all her degrading dreams come true.

The memory makes her shudder as she washes her hands.

Y/N's suspicious are proved right when she exits the bathroom to see Harry still standing there. She's prepared to ignore him and walk straight past him until he reaches out to grasp her wrist, gently pulling her back. She yelps, a tipsy, unattractive sound, and it makes Harry's eyes crease with laughter.

"You good?" he asks. Y/N's vision darts down to the gum he's chewing between his teeth and she swallows.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry shrugs. "Just making sure you're not too drunk."

"I have a dress rehearsal this weekend," she replies with a shake of her head. "I just came out to see the girls."

"And me." He points out cheekily, making her roll her eyes.

"I didn't even know you'd be here tonight, Harry."

"It's one of three bars in town and all the athletes come here."

He's right about that, and she knows he could double down by pointing out the obvious, too — that this is the only bar their friend groups ever frequent, and the hockey team rarely misses a Friday night out.

Luckily, he spares her the embarrassment.

"We have a game tomorrow night," he continues, "Will you come?"

"Why would I do that?"

"School spirit. Duh."

Y/N scoffs at that and shakes her head. She focuses her eyesight on anything but the cocky, beautiful, stupid man in front of her.

"I'm practicing all day. I'll be in an ice bath before your game even starts."

"Hot," he smirks. Y/N's stomach flutters.

"Stop being a douche. I thought we were past this."

"We are!" Harry exclaims, lifting his hands up in surrender. She only now realizes that he'd had his fingers looped around her wrist that entire time. "I'm just saying, you're hot."

"You must be more fucked up than I thought," Y/N guffaws.

"If I was fucked up, I'd be trying to sleep with you right now."

The words fly from her lips before she can even stop them: "And that's not what you're doing?"

She doesn't know if she says it because she wants to call him out on his bluff or she's feeling the confidence — and lust — from her the drinks she consumed tonight. But she doesn't take it back. And she certainly doesn't walk away as she watches Harry's head cock slightly to the side. His expression almost seems as if he's... impressed, in some way. The smirk on his lips makes her ball her fists at her side.

"You would know if I was trying to fuck you, Y/N."

She swallows. It's warm — she's suddenly so warm right now as she realizes their chests are nearly pressed against one another. The height difference between them makes it so her breasts are below his pecs, but she still feels the expanse of muscles through the layers of their clothing.

"I doubt that," she mutters, and he clenches his jaw. It's almost hypnotizing to watch. "I really think—"

"I think you should shut up now."

In a moment, his hand is spread over her hip and they've swapped places; her back now pressed firmly up against the wall. His tall form all but blocks any onlookers from seeing who he has cornered, but he couldn't forget it even if he wanted to. Not when he's been dreaming of this for weeks.

And really, he wouldn't do it if he didn't have some sort of prior knowledge about her hookup with Malcolm — the fact that she's somehow just depraved as him.

So he wedges his gum to the back of his molars, utters out the words, "open your mouth", and gathers up the spit behind his lips. His length immediately thickens in his pants when she sticks her tongue out. And then he spits in her mouth.

She whimpers instantly at the feeling but it's drowned out by his own groan. It's filthy and demeaning, but he can see it in her eyes how much she loves it.

"Looks so good," he mumbles, thumbing at a bit at the side of her mouth before pushing it in. "Swallow."

She does.

"You're well-behaved for a brat," he notes as he gives her hip a squeeze. She hums, eyes flickering when his hand lifts her shirt up slightly, fingertips trailing over the smooth skin of her stomach. "Did you want a prize, puppy?"

With hazy eyes, she nods.

He smirks, almost immediately stuffing his hand down her jeans. She gasps when he finds the sodden fabric of her underwear, eliciting a low chuckle from his chest.

"All this just for some spit? Maybe you're nastier than I thought."

She wishes she could reply back with something snarky but she can’t, not when he begins to roll her clit beneath his fingertips. Her eyes flutter shut as he applies a bit more pressure, pausing momentarily to collect some of the wetness accumulating at her whimpering hole.

“Finally let me play with this pretty pussy, hm?” he says mockingly, “Maybe one day you’ll let me stretch it out, too. Might take awhile for it to fit, though— I know you’ve never been with someone as big as me.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles breathily. He laughs and squeezes her clit between two of his fingers. She gasps, barely offering enough recovery time before he’s back to rubbing circles.

“What, you really think you could take my cock, sweetheart? You can barely take one of my fingers. Gonna have to train you for months, but I think you’d like that.”

“Harry—“

“I know,” he coos condescendingly as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “You’re such a stubborn brat you’d just want me to stuff you full on the first try. Feel me in your fuckin’ stomach.”

“‘m gonna cum,” she mewls, reaching out to dig her fingernails into his chest. He hisses from the small bite of pain. “Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna cum—“

Harry wouldn’t stop touching her even if he wanted to. Especially not as he watches her fall apart beneath his grasp, her knees almost buckling from the intensity of her orgasm. He feels her pussy clenching rapidly and he swallows harshly, the sight nearly being enough to make him come in his pants.

She’s quiet and shaky as her orgasm tapers off and Harry gently pulls his hand from her pants. He helps adjust her jeans back up and over her hips, her eyes flickering up to his face.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, her eyes widening as if she’s just realized what she’s done. “Oh my god, what the fuck?”

“What?” Harry asks through furrowed brows. He’s expecting some sort of nervous response about accidentally abandoning her friends, but instead she shakes her head and lightly pushes him away.

“I can’t. This was— this was bad, so fucking stupid.” She mumbles to herself, keeping her arms stretched out in front of her so he can’t get closer. “Fuck, Harry.”

He’s left confused and nervous as she watches her leave the bar.

#bestie asks #writing #hockey h

672 notes · View notes

lizzyk137 · 2 months

Text

Picture Perfect- A Sepencer Reid Fanfic (Spencer Reid X Reader)

Summary: After months of not hearing from Spencer you move on, breaking both of your hearts. What he wasn't expecting was a frantic call from you one night. Warnings: Fluff, slight panic.

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

"Spence, please tell me you're going home after this." JJ said, eyes squinted as she watched him fiddle with stuff on his desk.

He cleared his throat and nodded before answering. "I will. I just want to make sure everything is ready for when I come back into work tomorrow."

"Are you thinking it's going to be a long night?" Morgan interjected jokingly.

Spencer just rolled his eyes and went back to making sure everything was in its proper spot.

Rossi came down the stairs and headed towards the small gathering that as forming around Spencer. His brows raised at Spencer dawdling. "Still avoiding things?"

"No, I'm just straightening up before leaving for the day."

"Reid, we're profilers, we know you're avoiding going home." Rossi smirked. "Go home, she's waiting for you."

"Fine, I will." Spencer collected his belongings and headed to the elevators knowing his team was watching him go. He headed towards the bus stop after being cleared to leave, his thoughts going a mile a minute.

He had been away for seven months working at the Las Vegas's FBU headquarters, helping train and work on cases. It at first started off as a case the whole team was invited in but as time went on trying to catch a team of killers, Spencer enjoyed being near his mom and decided to take on mentoring for a few months. He thought it was a smart move, but he never took into account of one thing. You.

He left one day then never came back. That was how you saw it. He didn't answer his phone for three weeks, his head focused solely on catching the monsters behind all the killings. All you had gotten back as a reply from the many calls and texts was a few sentences telling you that he would be staying there for a few months and that he was okay. At first you were okay with the decision, knowing what he was doing was for the good of the city and that what he was teaching was saving lives. But the texts and calls started to slow down and eventually you would count yourself lucky if he answered you back a week later.

Spencer was so busy helping on cases that he would forget to text you back, but he thought you understood. It wasn't until he came home to find the shared apartment empty of your belongings. At first, he was frantic, searching for you everywhere, but that turned to desperation and then quickly turned to a broken heart. You wouldn't reply back to any of his calls or texts, and he tried to get Penelope to find you, which he gave him a hard no a stern glare before turning back to her computers.

He didn't understand what he did wrong until the team pulled him to the side and explained it.

You were hurt by him. The replies became nonexistent, and you gave up trying to make things work.

He was a fool. A stupid fool.

He was almost home when his phone rang from an unknown caller. He ignored it and continued walking from the bus stop to his apartment when the phone rang again from the same number. Sighing, he answered and put it to his ear. "Hello?" The voice that answered made his feet stop.

"Spence?" You called out after a few moments of silence, your voice breathy.

He cleared his throat. "Y/N?"

"Spence... I need help... Please come..." He heard a loud crash, his heart stopping.

"Y/N, where are you? I'm on the way." His feet had already started racing to his parked car.

You gasped out the address, as he started the car racing to you. He made it to the apartment within a few minutes, drawing his gun as he made it up the stairs to the apartment. He heard another crash from inside, and before he could think, his foot was kicking in the door, and he was clearing the room. He saw you on the floor, your back to him as he heard you cry out in pain.

He was by your side in a second as he turned you slowly over, your large belly coming into frame. His eyes went wide as you looked at him, tears in your eyes as you clutched his arm.

"What's going on?" His eyes searching your face for answers.

"Hospital. I need go." You said through gritted teeth as your grip tightened on his arms.

Spencer quickly shook his head, and then cleared his throat. He helped you up onto your feet, grabbing the purse and diaper bag by the door that you directed him to get. He quickly locked up to find you trying to make your way down the stairs, if he wasn't in such a shock, he would laugh at you as you waddled around.

You grabbed the railing and cried out. He was by your side in a second, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out the door.

"Any news?" Hotch asked, as he sat down next to Spencer in the hospital's waiting room.

"No, they're running some tests, so I stepped out." Spencer was crouched down, his elbows on his knees his eyes focused on his clasped hands and the ground.

He had been struggling the past three hours to come up with answers that were already answered. The baby was his and you tried so hard to tell him but when he stopped replying you left to start the next step in your life alone.

Everyone knew but him. They had visited you daily to make sure you were okay, and they became your family, the only thing that was missing was Spencer. You knew you needed him; you were still in love with him, but he hurt you and you needed more than just an apology.

"Has it happened?!" He heard Penelope's voice scream as he looked up to see a giant pile of balloons headed his way.

"Not yet they're running some tests."

"Oh good! I can't miss out on our baby's arrival."

Another hour went by, and Reid was called to go into one of the hospital rooms. He lingered by the door for a second before pushing the door in to find you lying in bed, a beautiful sweaty mess as you reached out to him. His hand quickly found yours and he brought it to his lips. "How are you feeling?

"I'm feeling better after taking the epidural." A minute went by before you continued, your voice a whisper. "I'm still mad at you. You left for so long and no word. But I can't do this without you."

Spencer brought your hand to his cheek. "I know baby. I'm never leaving you again. I've been a wreck without you. You and our baby are my first priority."

You just nodded. "We have a lot to discuss later but I'm getting sleepy."

"Get some rest, my love."

Seven hours and two broken fingers later, Spencer was watching his daughter and son swaddled as they slept, their hands holding each other's.

"They're perfect." JJ cooed.

Rossi wiped a small tear from his eye, as he gave a big pat on Spencer's back. The team had been watching the babies for about an hour as you slept.

"You're going to be a good father." Hotch smiled at Spencer before lightly touching Spencer's son's hand.

"I hope so." He looked at his kids, his daughter yawning slightly, tears filling his eyes as he realized how lucky he was. He never thought he would have kids, he thought he would never see you again, never thought you would allow him back into your life. He knew things were probably going to be rocky, a lot of conversations were going to be needed, but you had said you wanted him in your life along with being with his children.

"Spencer?" Your voice called out and him and the team looked up to see you with a big smile, your phone pointed at them as you took a photo of them. "Picture perfect."

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid scenarios #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #reid #criminal minds fanfiction

635 notes · View notes

amaranthineghost · 19 days

Note

can u do a charles leclerc x reader but the reader is like alexandra’s older sister pls pls pls i love my girl alex so much

HIS HEART THAT LIES WITH THE OTHER GIRL ( charles leclerc. )

charles leclerc x mleux!reader

charles and alexandra are good friends and feelings are starting to develop, but her older sister happened to be the one to catch his eye instead.

warnings: google translate french (please feel free to correct anything that's wrong)

authors note: the request was a little vague so I took some creative liberty, which honestly I enjoyed very much so THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST <333 I love alexandra so much too, she's so gorgeous!!! also taking a break after this because of my thumb (I do have a verstappen imagine already written so that's going to be out soon enough)

BEING AN OLDER SISTER MEANS MAKING SACRIFICES for your younger siblings. she had felt throughout her life that maybe she had been a little too selfish. it felt at times like she was the baby of the two because she didn't act as her role model. moments growing up that she should've taken the fall for alex because that's what it means to be an older sister, but she didn't. she hadn't thought of her younger sister as much as she should've. not a day went by that she hadn't felt guilty for developing feelings for the guy alexandra liked, the guy her sister fell for first.

alexandra had known him for longer than she had, yet she would realize his attention was elsewhere. his frequent trips to the house they both thought were originally because he really liked alex and wanted their parents to like him.

but alexandra was oblivious to where his heart really lied.

stolen glances from across the room, eyes lingering longer than they ever should've to begin with because maybe that's why it started in the first place. his damn, green eyes half-lidded and fluttering lashes every time he blinked, and leaning his head on his hand just staring at her from the other side of the room. a glance over her shoulder told her all she needed to know as she saw the monegasque driver eyeing her up and down. all she could do was turn away and hope alexandra wouldn't notice.

and she wouldn't, for the moment. waving her hand in front of the brunette’s face, he blamed it as being lost in thoughts about strategies for the next race. they laughed, simply joking it off and talking about how he should take a rest from thinking about his career.

but his attention kept slipping back to her. though he tried not to get lost in her appearance, he would fail greatly every time he was even near her. he didn't even have to be in the same room for him to be dazing off, thinking about how she would look better by his side. but he also felt the guilt she had, maybe not the same because he wasn't alexandra's older sibling developing feelings for the guy she liked.

but he had felt guilty. he would be lying if he said that he didn't like the girl at first. she was pretty, for starters, her magnetic smile and radiant personality was what had originally drawn him in. he felt bad to say that wasn't the reason he decided to stay.

it was no doubt alex was a nice girl, in fact the nicest he had ever met in his life and the most welcoming family was right behind her. and that's when he first saw her. after hanging out various times around monaco, occasionally sneaking back to his place, they decided it was time they met her side of the family. only then did alex not realize the mistake she was about to make.

when the door opened, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, alexandra had no clue at the time, but her sister did. she nervously laughed it off as she stepped aside so alex could pull charles inside with her. the day they met was the closest they ever were in proximity as he walked past her holding the door. the addicting perfume he wore wafted by as he was pulled along into the living room where their parents were.

throughout the whole evening, he struggled to keep his gaze away from her. alexandra wouldn't notice for a long time, and by a long time, she meant it was months.

months of stolen glances, slipping into the kitchen alone with her just to help with dishes because he was ‘such a gentleman,’ but really all he was doing was just an attempt and excuse to get close to her. grazing arms as they stood next to each other despite her assuring him it was fine. every time it occured, which was more often than it should've been, he would somehow get closer.

she didn't mind because over the course of those few months, she had grown quite fond of his gaze on her, or exchanging slight touches whenever they would pass dishes between one another. when he would've acted oblivious to how to clean them when he had first offered to help, sharing laughs that only grew louder every interaction. it had evolved from awkward explanations and silence, to small talk and then casual conversations in their native languages.

but one day, everything changed. a normal conversation turned into something different when he grabbed her wrist with his cold hands covered in water and suds from the dish soap.

his face was serious and she almost didn't hear him when he uttered the words, “je t’aime bien.” (I like you).

“charles.” she only managed his name as she froze with his words, her heart dropping in her chest. this couldn't, shouldn't, be happening. he should like alexandra, not her.

“je sais,” he started as he watched her mouth part, but no words fell from her lips, “mais je t’aime beaucoup.” (I know, but I like you a lot).

“mais ma sœur,” her other hand covered his that held her to him, pursing her lips before continuing, “Elle t’aime bien.” (but my sister, she likes you.)

he nods, muttering in french under his breath stuff that she couldn't hear. she shook her head, slipping her hands from his grasp, going back to the dishes in silence, as did he.

from the door frame, unknown to them, alexandra watched with her arms crossed. when she first saw them together, she was happy they were getting along because she didn't want animosity between the pair, and her older sister never liked the guys she dated before. but she realized far too late the way charles looked at her. the way he looked at her sister was different from the way he looked at her. a spark in his eyes and more creases when he smiled. it was genuine interest as he multitasked the dishes and listened to her talk like he could do it forever. she understood, her sister was like a magnet of different energy, one that alexandra possessed, but not on her sister’s level.

the sight, and hearing his words, in front of her confirmed what she had been suspicious of for weeks. she had finally followed his gaze to her, whether she was sat across the couch from the two, or if she had sauntered off to another room. whenever she would fold laundry with them in the room, how charles would always offer to help. she didn't notice a lot the first time, how her sister gazed between her and charles like she was going to notice his behavior. how bad his folding was, so much so that she had to take the clothes from his hands and show him how to properly do it, and how gentle he handled every item.

it wasn't like he wasn't sweet with alex, but she began to notice how much care he put into his actions that involved her. while it hurt at first because she was so deeply involved with him, she realized that maybe, just maybe, that her sister deserved him more than she did.

because from her view, her older sister gave up everything for her baby sister. even if she didn't recognize it herself, alexandra knew that over the years, she had done more for her and she didn't know how to return the favor at the time. she didn't know what could match the level she set herself.

but seeing the way they genuinely clicked, she knew that this one time, she would be the one to have to make a sacrifice. it didn't mean that her older sister was no longer mature, it just meant that she had a way to pay her back for all she had done. if that meant giving up the guy she had begun to love, she would do it. she would do it to see her sister happy for once because this was the first time in a while that she was. she wanted it to stay that way.

so when early morning came the next day, when charles had long walked out the door the previous night and sent a small smile they thought alex didn't notice, she sat down at the island. arms crossed on the cold granite counters as she sat on the cushioned barstool, watching her sister dance about the kitchen making breakfast.

she knew if she didn't speak up now, she would never, and their love story would've never had the potential to bloom.

“je sais.” (I know).

“que veux-tu dire?” (what do you mean?) her sister chuckled as she poured a glass of orange juice, looking at her with her brow raised as she turned back to the fridge.

“je sais que charles t’aime bien.” (I know charles likes you). she froze, the cold air leaking from the fridge as she stood with the orange juice jug in her hands before regaining composure and continuing on with her actions.

“je lui ai dit non, je sais que tu l'aimes bien,” (I told him no, I know you like him). she stood in front of alexandra, fearing that her sister had grown angry with her, but she knew she couldn't control charles’ feelings, and neither could her sister.

“tu aurais dû dire que tu l'aimais en retour,” (you should have said you liked him back). alexandra leaned closer, her hand raising in a gesture to her that she made a mistake by shying away, “j'irai bien.” (i will be fine).

she shook her head, the glass of orange juice on the counter clutched in her hand, “ce n'est pas juste pour toi.” (it's not fair to you).

“mais il te rend heureux,” (he makes you happy though). she sighed with a small smile, leaning back in the barstool, “dit lui.” (tell him).

“okay,” she threw her hands up in exasperation, reaching for her phone across the counter to text charles and tell him to come over, “il est en route.” (he's on his way).

“bien.” she smiled, standing up and leaving her in the kitchen.

her heart was racing. was she really going to do this? she had turned him down less than a day ago and now she was going to simply accept his abrupt confession. she rubbed her fingers to her temple and sighed, leaning down against the counter as she ate.

she didn't have to wait long to hear a familiar knock pattern he did to alert anyone that it was him.

she walked to the door slowly, like she could lose her balance if she went any quicker. cracking her knuckles with anxiety, she hesitantly opened the door to see his smiling face as if she didn't reject him.

say it. say it.

it repeated in her head as she took a deep breath while he stood confused. her face began to flush and he was wondering when he was going to be let in.

one last deep breath did the trick.

“je vous aime aussi,” (I like you too). she blurted out so quickly, he looked at her with a confused smile and a tilted head.

“qu'est-ce que c'était, chérie?” (what was that, darling?) his voice was teasing and she knew he knew what she said because now he was just messing with her.

“je vous aime aussi.”

“bien,” his hand wrapped around the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hand while their lips collided. her eyes widening in shock as her hands met the sides of his face, teetering on the edge of his hair.

when they finally parted, deep breaths being the only thing heard as they simply smiled giddily at each other like teenagers. he twirled her hair on his finger as he looked at her with such deep admiration, more than she would've ever thought. the sacrifice her younger sister made paid her back ten times over, and the only things she could do was either just hug her in appreciation, or set her up with one of charles’ friends.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves

proofread by @foreveralbon <3

874 notes · View notes

manmuncher777 · 8 months

Text

How You Deserve | JOHN PRICE

words - 5k

warnings - smut, unprotected, p in v, fingering, oral fem!recieving, slight degradation, cheating?

a/n: huge thankyou so much to @sky-is-the-limit for allowing me to use her idea, it's helped kickstart my writing again on a fresh account. I do plan on writing more, definitely. I am just a very slow paced writer. But I put a lot of effort into this and hope it lived up to what you imagined. This is the idea she had.

MDNI!!!

Apartment 138 b

Your apartment. 139 b was John's.

He told you to call him John when you first met, and you couldn’t think of another name since. You had lived there for just under 5 months now and seeing your neighbour every now and then was a blessing.

God the man was attractive, you always loved an older man, and my god does he pull it off well. When you first met he offered to help you move the rest of your things, and who were you to decline such an offer, watching his muscles flex and he picked up boxes. He even told you to call if you had an issue - giving you his number for ‘emergencies’. The little graze of his hand against your made you wonder if you could use it for more than that.

And of course you did call, one day when your sink wouldn’t stop dripping. you knew just the man to call, and when he came over you made sure to take great care of him.

You may have spent the afternoon cleaning your whole apartment before getting dressed up, but not to the point where it would have been noticeable. Just enough that you hoped you might catch his attention.

“Thank you so much once again John” you said as you moved about your kitchen, past the man under your sink. Your eyes not being able to resist travelling over that part of his exposed torso as he was under you sink. His shirt riding up with every movement of his arms, just enough to tease you. You bit your lip at the sight.

“sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me so much, it’s fine honestly. I'm happy to help, gets me out of the house” he joked, tinkering about with all sorts of tools, you leaned over the counter, watching as his forearms flexed with each twist of the wrench.

Fuck... those pet names he gave you always left you fangirling. He made you blush like a little school girl.

“wow, and here’s me thinking you had a wild night life”

he chuckles as you can’t help but smile at the sound, god even his laugh was sexy, and you wish you could see the smile on his face.

“Not me, the wildest I get is staying up past 10 on a weekday.”

“I'm shocked, I thought you would be a man of the night, getting up to all kinds of mischief, bringing women home and going down to the pub.” You fake shock, secretly you were just doing this to find out more about him. Find out if he had a girlfriend that was lucky enough to have him.

“Nope” he laughed once more “no wild women of the night for me”

‘awh dammit, that’s my chance blown then”

“well I do believe in second chances love." he says after a moments silence. He gets up from under the sink, standing with you counter top in between you both. His aftershave wafting towards you with his movements, drawing you in.

"lucky me then..." You say just above a whisper as you stare up at the man in front of you. God.

What you wouldn't do to jump over the counter and drag him to bed with you, wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and dragging your hands over his muscular back. You felt jealous of your sink pipes for a second, realising that they got to feel his hands and you didn't.

But sadly he bid you a good night, letting you know he was just a call away if you needed help with anything. You watched after him as he walked out of your door and into his own.

You planned on breaking lots of stuff around the house to get him back round.

You saw him all the time, you would sometimes go out and plan to arrive the same time that he did, you soon figured out he was some kind of military man, and watching him walk by you in his uniform was a sight to behold, you would 'accidentally' drop your keys in order to prolong the time you could see him. You would exchange pleasantries and smiles whenever you saw each other, but you always noticed his stare lingering on you, and you never minded. To be fair, you practically undressed the man with your eyes whenever he returned home in his uniform. The sound of his boots against the stairs up your complex would leave you skin tingling.

In the mornings when he was due to leave for work you would be outside if your house in skimpy nightwear, getting your mail and wishing him a good day at work.

He was convinced that he actually had a better day at work on those mornings that he saw you. God he wouldn't even let you out of the apartment looking like that, he would keep you wrapped up in his arms in bed, risking being late to work for a few more minutes. He had to practically force himself to keep walking past and not stand and stare. But you were so sweet, practically inviting him in.

You were also so pleasant to him, he remembers having to correct you every time you called him 'Mr Price' and act like it didnt turn him on. You always dressed so nicely whenever he was round, wearing tops with necklines that complimented your breasts, or tight fitting skirts. And the smell of your perfume whenever he some over is almost intoxicating, its as if you sprayed some right before he came through the door (you did).

He was tempted to break something each time he was round so he had another reason to come back, he liked having you fawn over him. Asking him about his job, making him tea, giving him cookies to take back with him. And the way you would look up at him and rub his arm as he told you to call him if there was any thing you needed. And as he looked down at you, his mind couldnt help but wander.

Holding your stare he wondered if you would keep the same eye contact with him whilst you were sucking his cock, or he imagined if those pretty eyes would screw shut if he was eating you pussy. He had to shake himself out of it, walking away with lusty eyes and pants that felt significantly tighter than before.

Now you did have a boyfriend. kind of. a weird relationship with a guy you met a few months ago, he was a friend of a friend. You didn’t mind him, he filled the void and while you felt bad that it wasn’t a true relationship, you knew he felt a similar way. You could see his eyes wander and he’s always been rather secretive. A few times you have suspected cheating, but honestly couldn’t bother yourself with the drama. You didnt love him, and he didnt love you. simple. He served a purpose, or he did. He's started to not do so well in serving that purpose recently.

So there you lay, wishing you had spent the evening calling John over to fix the shower, instead you had your boyfriend rather aggressively trying to rub your clit, and failing rather miserably.

He had never been great at sex, but as of recently you kept having to question why you would invite him round, he never got better.

"you like that? yeah? you like my huge cock. It's big right?" okay. overstatement.

He thrust in and out of you hard and fast, clearly focused on chasing his own pleasure, his average - not huge - cock was not doing much for you. "so big inside you huh?" he questioned again, his rubbing not slowing down, neither his thrusts. You let out a lacklustre moan, hoping the quiz about the size of his penis would stop. You tried to be in the moment, but it wasn't really working. He had you in missionary, he wasn't even looking at you and to be honest, you were almost bored. He wasn't here for you, he was here for himself.

It left you questioning why you even let him come over "a bit to the left" you tried to ask him, guiding his hand with your own, but he wasn't really interested. Hardly paying attention. a few seconds later his thumb moving back to where it was before. no where near you clit.

"oh fuck- gonna cum" he splutters out, pushing all his weight onto you

God why didnt you call John. Of course he was on your mind right now.

Suddenly you felt embarrassed, he could probably hear this absolute shit show. You had days where you could hear his tv through your shared wall, and you realised he could probably hear this.

That embarrassment was soon replaced with another feeling when you got a little idea in your head.

"oh FUCK" you let out a nearly pornographic moan that even had your boyfriend snapping his head to look at you. You were fully aware that your bedroom wall was the shared wall between you and John.

"that feel good, feel it deep inside you?" oh god you were encouraging him. You just hoped John could hear this, because otherwise you would be boosting your boyfriends ego for no reason.

"soo good, fuck yes. right there. oh my god" you kept on, moaning loader and louder, practically squealing and screaming. "Sooo big!" God you actually had to try not to laugh at yourself.

This clearly excited your boyfriend as his thrusts sped up even more, a few seconds later and he was cumming with a load noise. You of course pretended you had cum too, putting on your best performance yet.

"oh fuck, yes yes yes gonna cum, OH, oh fuck" you squealed. Having to slap your hand over you mouth to stop a laugh following. John couldnt have not heard that. In fact you think the whole apartment building heard it.

Your boyfriend practically crushing you under you weight now, feeling rather proud of himself. He then leaves nothing but a few minutes later, of course. Not bothering to check on you. God you really needed to break up with him.

After cleaning yourself up and getting into some comfy clothes you decided you needed some fresh air, to try and get the captain out of your mind. You swear the say he told that he was a captain you almost exploded, got to love an authority figure as well. He just kept getting better and better.

As you lean on the railing just outside your front door, you heard movement from you neighbour, and as if it was a sign from the universe to tell you that he would forever be stuck in your mind, John comes out. Rather hurriedly zipping up his coat and locking his door.

"in a rush?" you ask as you watch him, a small smile on your face as you watch him freeze at your voice. As he turns to you, you can see his pink tinted face, as you hope its because of your little act earlier.

"uh, yeah, just needed some things" he says, clearing his throat as he glances at you, not looking at you for more than a few seconds before looking away.

"hmm, have fun" you nod at him, and he rushes off. You almost giggle to yourself as you made him squirm. Your hoping that your little plan worked.

And you think it did, Johns stares at you in the hallways became more intense, and when you did get him round to fix the shower, its as if he didnt want to leave, always finding new ways to continue a conversation or different things he needed to fix. You could basically feel the tension when you two got close. You wanted him, badly.

Just to make him squirm even more, you wanted to make him snap. You needed him to react, to do something, so you tried you little boyfriend trick once more. Calling over you disappointing boyfriend, who clearly enjoyed himself more than you, and then faking it louder than before. Something truly turned you on about the fact he could hear. And minutes after it finished you boyfriend left again.

You were prancing about your apartment, rather pleased with yourself once more. I mean, maybe not pleased as you just had incredibly shit sex, but it was worth it you hoped. After a quick shower to wash the evening disappointment off of you, you chucked on some panties and an oversized shit, preparing to wrap yourself up and watch a movie of some kind. Your wet hair tickling your back as you reached to grab some fluffy socks. Then without warning your whole apartment goes dark, you body jumps slightly as you search for your drawers, finding the flashlight you keep. Great just what you needed after trying to make a bad night good.

You rush about you apartment lighting some candles in each room, but you didnt have many.

This is an emergency, you thought to yourself.

Seeing as you didnt have your phone on you, it made sense to go and knock on his door, it was the evening, but not late enough for him to be asleep. You rush to your own door, opening only to find the man you were just about to go and get. huh, maybe you summoned him or something.

"John, I was just about to come get you, is your power out as well, what did you need?" you ask, curious as to why this huge man was standing outside your door, basically blocking and of the night sky from being seen behind him.

"I'm here to finish what that stupid little boy you fuck around with cant" He says, and you can feel your insides flip at his deep voice.

"Mr price-" You start, shocked to see the burly man practically oozing with lust, his heavy breathing and unbreaking stare made you feel timid as your legs turn to jelly, taking a few steps back.

"John." he corrects, stepping forward into you dimly lit apartment "Every fucking time I see his car pull up, I have to stop myself from beating the living shit out of him. How could a man not spoil something as precious as you" He says, his huge hands now gripping at your waist, you go to speak but he cuts you off. "and don't even try and lie, I know your faking it. I know you haven't cum a single time you've been with him, but still you want to tease me, you know exactly what you've been doing to me you fucking minx"

You don't even know what to say, you've been caught red handed. You lean into his grasp on your waist, his hands feeling even better than you could have imagined.

"not so noisy now love are you?" he coos at you, he can see you resolve slowly failing as you become putty in his hands "how about this? I give us what we both want and treat you like you deserve." A small smirk resides on his face as he watches your eyes light up.

He was cocky, but you loved it.

"yes John please, I'm sorry." You practically whine at the man as he quickly shuts your door behind him, the loss of his hands feels like a sin, but soon he grabbing you by the hand and taking you to your bedroom, you chuckle internally at the fact he knows his way around you apartment so easily.

"oh no darling, I'm sorry. I should've seen what a desperate slut you were sooner." He's whispering in your ear at this point, telling you filthy things, getting you as desperate for him as he's been for you. Gently placing you down on the bed before positioning himself between you legs, kissing at your thighs "Poor thing, you've been begging for it for months now, how cruel am I for not giving it to you"

Honestly you don't know how to react. Your brain has gone to mush while this gorgeous man is muttering filth to you and he's about to eat you out, but his stare is full of innocence. Those gorgeous eyes not breaking eye contact with you, even as he kisses you over your panties. You try your best not to cry out at the sight, but that is just a promise of what is to come

"let me show you what you've been missing out on, please?" there's that fake innocence again, it may seem like he's asking you to be sure, but he already knows your answer. He just wants to hear you say it.

"Please John, I want it so bad, want you." you beg him. I t felt good to finally tell him, all of that tension finally being released. And all you saw was the cocky smirk on his face again before he was removing your panties.

"shit sweetheart, Your practically soaked and I haven't even touched you yet. Did he ever do this for you?" John asked, running a finger through you soaked folds, to be honest you didnt even know you could get this wet before the sex even started. You shook your head, of course he didn't, he never thought to be that generous.

"dickhead" you could hear price mutter to himself as he continued to tease your dripping hole with his fingers. "what a waste" Without warning he then plunges two fingers deep inside of your, letting out a low groan at how wet you are.

You couldnt help but break the shared eye contact with him as your hands gripped as you bedsheets and your eyes screwed shut. Finally you were getting what you had been deprived of for so long. His fingers starting pumping in and out of you slowly, building a consistent pace. This time, instead of forced the moans you were so used to the moan let out was completely involuntary and you hands fisted as your sheets. John cant help but let out a small chuckle at the noises you make when he finally gets his hand on you.

"shh, that's it sweetheart, just relax f'me" he rumbled as his other hand finds it way to stroking you thigh, trying to calm your tense state. Your eyes snapped open, trying to get a glimpse of John. Each thrust of his fingers sending you mind further and further into mush. Your hips chasing his ever move, bucking with every brush against your g-spot.

He looked heavenly, his face gently lighted by the candles in the room, his hair slightly out of place while his eyes focus themselves on you completely. His hands flexing with every movement he makes.

Never taking his eyes off you, he leans down, finally tasting you. His tongue licking gently stripes, collecting your wetness.

He moans at the taste, something oh so satisfying about finally getting his mouth on you. Like his dreams come true.

His thick fingers worked magic inside you as their movements never faltered. His tongue increasing in its assault of your clit, running over the bundle of nerves over and over leaving you twitching and writhing beneath him. You could already feel you orgasm approaching yet he had hardly gotten started yet. "fuck, so good" you whimpered out, and you saw the pleased look he had on his face. Your body twisted and writhed on your bed, not used to the intense pleasure you were feeling as this man carefully and skilfully worked on your pussy.

"I know, I know. Being so good for me." he whispered, and even that drew another moan out of you. It was almost overwhelming, you hadn't had someone care for your pleasure solely before, and it almost seemed as if John was getting off on it by the quite groans he was letting out himself. Waves of pleasure flowing over you, and you wouldn.t mind being drowned in this feeling as you slip further into the lust.

Your hands released their iron grip that they held on the sheets and found their way to his hair, tugging at the dark roots. This seemed only to encourage the man lapping at your cunt. He was devoted for sure. The feeling of your hands gripping his hair, letting him know that he was doing his job right.

He could sense you were already nearing your climax, he could feel you tightening around his fingers, practically sucking him back in every time he threatened to leave. His tongue sucking your clit, focusing its movements, and that mixed with an added finger and some verbal encouragement, your orgasm grew ever closer. Every breathy moan as whimper was a signal to john that he was doing a job well done, he watched your face eagerly, watching to see what had an affect on you, trying to see what you liked the most. He wanted it just as much as you did. A desperate plea for release clear within you both

"come on darling, give it to me. Good girl." he spoke lowly, watching as you tried to force you eyes open, yet failing as your orgasm took over. You stomach tightening as his fingers carefully rode you through. You could be certain you weren't faking any of those moans as you basically sung his name like a prayer. "John, fuck, fuck-oh my god". Your legs tightened around his hand as you felt like every nerve in your body was on fire. You had finally received the pleasure you had been wishing for and it left your eyes burning with tears, tears of pleasure of course.

"There you go sweetheart, you did so well f'me" He whispers as he kisses up your body, his hands tracing over your skin as if he were trying to memorise every inch of it. He almost seemed angry that your shirt served as another layer between you both as he ridded you of both his and yours, throwing them somewhere in your room. You were too far gone to notice. You chest still heaving up and down as you came down from you climax. "Thank you" was the only thing you could mutter to him and he kissed up your chest and neck, before finally kissing you on the lips. You both moaning at the sensation, at something that had been long awaited. You had found their way to the back of his neck as he kissed you hard, his lips almost punishing yours as his tongue entered your mouth. You allowed yourself to be claimed by him, having no desire for any kind of power, you were his for him to do with as he pleased.

"can you take a bit more for me sweetheart? Got to have my cock inside you” he groans lowly in your ear, the noise practically ungodly. You whine, you cant tell if its at the loss of the contact of his lips or his filthy mouth. Or maybe its the huge hand now making its way to your breasts, playing with your nipples ever so gently, making it harder for you to form words.

"oh don't tell me I've lost you already love? First time being fucked properly and your already gone." He coos at you, smirking to himself. He is rather proud of the effect he's having on you, it had gone far better than he expected. Although your previous boyfriend didnt really leave much he had to live up to.

"please John, fuck me. I need it so bad, need your cock." Your whole body was practically screaming out for more. Your mind only being able to focus on one thing as your eyes trace over the man in front of you. The buzz of your previous orgasm still on your skin leaving you craving another. You couldnt help but be selfish as this man was offering himself to you so generously.

"oh you need it darling? well in that case..." he trails off, pulling your legs open, wide enough for him to fit in between as he lines himself up at your entrance, slowly teasing you, dragging his red tip through your folds. He had enough composure to tease himself also by doing this, being almost painfully hard. You couldnt help but watch intently, almost being mesmerised by the lewd act.

He couldn't take it anymore. H e needed to be inside you, he craved it. All those times he had imagined you bent over your kitchen counter, or him dragging you back to his room to have his way with you finally coming true.

Slowly, he pressed himself inside of you, inch by inch. He wanted you to feel him, all of him. And he certainly was big. A joint moan released by the both as you as he sinks himself inside of you fully, and he stays unmoving for a moment, basking in the closeness you now both shared.

You were absolutely fucked. You couldnt keep it together. You were so full, finally so satisfied that you couldnt even think straight, all your mind was focusing on was how you stretched so well around him. It was taking everything for you not to start moving your hips or crying out for him, trying to keep your restraint as you felt practically euphoric. You felt like you had been lit on fire, your skin feeling alive with every breath he took, the slight movement inside of you.

Finally after what seemed like centuries John moves. His forehead dropping down to rest on yours as he tries to ease a slow pace, practically torturing himself.

"Holy fuck- so perfect. You feel so fucking perfect f'me sweetheart" he groans out from above you, his whole body encasing yours as his hips speed up pace.

Your hands find his back, clawing at the skin as you lay with you mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Your eyes fluttering shut as you try to focus on how good you are feeling right now. That is until a firm hand grasps you jaw, not enough to hurt but enough to make your eyes open.

"You keep your eyes on me, don't you dare look away. Want you to watch me as I ruin you." he whispers to you. He wouldn't be surprised if you didnt understand what he said, you were a whimpering mess. He had just asked one of the hardest things for you to do. You had to watch this man fuck the shit out of you, it was almost too much to handle.

His deep groans echoing in your room, partnered with your moans.

What you don't realise is seeing you in this way, so vulnerable is his favourite part. The sparkle in you glossed over eyes as you cant help but be trained on him, the smudged mascara framing them perfectly. You glistening with either your spit or his, either way it turns him on. You spread out so innocently before him, for him to be the one to make you feel so good, and not be able to fake it even if you tried.

his hips were punishing, every thrust now pulling a moan out of you, music to his ears he thought as he smirked down at you. how cute he thought, watching you struggle not to close your eyes an scrunch them shut at the pleasure

"Too much for you sweetheart?" he questioned mockingly, receiving only a cry in response. You clench around him, never wanting him to leave your walls. He definitely didnt want to leave them either.

His hands coming down to brace your hips, stilling you wriggling as he pounds into you, harder and faster, he wants you to be able to feel him afterwards. He doesn't want there to ever be someone that can make you feel as good as him. You clench again, and again and John ca tell your close.

"Gonna come for me again love? Come on, on my cock, there's a good girl" Jesus this man knew exactly what to say to have you screaming for him. One of his hands releasing the bruising grip it kept on you hips to rub at your puffy clit.

With your moans and the way you fit him so perfectly, He couldn't see himself lasting much longer either, his main mission is to have you cumming before him.

"come on darlin, need it. Come all over my cock" Whispering in your ear with that gorgeous voice of his as his thumb fingers rub tight circles on your clit and his huge cock is practically splitting you open has you tumbling over the edge.

"John, oh my fucking god." Every muscle in your body tensed as he made you cum once again. God it was so good, like a coil that had finally been released. At last you had finally been satisfied. Your legs wrapping around his back, trapping him in as his hips still hammered into you, leaving you shaking from sensitivity. Like a madman possessed he chased his own orgasm, watching where you both connected intently as you soaked him completely with your release.

"Fuck sweetheart, gonna ruin this perfect little pussy" He moans, his hips now faltering in their pace, stuttering as his orgasm comes close. Your overstimulated body now quivering as you do you best to clench round the man, wanting to bring him the same pleasure that he just gave you.

"please John, i want it so bad" you whisper to him, and that sends him over the edge, spilling himself inside of you, thrusting his cu deep inside of you, continuing until he couldn't anymore. His hips stilling as he finishes, before gently pulling out of you. His eyes unmoving as he watches himself seeping out of you used hole. He wanted this moment imprinted on his brain

You lay there on the bed, completely fucked out and unmoving as he goes to grab a washcloth. It saddens him slightly to clear away this mark he had left in you. But he does it either way, gently cleaning you both off.

He soon settles next to you, a content sigh leaving his mouth. "So, who was better me or your ex?" he asks, a stupid question with an obvious answer. Laughing as you slap him playfully on the arm

"Oh my ex for sure"

#captain john price #cod x reader #cod fanfic #john price x reader #john price smut #john price cod #mw2 smut #cod smut #captain john price smut #call of duty smut

1K notes · View notes

nathaslosthershit · 2 months

Text

Trips to See the In-Laws (LS2)

Summary: In order to save his teammate from an interviewer with not so innocent thoughts, Alex has to reveal that his thought-to-be-single friend, Logan, is actually in a long term relationship.

“Alex, Logan, so wonderful to have you both here with me today. Now that we are rapidly approaching the first race of the season, how are you both feeling? How was both your breaks?”

“Well firstly, thank you for having us. It has honestly been crazy. Break has gone by fast and with all the training we’ve been doing, I honestly feel ready to just jump in the car and start back up.” Logan replies.

It was no secret that Logan Sargeant had been training much more during the off season, everyone had seen how much he had changed. The way the interviewer was staring at him though, as if he was their next meal, was making him shift uncomfortably in the seat.

Alex, being as perceptive as ever, immediately saw the change in Logan’s demeanor. He was confused by it until he saw how the interviewer shifted closer to Logan, eyeing him up and down in a very flirtatious manner. He then chimed in to try and alleviate the tension. “Yeah, busy break but we have been putting in the work and I think we are both ready for this upcoming season.”

“You both look very different from the start of last year. Alex with your hair and Logan has gotten very, very fit.” Dammit, this interviewer really wasn’t going to let it go, Alex thought.

“Um yeah, we are both pretty different looks wise.” Alex weakly responded. What was he supposed to say, the interviewer didn’t exactly ask a question.

“I was in a pretty bad state at the end of last season, both mentally and physically. I worked really hard this off season to improve both of those things and gained 5 kilos. I feel much better now that I am at a more healthy weight and I think it just cements how much more learning and growing I needed last year.” God, how can the interviewer continue to try and eye fuck Logan while he gives such a sincere and vulnerable answer, Alex wonders. He knew he needed to help his teammate and friend in some way, but the idea that came to mind might have some consequences. But surely it was better than the alternative of letting Logan get harassed.

“Well Logan, you took some time to travel a bit since being here in New York” Alex teased.

“Ohhh, where did you go Logan?” the interviewer asked, intrigued at the blush on Logan’s face that had appeared as he picked up on where Alex was trying to go with this.

“Well actually, my girlfriend is originally from New york and still has family that live outside the city so they very kindly invited me to visit them and watch the Superbowl. She wasn’t too happy that I got to see her family while she is stuck in London but also was ecstatic that they clearly like me enough to invite me to visit even when she isn’t with me. It was sweet and such a kind gesture, definitely beats spending that night watching the game in a hotel room alone.”

“Hey, I would have watched with you. You wouldn't have been alone” Alex said, offended.

“Mate, you did not have any actual interest in watching the game.” Logan responded.

“But I still would have kept you company.”

Before the two could continue their fight, the interviewer bursted out a very aggressively asked “Girlfriend?”

The two were quiet then, not knowing what to say. The interviewer wasn’t looking at Logan like a piece of meat anymore, but now he had to deal with this sudden hard launch of his relationship.

“Uh yeah, I have been in a relationship for a while now. Met my girlfriend when I moved to London. We lived in the same apartment and had moved in around the same time. Insane luck, I guess.” Logan answered, still blushing.

“Leave it to Logan to find the one other American in his apartment complex and immediately start dating her.” Alex teased.

“Hey! It was a coincidence and she is from New York while I’m from Florida, they are practically two different countries.”

“Yeah whatever.” Alex rolled his eyes playfully.

The interviewer, now upset at practically getting rejected, stopped asking questions and just watched as the two Willaims drivers took over the interview, rambling, and teasing each other, till it was time to end it.

The interview had immediately gained popularity once it had been posted. Not many drivers hard launch the way Logan did and while Logan hadn't anticipated that this was how his relationship was found out, he did have to thank Alex for getting him out of that situation.

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 73,355 others

logansargeant My favorite New Yorker 💙

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant x reader #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #alex albon x reader

1K notes · View notes

blacknight1230 · 5 months

Text

Healing Touches

(Y/n) is suffering from one of the worst migraines they had ever had, but luckily she has two wonderful partners to help her feel better.

poly!Halsin X Reader X Astarion

Everything hurt. Why does everything hurt? That was the first thing you were thinking of when you woke up that morning. The sounds of the birds singing their morning song, the sunlight breaking through the slit in your tent's opening, the reverberating throbbing of your head ... it could only mean one thing. You were suffering from a migraine. You tried to get up to try and find something to help you with your pain, but the slightest movement made a wave of dizziness and nausea to overcome you. Spots danced across your eyes, even when they were closed and your back teeth were even in pain. This is by far the worst migraine you have ever experienced, and you've suffered from quite a lot. This is what I get for not having my medication with me, you thought. Yet another thing you took for granted when you somehow managed to transport yourself from the modern world to the magical and chaotic world of Faerûn. How you did that, you still did not know.

The vertigo you were dealing with made it impossible for you to physically get help. So, you did the only thing possibly in this situation; you used your tadpole to connect with one of your companions. You psychically reached out to one of your nearby companion's tadpole, latching onto the first one your worm felt. You struggled to maintain the connection and formulate proper thoughts to convey your need for help. Before you were able to identify who you were connected with, said connection broke as you lost concentration, your head now pounding even harder. Everything felt numb as blood rushed in your ears and spots danced behind your eyes again.

The opening of your tent flap and sunlight pouring in signalled that someone had entered your informal abode. You sheltered under the layers of your bedroll and hissed at the brightness, not able to see who came to your rescue. "Are you alright, pet? I felt you reach out to me," a sauve cool voice asked. Astarion, you inwardly cooed. The silver haired vampire noticed your aversion to the light, closing the tent flap behind him as he shuffled closer to you. "Darling, please say something," he worried. You peaked an eye over the edge of your bedroll cover, met with the handsome face of your vampiric lover. His usual lustrous saccharine eyes were soft with concern, furrowed brows showing the hidden wrinkles of his forehead. "Migraine," you managed to say, voice coming out raspy and low. The slight movement of your jaw did not help the resounding pain in your back teeth, which in turn made your head worse. "Oh, my sweet little love," he cooed. He reached a hand out and brushed it across the apple of your cheek, the slightest touch of his cold skin providing you with relief. "Let me go get, Halsin. He'll surely know what to do."

"No, stay," you whispered, wanting nothing more than for him to wander his icy hands over your head and neck. Astarion let out a sad chuckled, kneeling over you to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry, my love. But I'll be right back, I promise." His icy touch left you as he careful made his way outside without letting any light disturb you.

You laid there, in silence and pain, for who knows how long. Time felt slower as the throbbing continued in your skull. Sleep refused to take you under its wings, and there was no way you could sit up and read a book. When the hulking frame of Halsin appeared in your tent's entrance way, you swore it was a godsend.

"Oh, my heart," the druid cooed when he laid eyes on you. "Halsin," you whimpered out. Tears were brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you wouldn't let him see them cascade down your face. "I've got some natural remedies to help you with your pain, my heart. But first you need to tell me where it hurts?" Halsin softly told you, kneeling down beside you. "Everywhere. It hurts everywhere," you told your hulking lover.

Astarion quietly shuffled himself into the privacy of your tent, situating himself to sit on the blanketed ground facing the other side of Halsin. "Darling, you need to be more specific so Halsin can help you? Can you do that for us?" he coached you, taking his hand to gentle rub away the furrowing of your forehead. You audibly let out a sigh of relief at the coldness of his fingers, losing yourself in his touch. "It looks like she enjoys that, Astarion. I suggest you continue while I prepare the appropriate remedies," Halsin cooed.

You just groaned in pleasure as Astarion's lithe fingers continued to massaged away the stress in your forehead muscles. You felt them relax, and in turn you stopped scrunching your eyes shut as the pain slightly lessened. But the back of your head, right where your spine meets your skull, was still throbbing in pain, so you grabbed Astarion's other hand and brought it to the spot. The vampire spawn seemed to understand what you wanted, slowly but firmly rolling the sore tissue under his pale fingertips. A small gasp was brought to your lips and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears lessened to the point you could now hear Halsin grinding some medical herbs in a mortar and pestle somewhere inside your tent.

Liquid sloshed in a container as Halsin returned to you, having finished what he was doing. "I made you something to help with your migraine. I need you to sit up so you can drink it. Can you do that for me?" he informed. You mumbled out a small yes, struggling to prop yourself up on your elbows. Astarion wrapped an arm around your torso and gently pulled you to lean up against his chest. You placed a chaste kiss on his hand as a thank you. You were able to open your eyes now, though you still squinted due to not being used to the light, still somewhat sensitive to it. But you were able to make out Halsin kneeling beside you with a glass bottle filled with some reddish liquid inside held in his large hand.

"Here you go, my heart. Drink as much as you can," he said as he brought the glass rim up to your lips. You opened your mouth, humming as the first drop of the medicine hit your tongue. Mmm, chamomile, you thought. There was a hit of sweetness to it, as if Halsin added spoon of honey to the mixture., that craffy bear. You hummed in enjoyment at the taste, signalling to Halsin to tilt the bottle some more so you could drink more its contents.

When you almost finished the mixture, Halsin pulled the bottle away. "Not too much, my heart. There will be plenty more for you later," he teased. You mewled as you leaned further into Astarion's chest, eyes starting to feel droopy. Astarion let out a light chuckle at your affections. "I see the herbs are already working. Would you like us to stay with you while you nap, my darling?" he playfully ask. You nodded, looking up into his ruby eyes with a child-like pout on your lips. "Please. I want some cuddles," you pleaded. "Oh, darling, how could we ever say no to a face like that," Astarion cooed, placing two light kisses against your eyelids.

You repositioned yourself so you were laying on your stomach with your head on Astarion's chest. The vampire wrapped his arms around your middle and laid a kiss on your head, before settling himself back onto your sleeping pillow. Your druid partner threw an arm over the both of you as he laid on his side, his muscular chest warming your side while his chin rested lightly on Astarion's white locks. You could feel the tangling of your legs with your partners, a smile making your way to your face. "Sweet dreams, my sweet," Astarion whispered in your ear. "Rest well, my love," Halsin purred, rubbing soothing circles into your back. The scent of your loves and the sound of their rhythmic breathing lulled you back to sleep, the pain that once plagued you moment you woke up long forgotten as you laid within their loving embraces.

1K notes · View notes