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#there's a whole world out there don't pretend you want to be a part of mine bc you don't like change!!!
idiopathicsmile · 7 months
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you know what really grinds my gears?
okay, bear with me: so as you may know, harry houdini and arthur conan doyle were friends, at least for a while.
by the early 1920s, both arthur conan doyle and acd's wife jean, aka lady doyle, believed whole-heartedly in spiritualism, talking to ghosts and all of that. (sidenote: this was of course right on the heels of a devastating world war and a devastating pandemic, both of which had created a huge population of grieving people, so spiritualism was having a moment.)
lady doyle sincerely thought she had the ability to go into a trance state and pass along messages in writing from the dead. she offered to do this for houdini. houdini agreed.
lady doyle attempted to channel houdini's late mother. she basically drew a cross at the top of the paper and filled it with generic platitudes addressed to "harry." houdini's mom was jewish and didn't talk like that, so houdini knew the jig was up, even if lady doyle didn't. but not wanting to make the situation awkward, he kind of went along with it to their faces.
then acd decided to publish a glowing account of the seance, and since both he and houdini were super famous, it got a lot of attention, and letters started pouring in for houdini, asking if this was true. ultimately, houdini couldn't lie about it. so he essentially said, like, "yeah, i think lady doyle THINKS she can talk to ghosts but she absolutely can't." and it ruined his friendship with acd forever.
and then of course a lot of the people running seances weren't even well-intentioned like lady doyle, they were just simple charlatans taking advantage of traumatized people mourning loved ones. in houdini's youth, he and his wife had traveled the carnival circuit where he did an act pretending to commune with spirits, so he knew all the tricks of the trade AND he had lingering guilt over having done this, AND he was infuriated by this increasingly popular wave of con artists so he decided to assemble a team of anti-grifting grifters and together they went on the road exposing whichever spiritualists were preying on the locals.
houdini's best agent was a young woman named rose mackenberg, who donned disguises to visit the fraud de jour and then importantly sussed out what non-supernatural thing was actually happening, and then houdini would demonstrate the techniques onstage to packed audiences.
(if you want to know more, check out episode 175, "ghost racket crusade" of the podcast Criminal or read Tony Wolf's book The Real-Life Ghostbusting Adventures of Rose Mackenberg.)
but yeah, what really gets my goat is that all this happened and as far as i know, we still don't have like four seasons of a Leverage-style historical procedural about rose mackenberg and the rest of the crew having adventures in the 1920s as they unmask craven hucksters all over the united states. (what we do have, apparently, is one season of a show called "houdini and doyle" which is about the oddball friendship of two contrasting men solving sometimes-actually-supernatural mysteries, and whose premise does i think at the very least a real disservice to houdini's whole quest and also totally erases rose, who is arguably the most interesting part of this story to me.)
i am just steamed about this. steamed.
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comicaurora · 3 months
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I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that
Always.
I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.
Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.
The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."
The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.
I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.
Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.
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blondephenobarbitol · 5 months
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If there's one thing TGWDLM fans are gonna do, it's think about the implications. And the implications of the opening number are crazy.
So. We know that the show isn't completely chronological since the opening number takes place before the meteor hits. So that song is a sort of "flash forward" moment. But when you think about it, we don't really know how far in the future it takes place.
What we do know is that by the time it's happening, Emma is infected. She has a little solo in it singing about how Paul is pining over a barista
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And we know that this is meant to be an infected Emma specifically. Lauren had other characters in the show, if they wanted to avoid the Emma implication they would've just dressed her as one of those.
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So we know this is meant to be Emma.
And Emma isn't infected until the very end of the show. She's dragged off stage during the credits. So since she's infected in the opening number, we know the number takes place after the events of the show.
Another important detail is that Paul is infected before Emma. He's the one that passes it on to her.
So back to the opening number, Emma is infected. Which means by just following a simple timeline, Paul must also be infected. He should be singing and dancing, right?
But that's not what happens. Paul misses his entrance.
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If Paul is infected, then there's no reason he should be missing his entrance. Furthermore, if he's a part of a hive mind, there's no reason other members of the same hive mind shouldn't know where he is. They are literally all connected by one brain, and yet both Mr. Davidson and Bill express they have no clue where he went.
What I'm saying is that Paul is not infected. He was infected (again, we know that because Emma is infected and he was infected before her) but now he's not anymore.
I'm saying there's a way out of the hive, and Paul found it. That's the only explanation that makes sense given the facts of the situation. Sometime after the events of tgwdlm, Paul is able not only to break out the hive mind, but to hide from it.
And if he broke out, others could do the same. Maybe even Emma.
Edit because a countertheory has emerged: Yes it's possible that everyone is infected the entire time and the show itself is just Pokey replaying the events for the fun of it. But it seems unlikely to me. First of all, each of the Lords in Black has a distinct personality. They all are evil, but within that they seems to fall somewhere on a spectrum of "silly billy" to "prick." For example, Tinky is more of a silly billy. He toys with humans without much of a motive and more for just shits and giggles. But in every instance, Pokey's more on the extreme side of prick.
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He's one of the few with an actual motive behind what he does. In Yellowjacket, it's confirmed that Pokotho hates the sound of anyone's voice except for his own. The events of TGWDLM don't happen because Pokey is bored, they happen because he is executing a plan. So I don't think that he would just have them play out their little scenario just to entertain him, especially just one small island? I just feel like he'd be more focused on world domination.
If the theory is that all this is happening after Pokey's already taken over the whole world, no one was successful in stopping him, then yes it's plausible, but still weird. There are a strange amount of things in that show you just think an eldritch god wouldn't include.
Edit 2: New evidence has emerged???
The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is loosely based off of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Paul's last name is even a nod to the main character, Matthew. At the end of the film, Matthew survives, and continues living among the infected, pretending to be one of them. And wouldn't that be just such a fun little parallel...
Obviously it doesn't prove anything but the source material doesn't lie folks.
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krypticcafe · 1 year
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Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.
Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys
Love your writing so much ❤️
As Long as I'm Here
rating: mature
pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro
warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read
a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?
synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.
Part Two is now up!
"I'll be back before they know it."
Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.
No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.
It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.
By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.
Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.
Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!
Click!
Clickclickclick!
Shit.
Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.
Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.
"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."
The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.
Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.
"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"
"..."
"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"
"Affirmative."
"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"
"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.
"Ghost?"
Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.
"You alright, L.T?"
"Solid, just need a talk with Price."
"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.
"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."
Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.
He didn't want to wonder.
"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.
"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.
With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.
Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."
As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.
"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.
"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.
Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."
"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.
"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.
"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.
Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.
"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.
"We give them hell."
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Friends Don't | George Russell⁶³
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Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader
Summary: you go out to celebrate George's home race win, not even imagining what the night will bring
Warnings: smut, drunk driving, unprotected sex
A/N: you will maybe have to necessarily read part 1 and part 2 hehe. For the sake of the plot, we'll pretend some things already happened. I've spent the whole week writing this and only got it to all click together from the third attempt. Third time's a charm, right? But at least had a blast while editing, which is a rarity. I actually enjoy writing these 'chapters' and building this world sm <3
Sundays were a day for rest and relaxation. A day for sitting down with a good book and a cup of coffee. A day for cuddling up with a loved one and watching a movie. A day for taking some time for yourself; a day to reflect and recharge.
That was, of course, unless your best friend was George Russell. And that your Sundays didn't consist of spending most weekends a year at different race tracks around the world. Not all of them, but you tried to be there for him at least once or twice a month, as much as the opportunity allowed.
That afternoon, George took the checkered flag in Silverstone in P1 and now you were in your room, preparing for tonight's celebration. The victory party was going to be wild, and you knew it. You had seen how George celebrated previous wins, and tonight was going to be no different. Especially because it was his home race.
You took a deep breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. You had dressed to impress, wearing a sparkly blue dress that fit you perfectly. Finishing your look with a pair of strappy heels and a silver necklace, you couldn't help but think about how previous events with George brought you even closer together.
Your friendship kind of became more... intimate. No pun intended. Guess you were both afraid not to lose each other over the past experiences, and that deepened your bond whether either of you wanted to admit or not. Now your only fear was that your closeness wouldn't tear you apart.
A soft knock pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned around to see George standing at the door with a sheepish grin on his face. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, his hair tousled in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, his voice low and husky. "Ready to party?"
Never before have you paid any mind to the nicknames he called you, but now a thrill ran down your spine. The way he looked at you made you feel like the only person in the world.
"I am," you said, smiling at him.
As you stepped out of the door, George took your hand in his and led you to the car waiting outside. The drive to the club was short, but the anticipation was high. The party was in full swing when you arrived; loud music, flashing lights, and the smell of alcohol filled the air.
George led you to the VIP section where his friends and family were already celebrating. You saw his siblings and a few of his close racing buddies. You could hear their loud cheering as they saw George walk in with you and feel the envious glares of the other women in the room.
George handed you a glass of champagne and raised his own in a toast. "To the best damn team in the world," he said, looking at you and his friends.
Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses together. You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, feeling it go down smoothly. The night was young, and the energy in the room was electric.
The party kept going on as the night deepened, and the noise of the songs blasted through the room. Glasses were filled up with drinks constantly, making it more of an effort to ignore the effects of the booze. You found yourself on the dance floor, surrounded by George and his friends. The bass of the music throbbed in your chest, and you let yourself get lost in the rhythm.
Throughout the night, each person had a chance to take their turn with you on the dance floor, and eventually you were spinning around in George's arms. The heat of the club mixed with the buzz of the alcohol made your skin flush against his. You could feel his muscles flexing as he twirled you around, his hand firmly holding onto yours. The closer you danced, the more the tension between you grew.
For a moment, you forgot where you were and who was watching. You moved on him like it was just the two of you in the world, your hands moving over his body like never before, and hips swaying in perfect synchronicity. You were so close to him that you could feel his breath on your neck, and the scent of his cologne filled your senses. You felt yourself getting lost in him, and something stirred inside you.
And it seemed like George caught up on your odd behavior as the song faded away. He grabbed your arm and started leading you away from the dance floor until you reached a quiet corner. But your drunken mind wasn't understanding his intentions.
You threw yourself onto him and he had to secure your hips with his hands to stop you from slipping. You let out a hazy chuckle as you started grinding against him once more before he pushed you back against the wall.
"Stop it, that's not why I brought you here."
But you didn't listen. You pulled yourself even closer, letting your lips brush against his neck. "Then why did you bring me here?"
He squeezed his eyes shut, your breath tickling his skin. "The drinks have gone to your head. I brought you here to take a break and cool off a little." he avoided telling you that you were drunk and not acting like yourself, afraid to provoke any unnecessary argument between you two.
Still, you weren't paying any attention. You were too inebriated to realize that your behavior was a little out of character, and you certainly weren't considering the consequences of your actions. You clasped your hands around his shoulders and pressed yourself against him again.
George tried to keep a respectable distance between you, pushing his hip backwards as you pushed yours forward, fighting the urge to get too close. That got you into an interesting position; you were leaning against the wall in between his arms with your shoulders as he leaned into you with his upper body. Your hand naughtily ran down his side, poking him. You knew you probably shouldn't touch him, but you couldn't stop yourself. His muscles strained as he let out a shaky breath.
"You're getting awfully close to me," he murmured, unable to bring himself to look you in the eye. His fingers slowly slid from their grip on the wall.
"Then don't push me away," you said back.
His face was just inches away now, and your lips unconsciously moved closer. The atmosphere between you two was thick with anticipation, a feeling that you currently relished in. Your lips were only a breath away from his when he spoke.
"We can't." his eyes locked with yours.
"Why?" you asked breathily.
"Because we're best friends." his voice was barely a whisper.
He hoped the reason he gave you would remind you of everything you asked from him that first time. But he didn't tell you that he feared you'd regret it when you sobered up, and that it would be his fault for not stopping it.
"And?" in the state that you were, did he really think that would stop you? He couldn't have been more wrong. You wanted to push him to feel something. Anything. "Best friends can do a lot of things." you smirked.
He clenched his jaw, his eyes still on yours. "No, they can't." he gritted, shaking his head.
"You're right." you said, the alcohol clouding your judgment. "They can't do this." and your hips finally met his.
He swallowed hard, trying to stay level headed. "What am I going to do with you?" he said in desperation, his hands pressed flat on the wall behind you, trying their best not to touch you as they dangerously started slipping down.
You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart hammering under your palms as you glided them down his torso. "Remember how you said you can read my body language?"
"Yeah," he breathed, nodding his head.
"What is it telling you now?" you whispered against his lips.
"It's telling me we're going to be in big trouble if you don't stop this," he replied. "You have no idea what you're doing to me right now."
"Then don't fight it. Show me." you murmured.
He leaned in, his lips brushing yours. Your arms snaked around his neck and fingers twined through the hair at its nape, pulling him closer. You couldn't believe that you had done all those other things, but never kissed. And when ultimately his mouth closed on yours, it was like finally locating the elusive jigsaw piece on a seemingly ordinary Tuesday while tidying up your home that you thought had been lost forever. It made you almost not want to kiss anyone else ever again — almost, because deep down you knew you shouldn't have been doing this in the first place.
His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his head tilted to get a better angle. The kiss was soft, tentative, like both of you were very aware of what might happen. You pressed your mouth against his more firmly, tasting him. Parting your lips slightly, you felt the silky wetness of his tongue on yours. You bit his lower lip, letting out a deep moan when he groaned in response, hands that were in his hair tugging on the strands slightly. He groaned into your mouth again, pulling you even closer against him. You had no idea how long you were kissing, but it was definitely not enough.
The kiss broke, and you leaned your face against his neck, panting heavily. He glanced down at you, his lips so close to yours that if you had merely lifted your head, they'd be touching again. The warmth emanating from your body made him want to do things he knew he shouldn’t. He placed his forehead against yours, trying desperately to get control of himself.
"We should get back." he said between breaths. Your head was spinning from the alcohol and his scent and the magical kiss, it took you a moment to realize you were no longer kissing him. You opened your eyes and met with him.
"We should, before they realize we're missing." you nodded. He frowned, but his eyes were smiling. He was relieved, but he was also worried for you and what tomorrow might bring when you sobered up.
"Lets go," he said, turning around, but kept an arm around your waist so as to not let you get lost. You looped one arm around his neck, holding onto his shoulder, and gently hit his other shoulder with your head.
The night was still young and the party was still going. Music was playing, people were dancing, and laughter filled the room. Your friends cheered when they saw you two come in together, but neither of you paid any attention to them; all that mattered was that you were here, with him. Guys grabbed drinks for the both of you from different parts of the room and put it in your hands.
You found a spot on the couch and George sat next to you, his arm around your waist protectively. The conversations flowed easily between you two, and soon enough you both forgot what had happened earlier as you joined the rest of the group in drinking, singing along with music and laughing.
He later found you on the dance floor swaying around completely out of rhythm with a drink in your hand. Your face lit up when you saw him.
"There you are, my champion." you leaned into him, dropping your head onto his shoulder.
"I won the race, not the championship.” he chuckled.
“Mm, don’t care. To me you are the champion.” you slurred, pouting.
“Hey, is everything alright?" he asked, supporting you.
"Mmhmm." you mumbled. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine." you could hear the frown on his face. "You're drunk." he spat as he attempted to take away the half empty glass from your grasp.
"I'm not." you said, feeling yourself lose your balance a little as you swayed back and forth. He put his arm around you to help you balance.
"Yes, you are. I should've taken you home the first time around." he sighed, somehow not surprised you managed to get even drunker. You were both intoxicated for that matter, it's just that George knew how to hold his liquor. And he looked to never go over his limit in case something like this happened.
"No." you tried to pull away from him.
"I'm taking you home." he tightened his grip around you, leading you out of the party. You mumbled something in response, not quite sure what you were saying.
He helped you into his car and buckled your seat belt for you, before getting in himself. He drove slowly, carefully navigating the roads while you were almost passed out in his passenger seat. Every now and then he'd take a hand off the wheel to reach over and brush your hair away from your face or wipe away a stray tear from your cheek if one escaped your eye. As he turned into your street and parked the car, your eyes fluttered open.
"Um, could you walk me to the door?" you asked.
"I was planning on it," he said, unbuckling his seat belt.
Both of your arms wrapped around his left one, holding on for support, as he walked you to your apartment. Your little nap helped clear the haze from your head, but you were still tipsy. When you reached the entrance of your flat, you propped yourself against the door and blinked up at him.
"Do you want to come inside?" inviting your best friend into your home have never before seemed more dangerous and George should've known better than to say yes.
"Do you want anything to drink?" you asked to break an awkward silence that fell among you the moment he shut the door.
Before even waiting for his answer, you made your way towards the kitchen, but he extended his arm and grabbed your waist, preventing you from moving further.
"I think we both had enough to drink tonight," he said.
"Then what do you want to do?" you whispered.
"I want to claim my prize." he must have had a few more drinks than usual at the club to summon up the courage for that sentiment.
You could feel your heart racing in your chest, the alcohol still fogging your mind but not enough to miss the implication of his words. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his intense gaze. His hand still rested on your waist, his fingers tracing small circles over the fabric of your dress.
"Is that what I am, a prize?"
"No, no." he said quickly, his eyes softening. "You're so much more than that, you know that." his hand cupped the side of your face. "When I saw you looking up at me on the podium today, I realized I couldn't have done it without you. You were the one who had been cheering me on from the sidelines all this time. You've been there for me when no one else was." he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You've been my lucky charm all these years and I want to show you how much you mean to me."
The way he was looking at you made your chest heave with a mixture of emotions. You were both under the influence, and you knew this was not the best time to make decisions, but you couldn't resist him. You leaned in and attached your lips together again, only this time with more passion, more desire. You could feel his hands running through your hair as he kissed you back, his tongue playing with yours, his body pressing against yours.
He pulled away, looking at you with a hunger you had never seen before. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
You nodded, unable to say anything. His lips crashed onto yours, hungrily claiming your mouth as his own. Your body responded to his touch, your hands roaming over his chest and tangling in his hair. He lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.
He laid you down gently on the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours. Climbing on top of you, his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. You moaned softly, your hands gripping tightly onto his muscular back. He pulled his lips away from you, looking into your eyes.
"Are you sure?" he asked again.
You nodded, reaching up and pulling him back down. He gently kissed you again and you responded in kind, but he pulled away again.
"I'll stop if you tell me to." he whispered. "I don't want to do this unless you want to." 
"I want to." you murmured. The alcohol may have distorted your judgment, but it surely helped your courage.
"Are you sure?" he asked a third time. You laughed softly, trying to push him off. He had you pinned to the mattress, still pressing you down.
"Yes, I'm sure." you said, no longer laughing.
That was all he needed to hear. He kissed you hard, his fingers lightly tracing over the fabric of your dress. He ran his hands underneath, gently resting them on your ribs, and pulled your dress upwards. You lifted your hands above your head, freeing him of the task of removing your dress as you squiggled out of it and freed yourself from the restriction that was your dress.
He kissed you again, letting his hands run over your bare skin. His lips kissed down your throat and chest, his hands undoing your bra. He pulled it away and tossed it aside, taking in the sight of you.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he said. You blushed, and he smiled. His lips traveled down your leg, gently caressing the outside of your thigh. "But I'm a little jealous, you know?" his lips traveled back up, his tongue tracing over the slope of your breast and hands kneading them softly. "You got to taste me, and I..."
He kissed his way down your body, his hands going over every inch of exposed skin, reminding you how skillfully he handled you that very first time. He reached your inner thigh and slid his hand underneath your underwear. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his fingers brush against you before a long finger slid inside you. You moaned loudly, spreading your legs apart for him. He smiled against your neck, his teeth taking in your skin, his tongue leaving a trail of fire behind.
His finger slowly moved inside you, circling you before sliding in and out. His hand pulled your underwear down, you kicking them off to the side. His mouth moved down your figure, hovering over your breasts. He teased you for a moment, blowing against your nipples before drawing the tip of his tongue over one. He did the same with the other, his fingers never ceasing to move. His kisses continued further down, over your stomach until they reached your mound.
"Can I?" he asked, peeking at you.
"Please..." you tried to hide the shake in your voice.
His tongue slid between your lips, gently licking you. You could feel his breath, hot and heavy against your sensitive skin. He teased you, his tongue circling your clit before sliding inside you. His tongue flicked over your clit, his hands holding your thighs apart. You spread your legs even wider, your body arching up to him. He leaned in, gently sucking on your clit and you moaned loudly, his tongue moving faster. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against his face.
You were nearing your end, your moans growing louder with every movement of his tongue. You could feel his lips smile against your skin, enjoying the sounds you were making. You cried out, your body tensing as you came, shaking against him. He pulled away, slowly kissing his way up to the top again. He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, not hurrying you up as you sucked in his bottom lip, squeezing out your own juices.
"Taking that trophy is the second best thing that has ever happened to me." he whispered. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, your hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. "The first, of course, being you. You're my greatest reward." he continued as you trailed kisses down his neck, removing the shirt off his shoulders.
"Stop talking, George."
"Sorry," he whispered as he closed his eyes, surrendering above you.
You kissed his chest, your nails raking up and down his sides, feeling his muscles tense. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and could sense the urgency in his touch. His hardness pressed against you, begging to be liberated. You pulled away from him, reaching for his belt buckle and his eyes shot open, hands reaching for yours.
"Are you sure?" he asked again. He knew if you go any further there would be no going back and some irreversible things would be done.
"Are you sure?" you asked back, smiling mischievously. "I thought this is what you wanted." your nail dangerously circled around his lower abdomen, causing his breath to hitch with every word he spoke.
"I-I do. I'm just making sure you're not doing it just because I want it." you could tell he was really struggling to hold himself back.
"I think we've already established that..." you whispered against his lips and prompted your body more to his.
"Okay," his hand moved away from yours, and you undid his belt.
His pants fell around his feet and he kicked them off. His boxers were the last thing left, and you reached for them, slowly pulling them down. His hand held the back of your head as he kissed you, his tongue twirling around yours. You moved to pull away but he held on tighter.
His boxers hit the floor and you looked up at him, his hands resting on your frame. Gently taking your hand, he placed it on his dick. You gasped, feeling it grow even more underneath your touch. He pulled away, his lips planting kisses down your neck as his hand guided yours up and down his length. You felt him shiver as you grazed the tip with your nails, his breath hitching. He removed his hand, and your eyes shot open when you felt his tip brush against your entrance.
He teased you, running it up and down your slit. You threw your head back in pleasure, your back arching against him. The more he prolonged what you needed the most, the more your neediness grew. You tried to guide him inside you but he resisted, placing a finger on your lips instead. He dragged it over them before he made you suck on it, his eyes never leaving your face as he blew a stream of air out. Your eyes widened when you felt his head brush against you again, making you gasp audibly, his name falling from your lips.
"Please," you remembered what he told you the first time he had you in his arms like this. "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please..." you chanted over and over again.
"Fuck," he hissed under his breath. Hearing you beg for him made his head spin again. It was like you'd put him under a spell every time you'd utter that word and he'd not be able to deny you anything. Not that he ever wanted.
He slowly pushed inside of you, stopping at every inch to wait for you to adjust. "Are you okay?" he whispered.
You nodded, your breath hitching as he began to move again. He kissed you, your nails digging into his back as he stretched you more. He was so gentle, it was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. This was not the normal rough, lustful sex. This was the man who loved the sight of you, the sounds of your pleasure. This was the man who wanted to make love to you, to show you what true pleasure was.
Your fingers sank into his back again, and he responded by thrusting into you harder, your moans getting louder. His lips traveled down your chest, his tongue flicking a nipple as he pushed into you again.
"Oh, god." you moaned, George's name falling from your mouth repeatedly. Your hands dug into the sheets as his thrusts grew harder, deeper.
"You feel so good... so damn good," he kissed your skin. "Making me feel like I don't ever want to take anybody else again."
"Don't stop, please, whatever it is that you're doing, please, just don't stop." you cried, twining your legs around him to press him deeper.
He moaned in pleasure when you did, his hands tightening their grip around you. His breathing grew heavier and faster, your bodies reacting to each other. He was so close, and he could feel you held right on the edge.
You cried out his name, your form shuddering under him. He had no intention of stopping, and he continued his movements as you kept shaking, your voice loud enough to wake up the whole apartment complex.
"You, George, only you…" you whispered into his ear as you were coming down.
You felt his whole build shake, his cock pulsing inside of you, but it wasn't enough. You wanted to hear him as he climaxed. You wanted to hear the sounds he made, the sweetest song in the world.
"George… George…" you panted, your breathing coming out in jagged breaths.
He cursed, as his body trembled with pleasure. His hands tightened around you, pulling you closer as he came. You buried your face in his neck, your fingers playing with his hair. He kissed you, holding you close to him. He wanted to stay inside you forever, to feel the sight of your face as he pleased you. You did that to him. You were the one making him see another reality where only he and you existed.
But he pulled away, your eyes searching for his as you slowly came back to reality. He kissed you again, his lips landing on yours.
"That was amazing… you were amazing…" he whispered, stroking your face gently.
"So were you." you said back, playing with the bangs that fell over his forehead.
He rested his head on your chest, finding a comfortable spot, your hands moving into his hair.
"Are you going to stay?" you whispered, uncertain.
"Only if you want me to."
"Always."
He hugged you tightly and rolled over so that you were now on top of him. His fingers softly ran along your back as your body let go and fully relaxed. The peaceful sound of your heartbeats and his breath seemed to take over the room. You drew near to him, feeling the up and down movements of his chest gently rock you to sleep, matters of your friendship left for tomorrow's morning news.
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russellsppttemplates · 2 months
Text
Did you lose her? (Lando Norris)
Maybe it was never a change of heart
Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty with a happy ending, and it's also the first piece that's I've written that's based of a song, Stick Season by Noah Kahan. I hope I did it well enough! 🫶 also, it has smut, and if you have followed me for long enough, you know I don't usually do it, but I think it's these AUS pics 😮‍💨😌🥵
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: curse words, previous break-up and themes related to that, smut (mentions protected sex, hormonal contraception, praise kink if you squint at the whole thing)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed
Doing the food shop was one one of the mundane adult life tasks you actually enjoyed doing. You had some music on your ears and walked along the supermarket, making sure you weren't buying too much outside of your list.
Tomato sauce and two packets of the instant noodles for when you didn't feel like cooking or were in a rush, you told yourself as you browsed through the aisle.
The scent should've been the first give away, but lots of people wore the same perfume. However, not all of them had the characteristic underlying scent that to this day meant comfort.
"Y/N! I wasn't expecting to see you", Cisca said as he placed the item she took from the shelf on her shopping cart, "goodness, how long has it been since we've seen you?", she smiled sadly.
Five months, you thought. One hundred and fifty two days since you and Lando parted ways and you shipped your belongings back to England. You told yourselves it was amicable and that you'd still be there for eachother, but you had published your first article and he had started his season without the other by your side.
"It's been some time, yes. How are you?", you wondered, "we've been good, you know how busy it gets around this time of year. But Savannah had their little girl, Athena - let me show you a picture!", she scrambled her phone out of her bag.
"Oh, how cute!", you cooed at the little baby bundled up in a pink blanket, "Mila is such a good big sister, too!", she showed you a picture with the two of them in Lando's lap, the baby tucked safely into his chest as Mila seemed to be showing him one of her toys.
Gulping and swallowing the tears that threatened to fall, you looked up at her and smiled, "I'm glad everyone is doing good - send Oliver and Sav my congratulations!", you nodded, hoping she would get the hint.
Storing her phone back in her bag, Cisca smiled, resembling the smile that you woke up many times to, "I will, darling. All the best for you, hopefully we'll see you around", she said before rubbing your back soothingly.
You found an aisle without people and allowed yourself to cry. Just for a little bit before you had to go back to pretend it didn't hurt still.
And I'll dream each night of some version of you
That I might not have, but I did not lose
"I'm on the podium, dad!", Lando yelled as he hugged Adam, cackling in excitement as he hugged the team who were there to celebrate and congratulate him.
"Congratulations, baby!", you yelled as Lando turned to hug you, arms going around your waist and pulling you as close as the safety barriers allowed, clicking open his visor so you could look at your favourite eyes in the world.
"I love you so much, Y/N!", he yelled back, winking before he went up to get weighed in.
On the podium, he looked at you like you two were the only people there, smiling up at him as he blew you a kiss.
"I knew you'd be on the podium, baby", you smiled once you were back in his driver's room, "How are you so sure?", he wondered, kissing your neck soflty.
"The development they're doing, your talent, Lando, I knew it was going to happen, and from now on, you better get used to being up there every single weekend", you smirked, kissing from his throat to his jaw and up to his lips, humming when his tongue poked at your lips begging for entrance.
It was hot and he was sweaty. His phone read 4:30am as he stood up against the headboard, finding the light switch so he wouldn't walk around the hotel room in complete darkness.
It was the third night in a row you showed up in his dreams. The first time, it was subtle as he dreamed about flying on plane and he was sure you were there. The past two, however, had you in there as a main character. He dreamed of walking in the paddock with you, of having you there to comfort him and knock some sense in his head when his P4 in qualifying didn't feel enough, and now you were celebrating his podium.
It's weird how his brain went there, how his arms and face felt like they had truly been holding you despite not having done it in months. Muscle memory betrayed, he thought as he poured himself some water and took little sips of it as he looked outside the window.
Fuck, he missed you. And not just for these big moments where he was on a high and wanted to share it with you or when he was do low you were the only person that could make him crawl out of the dark hole he snuck himself into. It's when he's making his bed back home and the other pillow remains fluffed because no one's using it, it's the mug you left behind and he doesn't have the courage to send back to you or give to someone else or when he sees something that reminds him of you and he gets it, hoping one day he can get them to you.
You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back
Lando sighed again as the call went to voicemail. It was the third time it happened in the last couple of hours. It was media day at Suzuka and they were having lunch.
"You know it's 3 am back in England, right?", Oscar asked bluntly, "when we were having breakfast, sure, you might have got hold of her if she was doing a late night, but I think you should wait", he reasoned.
Oscar was right. He didn't want to risk it waking you up even though he was sure your phone was on silent since you loved your sleep dearly.
"I hate this", Lando muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Oscar was aware of some of what had happened between Lando and you. The start of the season always came with new gossip and this one's was filled with rumours and conspiracy theories about the paddock's sweetheart and young couple.
Lando started driving in Formula One when he was nineteen, so they had seen his grow up through the years along with your relationship. At first, you were pinned down as his sister, then a best friend when they realised you didn't share genetics, and then you were his girlfriend. The lingering touches and big smiles they caught never rushed you to admit your feelings or put a label on your relationship, but everyone was there when you walked hand in hand on the paddock and confirmed the suspicions they had for months. Lando Norris and his best friend were in love and they all felt like proud parents as they watched you support him unconditionally every time you could.
"Did you lose her?", Oscar quesioned his team-mate as he picked on the food on his plate.
"I don't have her with me, have I?", Lando snapped and regretted it almost immediately.
Oscar put it down to tiredness, jet lag and the fact that he seemed a bit lost on how he was navigating the situation, "What I'm saying is, did you lose her? Did you do your absolute best to keep her with you?", he said sternly, "Used all of the options and possibilities and it still didn't work out? You don't lose someone because things fell apart in a stressful situation", he reasoned.
He was young but not dumb, truly.
"Feels like I have though", Lando added.
"What I'm saying is if you really want to know how she is and if you want to have an honest conversation with her, you have to make an effort. Not just calling and asking your mother to see if she's spotted her lately, or your sisters to check in your circle of friends whether or not she has moved on", Oscar lectured.
"Do you think I can do it? Do I have what it takes?", Lando confessed his doubts out loud. One of the reasons he had yet to act on it was because having a second chance wasn't for everyone and he needed to make sure it went perfect. You deserved that.
"You're a Formula One driver with deep pockets and a massive heart that still belongs to someone. What can't you do?", the young australian driver mused before he got up, taking his plate with him and leaving Lando pondering about what to do next.
I hope this pain's just passin' through
You sang loudly as you dusted the living room shelves, windows open to let the autumn air in. While cleaning wasn't your favourite thing to do, you had woken up with an urge to clean and given that it happened very rarely, you were taking it in stride.
So far, you found a receipt of a pair of jeans you were meant to return but gave your friends instead, a concert ticket and a bigger amount of dust than you'd like to admit. When you pulled the fabric strap, though, you knew that you wouldn't want to get rid of it. The lanyard belonged to one of the passes for one of the Grand Prix weekend you went to see Lando. Inspecting it closer, you realised it was his second home race, the Polaroid picture attached to it confirming the date.
It started with you joking about the fact that the pass was not the prettiest, so Lando hunted down the paddock to find a Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of you two and pinching a hole on it so you could carry it around and cover the supposed ugly pass. The photo was still intact, just a little dusty as you wiped it with your sleeve. Lando was kissing your cheek as you smiled impossibly big, eyes squinty and smile beaming because of the guy whose lips were on your cheek.
A single teardrop fell on the plastic covered paper before a few more followed as you sat down, looking at what you had once been and how things were right now. The missed calls on your phone led you to believe that maybe he still felt something too, but the potential heartache of trying again and it not working would hurt more than it already does.
The vibration from watch caught your attention as you read the two notifications. One from your e-mail with Qatar Airways written in bold and a text from Lando.
Qatar Airways
Thank you for choosing to fly with Qatar Airways!
Lando ✨️
I need you here with me, Y/N, please
I made the flight reservation for you, they will hold the ticket until two hours before the flight leaves, you just have to confirm with your passport ❤️
You promised me that I was more than all the miles combined
Heathrow Airport, 7th October 2023, 6:30 am.
You couldn't back out now, that would mean Lando would lose the money he spent to get you here in the first place. It wasn't by all means quiet, but your thoughts were loud enough.
You shouldn't be here. Why were you here? Why did you accept this, Y/N?
Because Lando needed you there.
Simple as that.
Boarding the flight, you smiled and thanked as the flight attendant pointed to the area where your seat was and where you would spend the next six hours and a half.
"I'm sorry, our seats are by the window", a woman in her thirties said as she bounced a little girl on her hip, making you get up so she could get to it, "thank you", she smiled, sitting down and buclking herself and her daughter to her body.
"Lyla, you can't go pulling on other people's clothes - I'm so sorry", she apoligised as the little girl pulled on your shirt's detailed button buckle.
"No worries, I know how restless they can get. You do the best for your baby. You're only responsible for yours and her emotions, no one else's on this plane", you offered her, remembering the times you would take flights and fully grown adults would go up to a stressed parent to let them know they could hear their crying child as if the parents themselves didn't know.
"My husband is somewhere in there, too", she chuckled, sometimes I feel I'm responsible for his too - accountantable in a way at least", she chuckled.
"You weren't able to sit together?", you wondered.
"My husband planned the weekend to go watch a race and come back, but we found some holiday days and we decided on a spontaneous trip. This was the only seat left they had", she explained.
"I can change seats if you want", you offered, "I'm flying on my own and I'll get to the destination all the same", you giggled.
"You wouldn't mind?", she asked, relief settling over her as she tried to see her husband, waving at him to come closer as you touched the button to call the flight attendant as the passengers were all sat down on your section.
"This lovely young woman says she doesn't mind switching seats with you", she said to her husband as you spoke to the flight attendant.
"No, there's no problem with that if you both agree", the flight attendant smiled as you got up, ignoring the frown on the man next to you who had to get up so you could swap, "bye bye, Lyla!", you waved at the little girl before her parents thanked you once again.
Finding your new seat, you put your bag under the seat in front and sat down, excusing yourself to the older couple next to you, "I just swapped seats with the gentleman that was here, I'm sorry", you smiled, hoping they wouldn't be too mad.
"Oh, he was able to sit with his family after all - I told you, Harold!", the lady winked at her husband, "I'm Francesca, you can call me Fran", she said sweetly.
Despite the early flight, they both seemed to be full of energy as they started telling you stories of their life and family, showing pictures of their kids and grandkids.
"One day you'll have all of that with the person you love, darling - if that's something you want, of course!", Harold peeped in, "our granddaughters are always telling me not everyone wants the same things!", he chuckled softly.
"It's okay - I would like that, actually", you smiled sadly as Francesca landed her hand on top of yours.
"Why does that sound like a confused heart, dear?", she commented, reading you like a book. The flight was closer to be three quarters of the way to the destination, so you still had some time to kill.
"A little bit; I'm actually flying over to see the person who still has this confused heart", you mumbled.
"Your eyes sparkle when you talk about him, dear - something tells me he's going to 'unconfuse' your heart", she smiled, "tell me about him".
"Godness", you chuckled, "He's kind, respectful, honest, goofy, cute, charming, loving, he's all that is good. We just lost our way, I think", you recalled, smiling at the thought of him.
"You'll find it back, dear. Life has mysterious ways but it has the right ways - I like to believe it does, anyway", the older lady assured, squeezing your hand in hers.
Waving goodbye to Harold and Francesca when you found the taxi bay, you requested to be taken to the paddock.
When you got there, you payed the kind driver before he helped you take your suitcase from the boot, "enjoy the race!", he smiled.
You were thankful all eyes were on the track already, making you cross the whole paddock and step into McLaren's hospitality quickly after collecting your pass.
"Y/N!", Zak said as he was the first person to spot you, "you're here, you came!", he smiled, hugging you tightly, "we're all very happy you're here", he said as he asked one of the team members to store your suitcases somewhere appropriate before leading you to the corridor to the drivers' rooms.
"Lando is inside, and the race starts in less than ninety minutes, so you won't talk all you need to, but it's a good start", he said, knocking on the door before he left.
When Lando heard the knock, he hoped it was you. Sophie and Oscar were great people, but in the last hour, everytime he opened the door, theirs were the faces he saw instead of yours.
"Y/N", he welcomed you into his room before closing the door, "I hope it's okay that I flew you here, thank you for coming", he said as he hesitated on giving you a hug.
Taking a step forward, you laced your arms around his waist as he did the same around your shoulders, inhaling eachother's scent and feeling like a weight was lifted off both of you, "I missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered before you pulled apart.
"It's not the first time you've done that for me", you fumbled with your hands, "although I was very surprised. We haven't spoken to eachother in some time, Lando", you sterned.
"Not because I didn't try", he bit bat with an ironic chuckle, "Why did you come here then?", he defended, taking your words as immediate offense and not taking a second to process them properly.
"Because even though we're not together anymore, you matter to me. I care about you! I'm not sure what monster you depict me as or that you imagine I've turned into, but I wouldn't dream of wishing you misery! If you call me and tell me you need me here, I'll be here because I care about you!", you snapped, "you have no idea how many times I wanted to give up and cancel this! Why am I here, Lando?", you asked.
You didn't expect him to react that way, not that you had a much better reaction anyway.
"Fuck, this is not how we do this", you took a deep breath as Lando held your hands in his, mimicking your movements as he did the same. Three long deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that", Lando began, hands laced on yours still, "thank you for bring here, I needed you here because there's no one else in the world that can make me feel comfortable like you do, and I need that. I need to feel like myself - and I know it's a selfish ask to make you get up and drop your things to be here with me but-", you interrupted him.
"It's okay, Lando, you're okay", you cooed, searching for his eyes and hoping you'd get the message your mouth was failing to say through.
You pulled him to sit in front of you in the massage table, "I've been seeing all the podiums you've been getting - the team have done such a great job developing, and your talent and skills have brought it to the podium", you tried a lighter subject even though you were 99% sure of his worries.
"Oscar still qualified above me", he began, "He's a rookie and he's managed to do in months what I haven't done in five years", he allowed himself to express his feelings. After all, it was you.
"Oscar is not driving a tractor like you were", you shrugged your shoulders as Lando laughed.
"For someone who was invited last minute and got a pretty good pass, I'm not sure how the team would feel about you talking like that", he smirked, hand finding your own as he rubbed his thumb on your palm.
"I'm only telling the truth", you smiled, "and I mean it. I know how this sport works, but you shouldn't compare yourself to your teammate when the circumstances are so different", you mused.
"The team have been great and they still haven't said anything", he reasoned.
"Of course they haven't because it's something that happens, Lando. I was watching the highlights and so many drivers went over the limits because that's how this track goes", you stated, "there's only so much you can do and you shouldn't put all that pressure on yourself", you tsked, "I know you do, but you shouldn't", you smiled.
"You always know what to say, don't you?", he chuckled, "I have an inkling on how this here works", you winked and tapped his head with your free hand.
A knock on the door interrupted your moment as Jon opened it right after, "Lando, we need to start prepping for the sprint", he said before he turned to you, "Hi Y/N, good to have you back!", he smiled before he let you finish what you were doing.
"I should go, then", Lando trailed off, "are you going to browse around the paddock? I bet a lot of people miss you and your face here", he nudged.
"I came here for you, I don't care about anyone else", you smiled as you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek for a few seconds, smiling against his warm skin before grabbing your bag and walking out.
Most of the team must've known you were coming since not many of them took a second look whenever you greeted them or entered a different area.
One of the media girls got you a set of headphones as she stood next to you, Oscar and Lando getting ready to go to the track.
His routine hadn't changed as your eyes followed him while he got dressed appropriately and safely for the race.
Before Lando put his helmet on he looked back at you, winking and smiling when you winked back.
When the gap wasn't closing in, you knew Lando would be disappointed with P3, not because of the place itself but because his team-mate had done better.
As you moved to a better spot to watch the interviews on the media pen, your heart felt like someone was using it like a trampoline, jumping and stomping on it as Lando spoke about himself with such a negative tone.
Surely, the interviewers were fishing for answers with biased questions and his mind took him there.
As you waited for him to be back to the hospitality, you got yourself something to eat, realising you hadn't done it since the plane.
Lando was beating himself up and he couldn't shake the bad mood he was in even when he thought you had travelled to see him and be there for him.
As Sophie gave him a quick debrief about his interviews, he stepped into his driver's room so he could have a quick shower and then head to the team debrief.
"It wouldn't hurt going up to her, you know?", Jon told him, ready to take any harsh words first if it meant you didn't hear them.
"I know it wouldn't, I'm just going to eat something and then I'll join the debrief with the rest of the team", Lando mumbled as he walked up to you.
"Hey", he said sitting down on the sofa next to you.
"Hey, Lando", you said, testing the waters and approaching his body until you rested your head on his shoulder.
"You are going to get your win, Lando. It's going to be an amazing weekend and it's going to be your first. Surely important, but you'll be a race winner and go on to the next race", you said as he seemed to be unsure of the tone you were going for, "as that will be a big moment in a long career - because it won't define it - this doesn't define you either, as a person and as a driver", you concluded, hoping to bring a little bit of his confidence and self-esteem back up a little.
"And you're going to be there?", he asked. He was feeling like shit and needed to know. It wasn't fair, but he needed to know.
"I can't make promises like that, not before we speak properly", you remarked, looking up at him from where you were, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours, "do you want me to stay here or should I go back to the hotel?", you asked. It wasn't the right time or the right place to talk about it.
"Could you stay here, please?", he said as you took your book out of your bag, knowing it would run long and you'd need some entertainment as there was only so much catching up you could do with the team when they're suppose to be working.
"I will, then", you said as Lando took the plunge and kissed the top of your head.
Ten chapters and a tea later, Lando tapped your shoulders, "I'm finished, are we ready to go?", he asked as you got up accepting his hand to hold as you walked out of the hospitality, grabbing your suitcase from the storage room and bidding goodbye to the team.
"I couldn't get a separate room for you, but the room I'm staying in has this living room area and the sofa opens into a bed, they said it's really comfy and they also left an extra mattress topper and some blankets", Lando said as he drove, "in case you didn't feel comfortable, I- I just want you to feel comfortable", he emphasised nervously.
"Lando, you don't need to walk on eggshells, okay? It's me", you smiled reassuringly as he stole a quick look at you before focusing back on the road, "sounds like a nice solution, fine by me", you reassured him.
Leaving the car to the valet and taking the lift up with you, you stayed silent until you were inside the hotel room, "That's the bedroom area, bathroom's here - and it has a double sink - and then the living room", Lando patted the extra linen folded on the sofa.
"Thank you", you assented, "would you like to talk now or is it bad timing? You must be tired f,-".
"Yes, please", he agreed immediately sitting on the sofa and making room for you to sit in front of him.
"I don't know where to begin", you observed after a while, "it's been tough being without you - I have been so used to having you there for me and to be there for you that nothing quite has the same meaning. I can live without you - barely, but I can -, that's not the question, but I don't want to", you manifested.
"We ended things because we had to, and it did us both well to see from another perspective - that's what it felt for me anyway -, but I want to be with you and to have you with me", he elaborated, "I don't care if you have to spend more time back home because of the distance, or come with me to the races because of the distance, too, I-".
"It was never about the distance, Lando", you interjected. You both used that excuse way too many times but deep down you knew it wasn't because of it.
"We'll work it out then", Lando suggested, "we'll work on us because knowing eachother doesn't mean we don't have to put ourselves first and keep investing on our relationship. I value you so much Y/N, I love you so much and I want to do this right", he whispered as if he spoke any louder would disturb the moment.
"I love you too", you smiled as you laced your hands together, "we'll work on it, together".
It was already late so Lando offered you the bathroom so you could shower and do your night routine first and then make the sofa bed to your liking while he did his night routine.
"Good night, angel", Lando said after you hugged him goodnight, kissing the top of your head before letting you lie down first since the light on his bedside table was the only one illuminating the room.
After you cocooned yourself in the sheets comfortably, you spoke up, "Lando, I'm sorry I didn't answer back sooner", you apoligised.
"It's okay, love, you don't have to worry about that", he cooed softly and you could hear the smile on his voice.
"I know it's not, but thank you for making me feel better about it, goodnight", you smiled, feeling hopeful about it.
The next morning, you were woken up by the noise coming from the bathroom, assuming Lando was showering inside as you stretched, surprised at how well you slept. Maybe the bedding was genuinely nice, the sofa bed wasn't bad to begin with, especially considering the hotel you were staying in, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in months, you fell asleep knowing the person who your heart belonged to was more than happy to let you keep his, too, and he was in the same space as you.
"Good morning, beautiful", Lando smiled as he noticed you were awake already, "did you sleep well?".
"Good morning, Lan", you yawned, "I did, really well, actually. At what time do we have to be at the track?", you wondered. It was a night race, so the call up was later than usual.
"I'm leaving after breakfast, but you can stay and head there later if you want", Lando declared as you walked up to him, "I just need to freshen up and get ready", you smiled, kissing his cheek and heading for the bathroom with your clothes.
As soon as you arrived at the track, you took one of the back entrances as you knew Lando would spend some time with the fans and other drivers he bumped into, finding a nice spot on the lounge and going back to your book.
"I'm going to start race prep", Lando stopped by you in the lounge after a quick meeting, "I probably won't talk to you much until afterwards so I just came to check on you", he reasoned.
Getting up, you moved to one of the corridors, leaning up to kiss his forehead softly, "Good luck, my love, you're going to do so well, I know it", you smiled against his skin.
"I have my lucky charm with me", he smirked, kissing the top of your head before he got back to Jon.
From P10 to P3, Lando had an eventful race. Fortunately, and compared to the rest of the grid, he seemed to be doing fairly well as he stood in front of AC Units while replenishing the water he lost during the fifty-seven laps.
"I'm so proud of you!", you cooed as he got back to the garage, shaking hands with all the mechanics and engineers before he got to you. You hugged his sweaty body, not caring about it as long as you felt his close to you.
"They're postponing race debrief so I'm going to shower quickly and then we can get going, beautiful", he smiled, kissing a spot on your cheek very close to your lips.
Smiling giddily, you went to the bar area to get a bottle of water for yourself as Sophie walked last you, "seems like we will be seeing a lot more of you again soon - maybe Zak can also hire you as our lucky charm!", she winked as you shook your head, blood rushing to your cheeks at her words.
Back in the hotel room, it was your turn to freshen up and get ready to sleep. The spirits were high and you were feeling like the wait time was over. Your heart was healed enough as you sat on Lando's bed, "I'm so proud of you, you had an incredible drive tonight", you smiled as you moved closer to him as he sat on the edge, back against the headboard and one leg on the mattress while the other hung beside the mattress.
"It felt so good", he smiled, "thank you for supporting me", he cupped your cheek as he silently asked you for permission to kiss your lips. Lando couldn't waste anymore time as he pulled you to him so he could kiss you properly, your legs on either side of his as you straddled him, revelling in the feeling of being in eachother's hold as your hands played with his hair while his held your waist.
"As much as I'd love to continue this, I'm exhausted, baby", he rubbed your thighs, "it's okay, my love, I wasn't thinking of letting you do anything else anyway", you smiled, kissing his nose softly before you got on one knee so you could flop to the side and land on the mattress.
"Sleep here, yes?", he mused and you nodded, undoing the bed and getting under the sheets, his arm holding you to him and making sure he didn't let go.
As if you'd leave anyway.
4.30am and Lando woke up again. This time however, the sight he longed to see was right there. The you he had and had got back, cuddled up to his chest as your leg was hoisted up on top of his own and very close to his aching cock.
As he tried to change the angle so every time you moved, your smooth skin wouldn't pratically tease him, you stirred in your sleep, eyes opening as he tried to adjust your knee.
"Is everything alright, baby? Am I hurting you?", you said as you recoiled from his body.
"No, angel, no!", he quickly guaranteed, "I'm sorry I woke you up, it's just that your knee was very close to me and I was having a hard time dealing with it".
"A hard time indeed", you snickered as you felt his hard-on strained on his Calvin Kleins. Dating after being friends for so long brought an easy joking side to your relationship so much easier and funnier as you wouldn't get offended with most of what you said to eachother, "need help with that?", you smirked.
"But I wanted to treat you", Lando pouted, "Can I, gorgeous girl?", he whispered as he kissed up your neck once you whispered "yes", hands roaming on your body as he pulled up your nightshirt, finding your nipples and twisting them slightly to work your body up the way you did with his.
Your sighs and whimpers let him know he was doing a good job as undressed your torso, littering small kissed from your throat to your tummy, "you're so gorgeous, Y/N, I can't believe you're mine", he said as he blew a raspberry on your tummy, earning giggles from you before he licked up a stripe near your panties line.
"You know how much I like it when you wear your pink panties", he voiced as he touched you over the cotton fabric, feeling you pulsate already, "Do you like it when I tease you over your pink panties, baby?".
"Yes", you scrambled out betwen moans and deep breaths, "Oh my Goodness, princess", he cooed as you squirmed, "You want me to fill this pussy up?", he wondered as you let out a yes followed but a deep mewling sound.
"Let me take a little peek, then", as his fingers pushed the fabric down, a string of wetness caught in the material as he smiled, "Oh my Goodness, look at this pretty little pink pussy", he kisses your clit, "all of you, you're se beautiful, baby".
Rubbing the inside of your thighs with his thumbs, pressing the soft skin as he got rid of your underwear, "Are you going to let me fill you up?", he asked as he wouldn't do it without consent.
"Yes, please do it, Lan", you moaned, hand looking for his own to hold.
"You don't need to say please, my love - here", he whispered as he laced your hands together, "you'll always have me, you hear me? I'm yours, sweet girl", he smiled.
His hand that wasn't securely laced in yours helped you take his underwear off before he came back up to kiss your lips softly.
"Does it feel good when I tease your clit like that, gorgeous?", he smirked as he ran the tip of his cock in your sensitive bud, "Yes - uhg, baby", you gasped, looking into his eyes and swearing you could get lost in them had you not been in such a state of arousal as you were.
"You look so pretty like this, my beautiful, sweet girl", he praised as he saw your twitches and heard your moans at his words, "we need protection, though", he stated.
"I'm good, didn't see anyone else - you?", you wondered as he shook his head, "didn't see anyone else either - condom?", he asked, making you nod and separate so he could get it from his toiletries bag. Hormonal contraception left you feeling worse that it made your life easier, so you and Lando always used condoms.
Rolling it down his shaft, Lando climbed back in the bed and kissed your lips, adjusting himself before he entered you.
You whimpered as Lando slid inside you, a low groan escaping from his throat as he gently slid, taking your hand back in his and resting them next to your head on the pillow.
"You feel so good for me, sweet girl, so wet so warm, so good - aah", he breathed out, "so tight, my sweet sweet girl", he squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of your walls squeezing him.
You stretched your arm out enough to pull his face closer to yours, kissing his jaw and then his lips before whispering "you can move, love".
Lando pulled back slowly, thrusting in gently to begin with and savouring how you felt around him.
"I love you", you muttered into his neck between moans as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you faster, harder and deeper.
"I'm close", Lando groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, his hand crawling between your bodies and drawing lazy circles on your clit to get you to your release.
"Me too, feels so good, I feel so good", you moaned out, a high pitch one particularly when you felt the band was about to snap.
“My sweet girl, my beautiful sweet girl, are you going to come for me?”, Lando worked you up as your body started to show signs of it, "let go, my love, I'm here, I've got you”, he soothed, still gently rubbing your clit with one hand and keeping hold of the other.
Your back arched, sensitive nipples rubbing against his skin, as you came with a high-pitched whine, nuzzling your face on his thick neck as you came undone around him. Lando came soon after, his hand that was not holding yours groping your waist as he groaned.
“Good, sweet girl, that was good, you did so well for me. I’ve got you, it's okay", he assured as he felt you flutter around him, probably from overstimulation considering neither of you had been with anyone else and you hadn't slept a full night yet, the tiredness he felt also a cause for how quickly he finished.
Lando kissed your forehead sweetly before he pulled out, getting up and throwing out the condom on the bathroom bin before he cane back to you on the bed.
"Let's put this on, yeah?", he whispered soflty as he helped you put on his linen shirt, buttoning it enough to let you breathe but still feel hugged by the fabric, and then a clean pair of underwear he got from your suitcase.
Before he laid in bed with you again, he put on his own underwear, pulling you to his arms and then pulling the crisp white covers over you.
"Do you feel good, baby?", he asked once you were cuddled up to him, "yes, I do", you smiled, a mixture of post sex glow and being back in his arms.
"Thank you for not giving up on us, I love you, sweet girl", Lando said as he played with your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth so he could kiss every single one of them, "you're the best thing in my life", he mumbled, letting you drift off to sleep.
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iliverae · 22 days
Text
00. THE COOLEST IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD
SYNOPSIS — You don't know anything about soccer, but you do know Sae Itoshi. He's pretty cool. His brother thinks so you're pretty cool too.
note: first post!!! hi guys im iliverae bel !!! omg !!! anyways i miss the itoshi siblings so much hguuhu why wont they be happy
wc ; 2.2 k
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"Mama... I don't want to." With your mother's larger hand gripped tightly in your own, tinier one, you tug on her pointer finger with a chubby pout. She looks down at you, age 5, with a smile, pinching your palm lightly.
"It'll do you good to have some friends, baby. Just spend some time with him."
You look down, cheeks puffed out and feeling frustration well up in your small, childish mind. You didn't want to! You wanted to go home and play with your dolls, not spend time with a stupid, probably stinky boy.
Your other friend, who was a nice girl, told you that guys have a weird sickness that makes everything they touch stinky, so you were a little scared.
You stand in front of the door, a little over triple the size you were, behind your mother's legs and still holding tightly onto her hand. Your tiny heart races in your chest when the door suddenly swings open, and there stands another woman. She's the same giant height as your mom, with pretty teal eyes and dark hair.
The thing that catches your eyes, however, is the thing standing behind her. Around your height—maybe a little smaller, Sae was always a small kid—and holding onto a weird checkered ball tightly in his arms. He didn't look the least bit embarrassed to see you, only looking up at the conversation the adults were taking part in and pretending to listen.
"Right!" The other woman smiles and her hand falls on top of the red head of hair. "Sae really wanted somebody to play with, since little Rin is far too small to even think about holding a soccer ball, haha. It'll be nice to sit down for a while and chat instead of running around outside kicking a ball around."
"Oh no, I get that," Your mom laughs, and you step out from behind the wall of her legs and tug her shorts when she speaks again, hand atop your hair, "Our tea parties are very eventful, but maybe some sport wouldn't do too badly."
Sport? Tea parties? You wanted to have a tea party, but not with this weird boy, who was now kicking that ball up and down leisurely.
"Sae!" The call of that name—it's probably his—catches the boy's attention, and he looks up at his mom, big eyes blinking. She looks down at him fondly, "Will you take [name] outside? Be nice to her, and don't play too rough. If she doesn't want to play soccer, don't force her."
He blinks silently a little longer, before he looks down—at you—and then back to his mother and he nods. She smiles, patting his head before bending down and smooching a kiss on his forehead, "Thank you."
He scrunches his little nose up and starts wiping the place where his mother kissed with pink cheeks, face all puffed up and chubby-and you giggle.
You didn't smell anything too bad. Actually, his house smelt like lavender and jasmine. It was nice. Maybe your friend was wrong.
Your little fit of giggles catches Sae's attention, and he looks over at you—where you were moving away from your mother with a little bit of encouragement from her—you stand in front of Sae, clad in your pink stripey dress with white stockings-you smile at him, toothy and cute.
"Go on," his mother steps out of the doorway, and Sae turns around, looking over his shoulder at you.
"Follow me." He says, speaking for the first time you've ever heard. His voice sounds much different from those of your girlfriends, but it's not deep by any means. It's actually squeaky. You comply and as he rushes down the hallway with pitter-patter steps, you, in your tiny Mary Jane's, follow.
You don't even glance back at your mother as she smiles when you're rushing behind the smaller Sae Itoshi.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
You follow the redhead, right up until he leads you outside (with much struggle opening the screen door—he was about to burst into tears until his mother rushed over and opened it for him), where you two stand in the warm sunlight.
You two rush past some garden beds filled with all sorts of vibrant flowers, various pots and gnomes, and even an outdoor lounge set until you're both on a large, green field. Two goalposts on either side were already set up—tiny goalposts, fit for somebody of your size.
"What's soccer?" You ask with your head tilted and tiny pigtails on either side of your head moving with you.
Sae furrows his little, red brows and his teal eyes squint angrily, "How do you not know what soccer is?! It's the best sport in the whole wide world!" With his brash tone and squished up, frustrated little face—it would've been more believable if you'd just told him he was a "poopy-head" rather than this.
"I don't play sport," You frown, shuffling your feet on the grass. "I like playing with my dolls."
"Dolls are boring," He kicks the soccer ball up and balances it on his toes. You're impressed by this show, but you can't let him see (lest his pouty expression grow coy), only turning your head and glancing subtly.
"Nuh-uh! They're so fun! I bet soccer is super boring!" You stick your tongue out at him. He huffs, catching the soccer ball and holding it under his arm. Sae seems to take heavy offence to your statement, cheeks puffed out, baby fat accentuating his cute, child-like features.
"That's not true!" His voice makes you jump a little, and he moves closer to you, looking directly into your eyes. "If you play it, you'll totally see it's not boring at all!"
"I dun' wanna." You shake your head, crossing your arms. "You said dolls were boring."
Sae frowns, looking down. He grabs his chubby hands together and fiddles with his fingers. "Fine... Dolls aren't that boring. I'll play dolls with you later if you play soccer wit' me now."
Your eyes light up and you smile wide, toothy and excited, "Okay! You have to promise to do a tea party with me!"
Sae looks embarrassed at the prospect, turning around and rushing after the soccer ball as he calls out, "Fine! But you needa play with me!"
"Okay!" You rush over to where he stands, in the middle of the field with the soccer ball on a white circle. "What do I do?!"
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
Your little foot misses the ball completely, and you slip, falling onto your butt on the grass. You let out a shrill scream of frustration, eyes narrowing at the ball and you glare, "Soccer sucks!"
Sae glares at you from where he stands in front of the goal, on the small field, he runs over quickly to where you planted yourself on the grass, "Hey! You're just bad at it!"
You huff, folding your arms over your chest and shuffle around with your legs so you're not facing him, "No! This game is just the worst!"
"No, look." He runs over to the goal you're facing, the ball in tow in front of him, and he kicks it with the side of his shoe, and it flies into the goal. You watch with wide, starry eyes at his goal—you're sure it is the most amazing thing you have ever seen.
"Woah... cool..."
He turns around, hands on his hips proudly and chest puffed up, cheeks pink with your praise, "Cool, right?! Soccer is super cool. You're just not cool enough for it yet."
You stand up, tiny hands balled into fists in front of you while you defend yourself, "What?! I'm cool!"
"Then you should get good at soccer, cuz then, you'll be the coolest." He pokes his nose up in the air, eyes shut closed. "Like me."
Sae Itoshi is undeniably cocky and perhaps, even at the ripe age of 5, he is too egotistical for his own good. You are completely and utterly aware of this fact. Even so, when you stare at him, you can't seem to pull your little eyes away.
You look at where the sun shines from behind his head—even though he's wearing a stupid Transformers t-shirt, and his bangs are choppy and frankly, really ugly, you look at his chubby face, and you believe him.
Your eyes sparkle, and your cheeks grow pink.
That was the day you realised Sae Itoshi was the coolest in the whole entire world.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
From the safe cradle of his mother's arms, Rin wordlessly and mindlessly wakes up from his nap, eyes opening slowly. He's yawning, and the two mothers are fawning over his cuteness. It's not every day Rin gets to sit in his mother's grasp like this, because of how Sae is always stealing her away to play some sport with him, but it's not like Rin holds any contempt towards his older brother for it.
He loves his older brother—and that's why he wonders what's so different about today. Sae spends every waking moment playing this sport, soccer, and every chance he gets, he asks their parents to play with him. When his father was home, he would ask him. When he wasn't, he would ask their mom.
Their father was at work right now—so why hadn't Sae come running up to ask? This is what makes Rin start squirming in his mom's grasp and reaching his hands out in the direction of the screen door, crawling across the couch towards it when she lets him go.
"Do you wanna go outside, Rinnie?" His mother asks him sweetly, looking down at her two-year-old son. "You can play with your big brother if you ask him nicely."
Rin can talk, easily, but all he does is make a muffled "mm" sound (you know the one that babies make) before getting up off his knees and rushing outside, feet only clad in socks as he runs on the concrete.
He only stops when he's right on the edge—a step forward would plant him on green grass. He looks up and sees his older brother rushing after a girl, who he has never seen before. With frilly socks and black leather shoes, a flowy pink dress and a pretty ribbon in your hair—the way you twinkle in the sunlight—Rin thinks you must be the prettiest thing he's ever seen.
You slam the tip of your shoe into the ball, and it goes flying into the goal before Sae even has a chance to stop it—and you cheer. You raise your fists into the air and giggle, jumping up and down with excitement. Your hair flutters alongside you with your movements, "Sae! Sae! Look! I did it! I got the ball in! I'm so cool!"
He pouts, crossing his arms and looking away, "It wasn't that cool..." But with his tone—it's easy to sense the jealousy. Rin sees you wrap your arms around his older brother in a tight hug from the side—you only giggle when he tries to push your face back, away from his.
You both look excited... Rin wants to celebrate with you two as well. He ignores the prickle of grass under his grey socks and rushes over—tiny steps making a little pitter-patter sound until he stands in front of you and Sae. He looks up, eyes wide and sparkly, and the laughing in your mouth dies down at the sight of the little child in front of you.
Your arms are still wrapped around Sae's shoulders—you look at him and ask, "Is this your brother?"
Sae groans, obviously annoyed and he looks away, "Ugh... Rin, get off the field."
Not understanding Sae's words, he keeps blinking wordlessly up at you two. Rin tilts his head to the side and clutches the bottom of his blue hoodie. Sae keeps glaring at him, arms crossed. "Rin, go away. You can't play with us."
You remove yourself from Sae and give him a look—especially when the words start sinking into Rin and his eyes grow glassy and wobble, "Hey! Why not?!"
"Cuz he's a baby! I dun wanna play with babies," Sae huffs, turning his head away. Rin starts wailing at his words, tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto the grass below. The elder Itoshi rolls his eyes and turns away, stomping towards the forgotten ball. "See, he's crying!"
"He's crying cuz you're mean!" You glare at the older brother, then look down towards Rin, who's still sobbing, but quietly now. He looks so much like your younger cousin, who you spend so much time with at family get-togethers, that you can't help but lean down and wrap your arms around him. "Dun worry... Sae's a big fat jerkface. He's a huge meanie pants."
Your voice is a low whisper, and Rin grips the back of your dress with even tinier hands. Rin sniffles and the tears slowly stop pouring down his cheeks at your comfort. His lips tremble and he looks up at you, tears clumping his long lashes together and glittering in the sun, "R... really?"
"Yeah!" You pull away, taking your comfort with you—you don't see how Rin makes a gurgled baby noise and grabby hands at you—and place your hands on your hips. "I bet you could be a really cool soccer player too! Like me! I'mma convince Sae to let you play, promise!"
You giggle, jotting your thumb towards yourself.
Rin looks up at you, big blue eyes sparkling from the sunlight that you emit, and the way your hair flutters behind you in the soft wind. His cheeks are puffed out and his hands are clutching the ends of his blue hoodie when he stares.
His eyes are sparkling, and his cheeks grow pink.
That was the day Rin Itoshi realised that you were the coolest in the whole entire world.
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ozzgin · 17 days
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Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader
I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!
Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere
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He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.
Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.
He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?
You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.
"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?
Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.
Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.
"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."
The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.
"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."
You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.
"You're never getting away from me, love."
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bloodbenderz · 2 months
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there was a lot of mistakes made in the live action but the worst one without reservation was that the creators did not understand patriarchy and they did not understand women's liberation outside of an american context ( or any context if we're being honest )
it's easy to see on a surface level how that fucked up katara's whole character how she wasn't allowed to have her character defining moments how she wasn't allowed to be angry or even excited or impulsive but i think it doesn't really become clear how deeply wrong the show's conception of gender & patriarchy is (and the implications for the political landscape of the show) until you get into how they destroyed sokka's character too
sokka's whole Complex is born of patriarchy. i'm not trying to do men's rights advocacy here but in my experience when a people is under constant threat, constant assault, constant violence (much of which is gendered) and the traditional "protectors" or "providers" of that people are men, the masculine role becomes protecting women and children. i am not saying this is a good thing or a bad thing but it is true the narrative of violent resistance is overwhelmingly about men. to be a man in a time & place like this means fighting to protect your women, & to die for them is honorable. that is where sokka gets this idea that he has to be a warrior & he has to fight & if necessary die for katara & the rest of the tribe. it's about duty. everyone has a part to play, a role to fill
everyone including women! which is the other half of this. the duty of women is to keep up the home, to maintain a country worth fighting & dying for, to raise children so that the community can have a future. it becomes especially obvious in the context of the show when you see how the nwt lives & in specific how yue lives and dies.
many women participate in patriarchy. many colonized women participate in patriarchy. most of my family comes from or still lives in a country completely devastated by colonialism & its aftereffects & many women in my family believe wholeheartedly in the idea that everyone in the house has a role to play. it's not because these women are stupid or they hate themselves. but when you grow up believing that men & women are fundamentally different, and seeing that women are in specific danger because of their gender, it actually makes a lot of sense to expect the men in your family to protect you, and to raise your sons that way.
in practice that means that men aren't really expected to do anything around the house, especially when there's no actual danger. my aunt literally 2 days ago told me this lol like she doesn't make her sons do anything bc she wants to let their lives be easy before they have to go out into the world & take care of their wives & children.
what does women's liberation look like when an entire community is under threat? colonized women have been dealing with this question as long as colonialism has existed. the writers of this show don't even pretend to understand the question, much less to formulate a thoughtful response to it. they just say oh, well, katara, yue, & suki are all the exact same type of liberated girlboss for whom patriarchy is no significant obstacle.
which brings us back to sokka lol. sokka, at the beginning of the show, has completely subscribed to patriarchy, has integrated it into his sense of self. he has a lot of flaws, but he also has a lot of really good traits. his bravery, sense of honor, loyalty, work ethic, selflessness, all of this came from him striving to be a good man. he would die to protect katara, because she's his sister. he also has her wash his socks & mend his clothes, because she's his sister. even after he meets suki, humbles himself, & expands his view of the role a woman can play, he doesn't completely disengage from patriarchy. at the end of the day he believes in his soul that a good man's duty is to fight & if necessary die for his people, & that's exactly his plan. this is a very real psychic burden. pre-aang, it's also largely fictional & completely ridiculous. we're SUPPOSED to think it's ridiculous. he's spending his time training babies & working on his little watchtower. the swt hasn't been attacked since their mother was killed because it has been completely stripped of all value or danger it once held for the fire nation, & everybody knows this. there is very little "men's work" left, aside from hunting & fishing, which is so damaging to sokka's self image he resorts to toddler bootcamp to feel useful. the contradiction here is comical. it's also completely devastating. that's supposed to be the fucking POINTTTT like colonialism & patriarchy convinces this young boy he needs to be a soldier & die for his family. & you know what he does? He acts like a young boy about it. they didn't just leave this unexplored in the remake they completely changed the circumstances to 1. make sokka incompetent for some reason 2. make his "preparations" seem less ridiculous. Which ruins the whole character. Possibly the whole show.
all this makes the writing of katara & the other women infinitely more offensive to me. katara is a good character because she believes in revolution. she wants to liberate her people from imperialism, & she wants to liberate women from colonial gendered violence, traditional patriarchy in her own culture, & the complicated ways those things interact. it is LITERALLY the first thing you're supposed to learn about her. she's the PERFECT vehicle to address the question of women's liberation under colonialism. one of the things i was most looking forward to seeing in this show was how labor is distributed in a place where almost everything that needs to get done is "women's work" & how it affects katara & sokka's day to day relationship when their lives weren't at risk constantly. what actually are her responsibilities every day, & how do they compare to sokka's? how does her grandmother enforce these traditions with katara & sokka, & how is that informed by her own experiences in the nwt? what does patriarchy look like in a tribe made up of mostly women & children? it's so important to who katara is & what she believes! but why bother exploring any of that when u could instead make her a shein model who has nothing in common with the source material except her hairstyle lol.
yue is actually even worse to me bc yue is supposed to be sokka's counterpart. she's supposed to show you how destructive it is for women specifically to internalize this gendered duty so completely. it sucks for sokka, but he is a man & thus his prescribed role gives him some agency. yue's role affords her no agency whatsoever, & this is the POINT. to make her someone who's allowed to break things off with her fiance if she likes, who sneaks off to do what she wants when she's feeling stressed, whose will is respected as a monarch, like what is even the point of yue anymore? in the original the whole reason she was even allowed to spend time with sokka was because her father knew she was with a trustworthy boy. her story completely loses all significance when the dimension of patriarchy is removed from it. the crux of her whole story is that she is not just a princess but the literal & spiritual representation of the motherland. that's what women are supposed to represent during wartime, at the cost of their own sense of self. in order to fulfill her duty to her people she gives her life to them in every single way that matters.
it's just so unbelievably frustrating (and WRONG) that the only types of characters for these writers are "soulless misogynistic fuck" and "liberated american-style feminist." there's no nuance at all! they don't bother exploring how real love manifests in patriarchal communities, & how patriarchy defines the limits of that love. or how for so many of these people their idea of goodness, morality, & honor is gendered. or how imperialism affects not just individuals but entire cultures & their conceptions of gender. but why do any actual work when you could completely change sokka & katara's general demeanors, their entire personalities, & their roles in the tribe so you can dodge any & all nuance
Anyways. in conclusion. it was bad
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lovincherries · 6 months
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Corio's Pawn
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a/n: first of all, I want to say hi! I know it's been a really long time since i've written anything and i wanted to say thank you for your patience. 2023 has easily been the hardest year of my life, and i am so grateful for all your messages and support. it has truly meant the world to me. hopefully you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. i love you guys! (p.s it's almost been a year since i have written anything, of course snow brought me out of my slump)
NOT PROOF READ! I AM LAZY
word count: 3,735
warnings: taking of virginity, dub con, breeding kink, just smut! corio being corio (bad), reader is curvy (idk actually, i think i only mention it once, but you could really skim those parts. it isn't central to the storyline tbh)
You had loved Corio long before he knew you existed. To you, he was everything you wanted, everything that you desired, everything that you longed for. To him, you were a shy girl, kind, sweet, but shy and rather unnoticeable, or you were unnoticeable. You don't know what did it, neither did he really. He didn't know if it was the harshness of district 12, or the uncertainty (and paranoia) that Lucy gray caused him that made him long for you when he arrived home, or if it were the fact that he really looked at you for the first time. You had the softness that he desired, and the look in your eyes that you would give up everything for him if he said the word. He desired that kind of relationship, one where he held the power and none of the vulnerability. With you, he had nothing to lose. There was no game you were playing, your eyes and quiet smiles held everything he needed to know.
Before he left for District 12, and before the 10th games, Corio considered love a waste of time and resources. After, he considered it a betting game that both sides were bound to lose. While he considered love a waste of time, his desires and needs were still prevalent and crowding his head with thoughts where plans and ideas should be. That's when you fell into his lap, his little rose. It didn't take him long to realize the hold that he had over you, and it took him even less time to put his charm to use.
He knew what you were, a good girl who came from good parents that raised her right. And while the whole world had long since passed the concept of purity, he knew it was something that your parents had taught to you. His little white rose. Except, he didn't want to keep you that way. He didn't have to ask if you were pure, it was something he could almost smell. Your innocence seeped out of your pores like a perfume he couldn't get enough of. Before, he never noticed you, now you were all he desired. He wanted to know all your curves and edges, wanted to fulfill your desires, he wanted to take you. Most of all, he desired to see your cheeks red, your eyes dark with desire, and his cum filling you up.
You and Corio had been seeing each other for a few months, and while you tried to pretend like it wasn't the most exciting thing to ever happen to you, it was. He was all you could think about, all you could talk about with your parents, and he was the only person you wanted to see. You were oblivious to his charm, blinded by everything that he promised to you. You were funnier and more interesting than he originally gave you credit for, he could actually relax around you and laugh, but he would never turn off the person he presented to be. He couldn't wait for much longer though, his composure was slipping, and all he could think about was being wrapped into your legs and diving into you. Your kisses were sweet and genuine, you kissed him with love, but he wanted something darker. He needed it. It was something you didn't intend to give to him though, not that you really knew what you were giving or not.
Your parents had long taught you that certain things were for married couples, after all, if you weren't pure you weren't going to be any good to them to marry off. Even to them you were a pawn, a piece that only furthered their own further interests and success. That being the reason why you were probably oblivious to the games Corio was playing with you. And you didn't know it, but tonight was the night Corio was going to win a game that you didn't know you were playing.
You were getting ready for bed, your light blue light gown skimmed mid-thigh as you sat down at your vanity brushing through your long hair. You examined your features as you did, humming a song that had been stuck in your head all day. You heard a soft knock at your window, turning your head to look for what made the sound, but you found nothing. You quickly brushed it off and went back to the task at hand, your mind getting lost in thought about a certain someone with blonde hair and blue eyes. It was almost like he never really left your mind at all, he was constantly grazing your thoughts. He seemed to appear everywhere that you went, in the color red, in roses, in the fallen snow on the ground. It wasn't till you heard another knock at your window, this one much harder than the last, that you actually went over to check what was making the noise.
When you looked you found your lover waiting for you, his nose and cheeks tinted pink from the cold wind that bite at his face outside. An instant smile flew to your face when you saw him, a white rose clutched in his hand, waiting for you. You quickly opened your window to let him in, he had never done this before. You quickly tried to fight the nervousness in your stomach while you lifted the window as you almost sang his name with excitement. The cold air bit at your nipples, making them hard in an instant as it flew in from the outside. You quickly shut the window after he made it inside, a smile so big on your face that your cheeks hurt from the strain. You were so excited to see him, that you didn't notice the darkness that clouded his eyes, or his gaze that kept falling down to your almost see through dress.
"Corio!" You sang again, your arms hugging around his broad shoulders, you stepped on your tip toes to be able to reach that high. You laughed gleefully, his arms wrapping around your waist. He lifted you up so your legs wrapped around his hips as you giggled in excitement, your night gown riding up to the point it almost exposed your white panties. Corio quickly put you down after the initial excitement, softly kissing your lips after your feet touched the floor.
"My rose!" He laughed purposefully, looking down at you. Your innocence and excitement gleaming up at him through your eyes, and all he could think about was taking it from you. Unbeknownst to you. Corio's height gave him an advantage to look down at your swollen breasts in your night gown. It caused his dick to strain in his pants, he wanted to audibly groan from the pain, but he knew that tonight he was going to get what he wanted.
"What are you doing here?" You asked, your smile radiating through your words. He picked up the rose that had slightly gotten crushed in your big hug.
"I was thinking of you when I saw this, and I just had to come bring it to you," he said as he brought the rose to your hand. It was beautiful, even with some of the petals fallen onto the floor. Your heart melted at the thought of him thinking of you, if only you knew the ways he thought of you.
"Thank you, Corio, it's beautiful!" You gleamed as you took the rose, "I don't have anything to put it in here though," you quickly frowned. You knew that your parents would hear you if you began clattering about through your house looking for a vase. He brought his hand to smooth the lines of your worry, lifting your chin to look up at him.
"It's okay," he soothed. Even while he was comforting you, power radiated off of him, "I can always bring you more." You quickly set the rose on your vanity where you had sat moments before. You were so comfortable with him; it didn't even register in your mind what you were wearing and how inappropriate it might be.
Corio walked over to your bed and sat down, not bothering to ask for permission. He admired you from a distance, your curves prominent in the night gown. Your nipples poking through your dress, begging for his attention, begging for his lips. He would get down on his knees and beg now (something he would never admit to), if it meant that he could suck on them. You turned around fully to face him, looking at him with so much love and admiration.
"Come here, love," He stated, not giving you an option to say no. You did as he demanded, your hips swinging in an unknowingly alluring manner. He grabbed your hands when you were stood in front of him, pulling you onto his lap. You gasped at the action, attempting to pull away from the shock of the sudden closeness but his grip stayed firm. Your legs encased his hips, his hard dick pushing into your folds. You weren't necessarily used to this type of intimacy with Corio, but he had been getting you prepared for what was to come. Heated kisses whenever you two were alone, his fingers would always brush your most sensitive parts without getting too close. He knew how to make you long for things, without you even necessarily realizing what you were longing for. You didn't even really process what was poking into you know, all you knew was that it shot tingles up your spin.
"Corio!" You gasped again when he slightly pushed his hips into yours, an uncontrollable movement on his part, but he longed for a touch that he hadn't felt in so long. His head fell into the nape of your neck, landing soft kisses from your exposed collarbone to your jaw. You giggled at the ticklish feeling of his lips, but it also sent a familiar warmth through you.
"So beautiful," he murmured, still planting kisses on your neck. You brought your hands to his face and made him face you as you planted fast kisses all over his cheeks in face in a girlish manner, giggling softly. Corio smiled at the action, letting it warm his cold heart for only a minute. The guilt of what he was going to do tinged his thoughts for a second before he thought about what he wanted, what he needed. He knew he didn't love you, but you were something he wanted, something he possessed. He liked his possessions.
You both stared at each other for a minute, your hands still cupping his cheeks and his hands held your hips firmly. The light feeling from before replaced itself with something heavier, something you couldn't quite place, and you weren't sure if you wanted to. You saw Corio's eyes fall down to your lips, your hands fell from his face and landed on his chest as the tension weighed down on yours. Corio gripped your hips tighter, squeezing him impossibly closer to you as he leaned in to kiss you. The kiss started off sweet, his lips brushing against yours softly. This you were used to, you quickly fell into the groove of his lips. Finding your home in the way he touched you. There was something different this time though, something new. Corio quickly made the kiss faster, harder, and you tried your hardest to keep up. He licked your bottom lip, asking for permission. You parted your lips, trying your best to match his fast aggressive pace. His tongue edging yours. Your hands now gripped his face out of instinct and his right hand trailed to grab your breast. You gasped into the kiss; he had never done that before. He squeezed as he pushed his hips into yours, eliciting a moan from your lips as his dick pressed into your clit. You had never felt this way before.
Corio pressed himself harder into you, he could feel the wetness from your cotton underwear staining his red pressed trousers, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted to find himself was deep into you, pounding into you, he wanted to feel you quiver around him. His lips were still attached to yours, the rhythm long gone, it was all teeth and tongue. He was surprised at your ability to keep up with him, but he noticed your hesitancy. He moved back from you, separating the kiss harshly. You gasped at the lack of contact, subconsciously pushing your hips into his. Longing for that pleasure that he was giving to you.
"Y/N," Corio said sternly, causing you to look at him. He could see the desire in your eyes, and he knew he had you right where he wanted you. "I need you." He said, with as much desperation he could allow himself. Corio wasn't above begging you for what he wanted, although he would never admit it.
"You have me," you said softly, attempting to smile at him. You leaned back into the kiss, attempting to regain the passion, but he stopped you.
"No, I need you," he emphasized the need, pushing his hips into yours. Your face held the confusion that you were thinking. That was another thing he liked about you, if you wouldn't say it, your face would. It made it extremely easy for him to understand you.
"I-I don't get what you mean," you stuttered, your lips making a slight o shape when he pushed into you again. He moved his hands down to your vagina, eliciting another gasp from your lips.
"I need you here," he said as he moved your dress to your hips and pushed your panties to the side. His fingers grazed your soaking folds, both of you looking down to find a dark wet spot on the crotch of his trousers. "It feels like you need me to, my rose," he said softly, as his fingers dived in between your folds. He quickly found your clit, pressing into it as he watched your sweet face change in pleasure.
"I don't understand still," your voice cried out in pleasure and confusion. He could almost hear the tears in your voice, it should have made him stop, should have made him quit, but it only made him want to take it further.
He used his spare hand to grab yours, he slowly pulled it over his hard chest. You felt the bumps and ridges of his ab muscles and then felt the hardness of his dick. He forced you to squeeze him with your hands, still circling your clit in a harsh manner.
"Y/N, I need you," he emphasized by pushing into your clit, causing you to throw your head back, "here." He said using your hand to squeeze his dick. You didn't respond, you couldn't from the shock waves his fingers were sending through your body.
Corio moved his pointer finger from your clit to your entrance, your wetness coating him even more. He didn't know a girl could get so wet, but God was he grateful for that. All he could think about was you encasing him, your heat squeezing him till he forgot all about District 12 and that Lucy Gray. He could imagine a life with you, a real life, one with happiness and love, but that thought quickly disappeared from his mind.
He could see a life with you though, maybe not a real one but a life. One where you were constantly swollen with his babies. The thought of that caused him to groan as he pushed his pointer finger into you. As he felt you squeeze his finger, all he could think about was how good you were going to feel.
"Please, Y/N," Corio begged, you had never heard such a neediness in his voice before, not that you were aware enough to pick up on it. All you could think about was his finger in you and his thumb grazing your clit.
"O-okay," you agreed. Not even exactly sure what you were agreeing to, but you had a feeling it wasn't necessarily good.
Corio let out a sigh of relief at your agreeance, as much as it shamed him to admit, he would've gotten on his knees for that affirmation. He quickly threw his shirt of his head and gripped your waist. He pulled you in for another kiss, pulling you down onto him once more. Your exposed folds felt even more of him. He quickly tossed you around, laying you on your back as he stood in front of you.
He sat you up, lifting you light blue dress over your head. Your swollen breasts now bare for his viewing, but not an ounce of insecurity ran through your head. You trusted him with everything you had in you. You truly believed he would never hurt you.
"God," he groaned as he looked at you. He couldn't waste another second not being inside of you, he quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down his legs. You admired his muscular form, which only sent more waves of warmth down you. You gasped as he pulled his dick out from his pants, it looked terrifyingly huge for a moment. He laughed at your expression but swelled up with pride as you looked at him with amazement. He quickly pulled your white cotton underwear off of your legs, looking down at your glimmering heat. He needed to be inside of you.
He crawled on top of you, kissing his way from your torso to your breast. He licked at your nipple before fully enveloping it with his mouth and sucking on it. This caused you to let out a loud moan, the tingle that you felt from this sent shockwaves everywhere. He released it, but not before biting it harshly.
He then moved up more, bringing your legs around his waist and his dick in between your folds. You let out a sigh of relief from the contact and he kissed your lips. This time, much softer, gentler than before. He began to grind himself into you, properly getting himself coated in your wetness.
He guided the tip of his dick to your entrance, slowly poking himself in. He maintained control of himself in this moment, even when you moaned from the pleasurable contact. He just put the tip in and you already felt so full. Corio had to separate himself from the kiss and his head found its home in the nape of your neck. He was breathing heavily as he maintained control, slowly pushing into you. Even though, all he wanted to do was wreck you.
He pushed in slowly, inch by inch. Stopping every few seconds to make sure you were okay, and not hurting. Before long, you were gasping at the fullness of him bottoming out into you. You two stayed like this for a long time before he lost control and started moving again.
"God damnit Y/N," he groaned, the sweat of losing control falling onto your skin. His words flew past you as the fullness was all that crowded your mind. "So fucking tight," he cursed as he drew himself out and back into you. He pivoted ever so slightly and was now making you see stars.
"Corio, corio, corio," you moaned as he now began to pound into you. Any sense of self control he had, was long gone as he heard you calling out his name with such need.
"So big," you moaned, drool coming out of your mouth as your grasped your breast with your hands. His hips stuttering inside of you as he watched you fondle yourself.
"Fuck, Y/N, fuck," he repeated, slamming into you harder. It should have hurt you, should have made you cry from the pressure, but it didn't. It drove you nearly as mad as he was. His words were lost on you, anything he said was tuned out by the feeling of being so full of him.
Your pussy let out squelching noises from how wet you were and hard he was pounding into you. Corio began to kiss to your ear and let out breathy whispers that you were too out of it to notice.
"Fucking hell, tightest pussy I've ever had," he murmured more to himself. Corio thought in his head he should have taken this from you long ago, you were handling yourself so well. He practically cursed himself out thinking of all the months he missed out on this feeling. You moans were fuel to his fire, your sweet soft voice paired with the debaucherous noises of your body colliding made him impossibly harder than he already was.
"Gonna fill you up," he moaned again, driving himself deeper into you. He was barely leaving you now, all he wanted was to be completely encased in you. "Wanna see you swell with my babies, want everyone to know that Coriolanus Snow was here," he talked in circles. One of his hands moving to press into your clit, this sent you into over drive. Your pussy began to squeeze him impossibly harder and your head was thrown back in the pleasure he was sending through you, you didn't know it but this was your very first orgasm.
Corio was trying his hardest to maintain his composure, to hold onto the feeling of driving himself inside of you like a mad man, but he quickly lost control when hearing your voice. "I love you, I love you, U love you," You repeated, pulling him closer to you with your legs. You squeezed him so tightly, he thought that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to leave your tight hole.
This only drove him further into you, and this is where he released his cum. His hips stuttered into yours for a solid minute, filling you up with everything he had been saving for you for the last few months. He came so much it began to spill out of you with him still inside of you. He looked down and saw how swollen your vagina was around him, the white semen leaking out around his dick, and for just a moment he wanted to say I love you too.
a/n: shit man. that took me two and a half hours.
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sgtgarricks · 3 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i want your hands on me for all my life
simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst, happy ending, mentions of simon's abusive past, talks about death, mentions of soap's death, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie!!, simon lets himself be happy yay
reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3
PREVIOUS PART: your gentle hands are enough
notes: this is the 2nd part for the people that want a happy ending :) this turned out sooo long LMFAO if you want to be sad just pretend this doesn't exist and read the other one! your feedback & comments help <3
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Simon had always excelled at compartmentalizing his emotions ever since he was a child.
Growing up with an abusive father and an older brother who has hell-bent on scaring him had forced him to develop self-preservation tactics in order to survive their torment. Dissociating was a daily occurrence in his childhood years — it helped Simon escape the pain and torment that was being inflicted on his body.
Being in the military has not been that different.
He was still dissociating, but he was no longer on the receiving end of thrown punches and insults. He was now the perpetrator inflicting agony on his enemies for the good of the world. To rid the world of filth.
Simon Riley had become the ultimate soldier — lethal, swift, quiet, and was immune to the horrors of war, which was no surprise considering he had spent most of his childhood learning to lock away all the negative emotions. The ability had become innate, bleeding into his daily life and in turn, his relationships.
When Simon walked out the door, he had left all the hurt and sadness in the apartment with you. He trusted you'd keep a part of him safe until he came back and even if he didn't.
Simon had whole-heartedly accepted the risk that comes with the job, fully prepared to lay his life down if it meant a better world than yesterday. In fact, Simon knew death more intimately more than anyone. He'd knocked on death's door multiple times but always seemed to come out alive.
It was easy for him to not think of you. The anxious voice inside his head becomes static as he engrossed himself in the mission. The hard part comes when the dust has settled — when all that remain are cold corpses and bullet casings.
Sitting in the helicopter all bloodied accompanied by the sound of whirring blades wasn't usually bad. It would give him time to sit down and process his emotions. It let him feel the slight guilt that never goes away when taking a life — no matter how rotten.
But with each mission he went on after his abrupt departure, he finds himself constantly ruminating his entire reason for not wanting to get into a relationship with you.
Simon had wanted you to move on from him when he died, eventually. Forget the bruised and battered soldier and find someone whole, someone who could be there for you and love you without causing you anxiety every time their phone rang.
He thought himself selfless for trying to spare you, but his entire reason collapses with every mission he comes back alive.
What was his excuse now? What was he protecting you from?
The voices slink back into his mind the moment he gains a moment of peace. Whispers planting seeds of doubt in his mind, feeding on his insecurity and his fears. They're ruthless and persistent.
You don't deserve them. They're too good for you. You're going to leave them one day anyway, why bother?
He feels a tightness in his chest, as if a phantom hand was squeezing his heart that sends pulses of pain through him. His hand shakes slightly, fingers moving absent-mindedly trying to remember the feel of your skin.
"You alright, Lieutenant?" His captain's voice breaks him out of his trance. Simon is slightly startled but doesn't let it show. He merely grunts.
"'M alright."
Silence engulfs them once more. It goes one for one, two, maybe three minutes. It's suffocating. Simon can read people well enough by now that he knows there are questions lingering in the back of John Price's mind.
A part of Simon wishes he'd just spit it out, but the thought of having to explain seemed worse. Instead, Simon settles with a silent huff as the helicopter continues on its designated course.
The second the helicopter landed, Price simply nods at him, trusting him to get his shit together and walks off to his office. Simon does his usual routine, though instead of rushing through the motions, he's intentionally prolonging each action.
Whereas normally he couldn't get out of this place faster, now he almost dreaded the moment he would have to leave. Staying at the base meant monotonous, dull, predictable tasks. Leaving means he has to choose where to go — he has to actively force himself to not drive straight to your apartment despite the fact that every fiber in his being longs to be close to you.
He feels sick, a kind of illness spreading inside of him that only ever felt better when you were around him. A dull ache inside his body that only lights up when you touch him.
He runs a hand to his now damp hair, content with sitting on a sofa in the rec room. Normally, the place would be bustling with recruits goofing around with each other. But one glance at the broodier-than-normal look on the lieutenant's face had created a force field that pushed away everyone as to not get caught in its storm.
Simon doesn't know how long he sits there, half of him trying to convince himself to not come to you. That you don't deserve the broken man with a penchant for violence.
Chuckling lowly to himself, he shakes his head. What kind of demented higher power decided someone as kind as you be plucked and dropped into his sights?
Fifteen minutes went by as he pities himself in the rec room before a shadow in his peripheral vision causes him to look up.
"L.T.," Kyle nods towards him, leaning on the doorframe.
"Garrick." Simon grunts dismissively, not saying anything more. He hops the sergeant will take the hint on his own and leave the miserable bastard to his own devices.
Kyle worries for Simon. The brooding giant seems more miserable than usual — not more than after the incident, but still. Typically, he wouldn't even be able to catch a glimpse of his lieutenant after coming back from deployment. He'd usually opt to disappear from the base in record time.
The fact that he's here now, instead of wherever he usually hangs around, is slightly concerning.
"You alright, L.T.?"
Simon turns to him, slightly annoyed. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Yes, I'm alright." He huffs. Kyle merely shrugs, unbothered by the icy gaze directed at him.
"Well, seeing as you haven't fucked off from the base yet and it's been," Kyle checks his phone for the time, "Around an hour? I'd wager something is wrong."
Sometimes Simon hated how observant Gaz was. Kyle's always been attentive, even more so now without Johnny's presence. It wasn't a secret that Johnny had been the lieutenant's shadow — always lingering near him, cracking jokes and pulling his leg.
His absence had naturally left a gaping void in Simon, oozing all the pain and hurt that comes with losing a comrade. Simon isn't naive, he knows death comes as a package with being in the battlefield. He's seen his fellow soldiers die, held them as they bled out. It was why he tended to keep to himself. After all, the less people you know, the less funerals you have to go to.
This worked most of the time, anyone who got close to Simon would get his arctic stare and cower off — most of the time anyway. Johnny was a different case. Johnny was a little bit of a nutcase to be honest. A talented, bright, pyromaniac, the youngest ever to pass SAS selection, with an arsenal of jokes in his pockets. The blue-eyed Scotsman got along quickly with Kyle, bantering with each other easily as if they had been long-lost friends.
While Johnny still had reservations about dicking around with the captain, he didn't seem to have the same problem with Simon. Seemingly happy to chatter off in his ear about anything, whether it was about shitty food, a lady he picked up from a bar, or jabs directed at Simon.
Johnny's bright disposition put Simon on edge. He wasn't used to seeing someone not be terrified of him. No matter how many glares he sent him, the bugger wouldn't leave him alone. Johnny would continue to go out of his way to talk to Simon, to sit next to him during lunch, and sometimes, Johnny would even manage to get Simon to open up just a little.
"What's on yer mind, L.T.?" Johnny nudged Simon with his elbow. The two men were both sat at the bar, the TV playing an old recording of a football match. It had taken Johnny ten minutes to convince Simon to go out for drinks and he planned on taking full advantage of it.
Johnny had been talking non-stop for around five minutes about his sister who had just gotten married, waiting for a reaction from Simon who seemed distracted. His eyes had strayed to the other side of the bar a few times, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but Johnny was anything but.
"Nothin'." Simon had grunted, tearing his gaze away. A giant smirk plastered itself onto Johnny's face.
"Ah, been starin' at the sad one across the bar, aye?" Seeing Simon's eye widen a little had made Johnny even more gleeful. "Go on then. Ye have my full permission to ditch me tonight." He teased, winking at his lieutenant.
"Don't know what you're talking about, Johnny." Simon had denied instantly, taking a sip of his drink. A normal person would have left it at that, but Johnny wasn't your average person. He loved starting fires and Simon was a flame he wanted to see lit.
"Ach, come on L.T. what's the harm, eh? A little bit of flirting never hurt anyone." Simon didn't know this but Johnny wasn't going to let this go. It was the first time Johnny had ever seen Simon show interest in someone and he'd do anything to get Simon to at the very least, talk to them.
"They're a civvy, Johnny. Not gonna take any chances." Simon shook his head adamantly.
"That's bollocks! All we do is take risks anyway, at least on this one the worst that could happen is getting a drink thrown in yer face." Johnny chuckles, peering at the person across the bar who was clearly nursing a broken heart. Simon still made no move to get up from his chair.
Praying to whatever God was listening, Johnny hoped Simon wouldn't kill him after what he was going to do. Calling over the bartender, Johnny slid the man a fifty.
"Mate, give 'em a refill yeah? Tell 'em it's from the big bloke over here." Johnny signaled the bartender. Simon, who had finally processed what Johnny was doing, couldn't even get a word in. The bartender hastily took the money and went back to his station, ignoring Simon's call.
Simon could only watch in despair as the bartender presented the drink and pointed towards Simon. He received a shy smile, a mouthed 'thank you', and an expectant look.
"Now you've got to go there, mate. Otherwise you'll look like an arsehole!" Johnny threw his arms up, grinning triumphantly. The sergeant crossed his arms and wiggled his eyebrows.
Simon could've easily ignored Johnny and went back to his drink. But a part of him couldn't deny that he wanted to go over there and maybe talk to someone else that wasn't Scottish for a change. Against his usual logic, Simon decided to stand up from his chair.
"You're an arsehole." A glare was sent Johnny's way, although it had no weight behind them. As Simon began to walk away, he could hear Johnny laughing loudly.
"Yer welcome!"
Simon had never told Johnny you were the person who had been texting him during deployment, but he knew deep down that Johnny already knew. He'd asked multiple times, even tried sneaking a look.
He simply didn't want to admit that Johnny forcing him to talk to you that day had shifted Simon's world. He wished he told Johnny.
"We all miss him, L.T." Kyle's soft voice spoke again. He's closer now, dragging a chair from a table and sitting in front of Simon. Kyle knew he could never fill the giant void that Johnny left, but he felt a sense of responsibility to at least try. Price had become more closed off after his death whereas Simon had slowly been unraveling, little stitches coming loose a day at a time.
"All we can do is make sure it's not in vain." Simon sighs, hearing Kyle's words, knows he's right. That he can't go back to expecting the worst all the time, constantly on edge.
Johnny had breathed life into his ghostly presence, bringing Simon back into the realm of the living. The more Johnny got out of the lieutenant, the more people were able to see that Simon wasn't merely a visage, a ghost roaming the hallway. That he was a real person.
He was throwing away his chance at a second life. Perhaps it was also a twisted way of Simon punishing himself. If he couldn't save Johnny, couldn't save the man who managed to get him to talk to you, then he didn't deserve you. It was a round-about way of him trying to mend off the guilt eating away at him that had inadvertently claimed another victim.
"Thank you, sergeant." Simon stood up. Clapping his hand on Kyle's shoulder.
I see you.
"Don't mention it, sir."
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The drive to your house takes around twenty minutes, which means that's all the time Simon has to try and figure out a way to atone for his sins.
They're too gracious to even hold a grudge against you. A small part of Simon tells him. While he hopes that's true, he still wants to apologize and acknowledge how unfair he's been to you. If not to make you feel better, at the very least it will ease his conscience.
He drums his finger on the steering wheel, the radio turned on but on low volume. For once, Simon wishes he had Johnny's ability to get out of problems with his alluring words and his kicked-puppy look.
Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't even realized he's been sitting in his parked car for a few minutes. He clasps his hands when he realizes they're shaking. God, he was so terrified. Not of you, no. He was scared of having to see what he's done to you. Is terrified of really seeing the carnage Simon Riley had tore in you.
He lets out a bated breath and opens the car door. He knows you're home by now, probably cooking away while listening to some indie band. Resting his head on your door, he braces himself once more, and knocks.
He waits, the seconds feeling like hours. The door swings open and he sees your surprised face.
"Simon." You compose yourself immediately, not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him. Something twitches on the corners of his mouth hidden by the balaclava. As if realizing he's still wearing it, he takes it off.
"Can I come in?" He asks timidly, as if approaching a wounded animal. He had no idea how you'd react after him being gone for so long. Even during his three month deployments, he'd sometimes text you once every fortnight. But after the way he left things, he couldn't bring himself to message you at all. Couldn't even stomach the thought of you still pining over him after what he had done. It was easier for him to simply block your number. Photos of sunsets and coffee cups gathering dust in his photo album, unsent.
You didn't even think about it, your body unconsciously moving sideways to let him in. A part of you screams at yourself.
Idiot, show some dignity.
It had been so easy for you to let the man who had left you for six months without a word back into your apartment, into your life.
You felt like an addict. Constantly begging for your next fix and taking whatever scraps are thrown your way. It's pitiful, but you're too far gone, anyway. His dirty boots make contact with your hardwood floor, leaving small specks of mud on them. Simon notices the frown marring your face and begins to unlace his boots.
"Sorry." He apologizes, neatly tucking away his muddy boots at the side of your door. You close the door behind him, making your way towards your kitchen. The plate clatters loudly in the sink as you haphazardly put them away, clearly rattled.
Simon coughs slightly, words stuck in his throat. He'd prepared a small speech earlier yet all the words seem to escape him. All the courage he had mustered for his little speech all had but disappeared into thin air. He feels out of his depths, not used to being vulnerable.
"What are you doing here, Simon?" Your voice sounds so tired. He supposes he was to blame for that.
"Can we talk?" He sends you a pleading look, hoping you still felt a sliver of the love you used to harbor for him — the only thing stopping you from kicking him out.
"Oh, so after blocking me and radio silence for six months you've decided you want to talk?" The bitterness seeps into your words like venom. He can't even make himself physically recoil from the sharp edge of your tone. Simon can feel the thin rope right beneath his feet, one wrong step and he'd be falling off the edge.
He takes a deep breath. "I deserve that."
"Oh, you deserve more than that Simon Riley. I should kick you out right now." You were huffing now, going slightly red in the face. Had he not been so anxious he might've thought you look cute. But right now? He was downright terrified.
"Just-" Simon pinches his nose bridge, calming himself down. "Let me speak for a moment, yeah? After that if you want me to leave, I'll leave." He holds both his hands up.
You were livid, rightfully so. The man you love had essentially decided he didn't want to communicate with you anymore, breaking your heart. The first week you thought maybe something had happened to his phone, broken it maybe?
As the weeks turned into months, the realization dawned on you that he had purposefully blocked you, cut off all contact. At first there was only sadness. You spent your days crying into your blanket, some days barely functioning. The hurt and betrayal had emotionally drained you. Did all those years mean nothing to him?
You knew he had a hard time expressing his emotions, but never in your wildest dreams did you think he would throw you away just like that. Like you were nothing more to him than a good fuck. Despite your head telling you otherwise, the emotional baggage he had left you with didn't leave much option.
It was easier to hate him than to accept maybe he didn't love you at all.
You spent the first few months cursing into the wind hoping it'd somehow hurt him a fraction of how much he hurt you. Afterwards, the pain became a lingering , dull ache, but not debilitating anymore. It became a constant that you carry everyday.
Kicking him out the door was tempting, but you knew it wouldn't do you any good. If anything, the words left unsaid would become a leech — slowly draining away your curiosity until you eventually leave another voicemail.
You give him a pointed stare before sitting down on the couch. Simon slowly approached you, wanting nothing more than to sit next to you but choosing to sink into the other side of the couch. He sees you cross your arms, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.
"I jus' wanna say that I'm sorry." He stares into your eyes, slouched with elbows on his thighs. Seeing your mouth thin into a line, Simon knows he's going to have to do a lot better.
"When Johnny died..." Your eyes widen, arms slacking slightly. He'd talk about Johnny sometimes but sometime ago had entirely stopped mentioning his name altogether. You had suspected something terrible had happened but you didn't want to believe it.
"I was so angry. It's not fair. He was so young, had his whole future ahead of him. Told me he was gonna see his sister's newborn on his next leave." He breathes out, clenching his fists.
"All of that, gone. We haven't even caught the bastard yet." Simon runs an exasperated hand through his face. Your arms were no longer crossed, choosing to fiddle with the edge of your shirt. You wanted to comfort him so badly, wanted to take him into your arms and tell him everything's going to be okay. But he was still pouring his heart out and you wanted to greedily snatch every piece he was willing to give.
"I had constant nightmares for months. Sometimes, I still do. You're just a heavy sleeper, I suppose." He chuckles and catches the way the edge of your mouth turn up.
"It's never easy, losing someone. It changes you. I used to hear his nonsense almost everyday and now it's just not there. I'm terrified one day it'll be like he was never there at all." Simon looks away, blinking tears away.
"But he was there. I know that. I felt him. He was like the fucking sun, but instead of being 150 million kilometers away, he's next to my ear with his Scottish nonsense." Simon chuckles bitterly, reminiscing the times when Johnny had to translate his gibberish.
You stay quiet, letting him speak freely. You had a feeling where this was going and how Johnny's death had indirectly impacted your relationship.
"If I died tomorrow, would you be okay?" His question catches you off guard. It was a question you've pondered a thousand times before, and every time you only ever came up with one answer.
"No." You answer honestly, because you'd break either way. Whether it was tomorrow or a year from now. You can feel a part of Simon in your bloodstream that if he died, some part of you would die with him.
"I only ever wanted you to be okay." He straightens, testing the waters by moving closer to you. You let him.
"Would you prefer if I never loved you at all?" Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest you worried he could hear it.
"No." His answer was immediate, as if he'd never been as sure before. "Not selfless enough for that."
"Then are you selfless enough to accept that I would want it to hurt?" You put your hand on top of his, gently grasping them within yours. Simon feels the broken pieces of him mending together.
He's quiet, not sure how to respond. He didn't use to understand why people would put themselves on the line, but he's starting to.
"If you died, I'd want it to hurt. I'd want it to take my breath away. I'd want it to keep me awake at night. I'd want every single bone in my body to ache when you're gone, because that would mean I have loved you with all of me."
You don't realize you'd started crying. There was no distance anymore between you and Simon. His thigh pressed against yours as you clutch his hand to your chest.
"I want it to hurt so badly, because I want to love you deeply." Tears were streaming freely down your face you couldn't even stop them even if you wanted to.
"Simon, will you let me hurt for you?"
And he lets you.
"Okay." His hand go to engulf your frame, but you had thrown yourself at him before he managed to. Simon can feel his shirt getting wet, he'd never thought he'd be slightly happy over the fact that you were crying.
Everything's going to be okay.
Your head was now on his collarbone, his palm gently holding you there. You feel a kiss on the top of your head as he strokes it.
Neither of you know how long you simply cried on him, much less when you ended up on his lap. When he heard you stop — tired from the energy you exerted, he slowly rearranges his body so that you are able to lie fully on top of him. His sore back is the last thing on his mind as he sees your peacefully sleeping away.
A pounding headache eventually woke you. You weren't sure if last night really happened or if your mind had conjured a scenario where Simon came back for you. However, the sweltering heat you feel on your midsection proves otherwise.
He really was here.
His eyes were closed, seeming to be asleep. You test the waters, placing your palm on the left side of his face. A hand immediately darts towards your hand and keeps it there.
"Put some pills on your nightstand for the headache." He murmurs, eyes still closed. His face turns slightly, placing a kiss on your palm. Even after half a year away, he still knows you like the back of his hand.
Leaning in, you give him a peck on the cheek. As much as you want to drink in the sight of him, there were more pressing matters at hand. You need the reassurance. You need him to tell you he wasn't going to abandon you again.
"Simon, did you mean it?" You can't get the entire words out, can only hope it was enough to convey your tumultuous emotions. His heart aches that you don't believe him, but he understands.
"I love you, sweetheart." Soft lips descend upon your own, barely brushing.
"'M here to stay as long as you want me here." He sneaks a hand under you, pulling you closer to him. There isn't any part of you that's not connected to him in some way.
He was so warm, scorching you inside out. You wanted his flame to burn every inch of your skin. When he left, everything felt cold to the bone, your life turning into muted blues and grays.
Simon brought warmth into your life, with his little acts of service. With the little trinkets he brings back after deployment because it reminded him of you. With his gentle hands, gentle kisses — his gentle self.
"I love you, Si." You whisper, grabbing him by the neck and lowering your lips onto his. Brushing softly, you were going to pull away when Simon lets out a moan. Heat builds inside of you as you slip your tongue inside his open mouth. He grunts in surprise, holding you still for a second. But you're impatient.
"Need you." You whine, "Want you so much, Si."
"Yeah?" He mumbles against your lips, running his hands through your hair gently.
"Thought I'd be in the dog house much longer than that, love." He teases you. Simon yelps slightly when you retaliate by biting on his lower lip. He grips both your cheeks with his fingers, pushing you away from him.
"That wasn't very nice of you, hmm?" He gently shakes your head, grinning handsomely. "Think you need a little lesson in being nice, sweetheart. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher." He leans in and kisses your puckered lips, working his way downwards.
His hands wander everywhere, working themselves underneath your shirt. You feel goosebumps rise where his fingertips lay, shivering under his hold.
"Missed you so much, Si. Please." Your moans echo throughout the room. He's holding your thighs together as he trails down your body as you writhe.
"Missed you too, love. Fuck, missed you so fucking much." He manages to say. He cups your ass as he mouths at your panty-covered mound. Your juices seep through the fabric, making Simon groan.
"Mmm.. Someone missed me too." He runs his tongue up and down your slit as you cross both your legs behind his neck. He felt you clench your thighs and he feels blood rushing downwards. Turning his head slightly to the right, he nips lightly at your inner thigh.
He'd barely touched you but here you are already begging for it. Simon Riley has you wrapped around his finger and it scares you a little how much of a hold he has on you. You had bared your neck so openly for him and he had bit down the first chance he got.
"Will you let me take care of you, love? Make you feel good." He hums, fingers trailing along your inner thigh waiting for permission. You nod fervently before realizing he can't see you.
"Yes, yes, yes. Need you to take care of me, Si." Your heart was beating fast out of anticipation.
"Yeah? I'll make you feel good, baby." He coos at you as his fingers slowly pull down your panties. Strings of your juices were sticking to the insides. He threw them aimlessly, eyes zeroed in on your wet pussy.
His finger runs through your folds, making squelching noises. "All this for me, hmm?" He tilts his head up, pinching when you don't reply immediately. The sudden sensation makes you whimper.
"All for you, Si. Just for you." You were panting heavily as Simon sucks your clit into his mouth and licks in a circular motion. You thread your fingers in his hair, not tugging harshly.
Simon laps at your pussy like a starved man, burying his entire face in your warmth. He moans between every few licks, the taste of you dazing him. Your eyes glaze over as you see the man you love pleasuring you with earnest. He continues for a while, alternating his focus between your bud and your folds.
When you tug at his shirt impatiently, Simon grunts. He gets up and throws his shirt over his head. Not one second after it's off, you begin to paw at him, desperate to feel every inch of him.
Simon thinks he's never seen such a beautiful sight. Your hair was messy from your movements, eyes hazy as he can feel goosebumps on his body where you stare. He grabs your face and kisses you desperately, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His clothed bulge was grinding messily against your wet pussy as his boxers begin to darken from the wetness.
Simon's whimper fill the room when he feels you grinding upwards to rub yourself on his cock. He pulls from your lips with a string of saliva. Not waiting for him, you scramble to take off your shirt, baring your tits to him.
His eyes drink in the state of you greedily, one hand groping your tits as the other travels down to your pussy. You were beyond wet enough for his cock, but he's determined to make you cum on his fingers first.
Two fingers slip into you gently. The stretch catches you off guard, it's been a while since you've had his thick fingers probing inside you. His fingers were thrusting shallowly as you grind on his palm.
"Fuck, Simon. Feels so good." You babble, barely able to keep your eyes open, the pleasure overwhelming your senses.
"Yeah? Gonna make you feel even better." With that, his fingers thrust deeper into you, massaging your spot. Your back arches as Simon plants his face on your chest, sucking on your nipples.
He crooks his fingers slightly as he continues thrusting, his palm touching your clit with each time. You couldn't stay still anymore, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts.
The room was filled with wet, squelching noises and your combined moans. Your hands were gripping his bicep, feeling the large muscle flex under your fingertips.
His thick fingers continue his ministration as you begin to climb higher and higher. Your walls begin to pulse and constrict his fingers. Sweat drips down his forehead as he continues to drive into your pussy with his deft fingers.
"You gonna cum on my fingers, love?" He teases, placing kisses all over your damp face.
"Yes, oh fuck. Please, please let me cum."
Simon grins against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over. His fingers begin to speed up even faster, hitting your sweet spot with every effort. You feel the familiar tingling sensation begin to build in your core.
Your legs begin to tremble as you struggle to get air inside of your lungs. Panting harshly, you close your eyes as your orgasm starts to reach its peak.
His hand leaves your tits as they begin to rub circles on your clit. The combined assault on your clit and your pussy brings you over the edge.
"Look at me when you cum." Your eyes open immediately as you find him staring directly into yours. Your legs tremble deliciously, hands gripping Simon even tighter as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Mouth agape, your back continues to arch as Simon doesn't stop, overstimulating you with a few shallow thrusts.
Simon's hand was covered in your juices as he slowly withdraws them. Your pussy clenches, feeling empty. He brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. Obediently, you open your lips and let him slide his fingers inside your mouth.
Circling your tongue all finger, your eyes begin to close again. When you blink them open, you see Simon's bare body hovering above yours. His cock was standing proudly, shiny with precum. You feel the urge to take his cock into your mouth. When your hand tries to reach for him, it's stopped by his firm grip.
"Next time, yeah? Need to fuck your pretty pussy, baby." He slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on his hip. He repositions his cock at your pussy, sliding the head up and down your folds.
Tilting your head down, you see Simon's hand grip his cock firmly as it slowly rubs his precum all over your pussy. He groans seeing your juices mix together. Moving your hips upwards, you try to push his head in and he hisses.
He grabs your hips and gently lowers them on the bed. "You just lay there and take it, yeah? Let me do all the work." You preen, more than happy to lay there and see him move above you.
"Put it in, Si. Missed your cock so much." You whimper, pressing delicate kisses on his neck. He nudges your nose with his, capturing your lips into a kiss. Your moan gets interrupted by your own grunt of surprise as the head of his cock slips in.
His cock was thicker than his two fingers, with veins running all over the shaft rubbing your walls deliciously. You link your legs behind his waist, helping him push deeper.
When he's inside you, it's like two pieces of puzzle fitting together. His cock fit so perfectly inside you, as if you were made for him and him for you. You knew Simon was it for you a long time ago, falling head over heels so easily for the grumpy soldier. You weren't happy at how long it took him to come to his senses, but you're glad either way.
He thrusts slowly, going deeper with each shift of his hips. His tongue tangles with yours as wet noises fill the room. You know when he's pushed in to the hilt when you feel him bump against your cervix slightly. Your pussy clenches at the tiny pain, causing Simon to moan out.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so well, sweetheart." He stays there for a moment, grinding his cock inside. You only stop kissing when you pull away to beg him to start moving. Both his hands are placed firmly on your hips when he begins thrusting.
He moves back and forth slowly, the walls of your pussy feeling every drag of his big cock. You hiss against his mouth, the sensation lights up every nerve in your body. You beg him to go faster but he ignores you, continuing to sink slowly.
When you're about to wail at the pace again, he thrusts sharply — his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You gasp, clawing his back when he continues to move slowly but going deep with each thrust. You can hear the sound of his balls smacking against your ass.
Your combined juices were dripping out of your pussy, causing wet noises whenever he moves inside you. You don't know how long he continues his brutal motion, your eyes dazed and breath unsteady.
You've never felt this way before. It feels as if he's everywhere inside you, there isn't a part of you that doesn't feel touched by him. He thrusts as if he's trying to imprint himself in you, trying to permanently leave a mark.
"Such a pretty pussy. Doing so well f' me, sweetheart. You gonna let me cum in you? Gonna let me fill you up nicely?" He grunts, his composure starting to unravel. His cock begins to piston in you messily as he loses himself in your pussy.
"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, love you so much, Si. Need your cum in me." You cry out desperately, tightening your legs and pulling him deeper inside you.
"So good to me, love. Letting me cum in your pretty pussy." His form begins to shake slightly from exertion. You know his hands were going to bruise your hips from how hard he was gripping them but you couldn't care less.
Your body moves up and down from the force of his thrust. His cock touching your cervix with each delicious thrust. Your pussy begins to pulse wildly on his cock as you feel another orgasm build inside you. When his cock begins to pulse, your eyes roll to the back of your head as it sends you over the edge. You moan out his name loudly, pulling him by the neck to your chest as his arms hug you to him.
You feel his desperation and love when he holds you. He hugs you so tight to him your ribs ache. You never want this feeling to go away.
"I love you so much, fuck." Your orgasm triggers his own, his cock pulsing as his creamy load fills up your pussy. He's so snug inside your pussy the excess cum begins to drip out. When he stops unloading inside you, he moves slowly, thrusting a few times shallowly. A part of him wants to look at the way his seed drips from your pussy but he didn't want to move away from you.
You both pant with eyes closed as your breathing begins to even out. Simon slowly pulls out and you hiss at the feel of his cock leaving you empty. You look down and see his cock covered in his cum and yours.
Your head falls back down to the pillow, eyes closing shut. Simon stares at the ceiling and huff, righting himself. You feel him plant a kiss to your forehead as the bed dips.
"'M gonna go clean us up, yeah? You stay there." You hear him step into the bathroom, going to wash himself and grab a clean towel to clean up your mess. By the time he came back, you had already passed out, judging by the sound of your low snores.
He begins to wipe your thighs and try to dry the surrounding areas as best he can. He'll change the sheets later when you're well-rested. Simon climbs into bed, hugging you to him. He runs his fingers through your hair, slowly unknotting them one by one.
He stares at your sleeping from and grins. Lowering his lips to yours, he keeps them there for a few seconds.
"I love you."
You can only mumble in response, too tired to properly articulate the words.
"I love you too, Simon."
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liknws · 9 months
Text
skz & introducing you to the others
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⎯⎯ PAIRING: stray kids x reader ⎯⎯ TAGS: fluff, tiny bit of angst, just cute shit ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, lmk if i missed any
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CHAN
absolutely the least subtle of the group
sure the rest of skz knows that he's seeing someone but they respect that he hasn't brought you around the chaos yet
it's not until he name drops you when half asleep do the rest of the boys start teasing him
instantly regrets speaking and tries to bury himself in the couch to hide from the jokes
he'll bring it up to you eventually, almost nervously
"so i was thinking, it's time you met the other's" and you're supportive of the idea. only ever wanted to do things at his pace
you can't hide that you're just as nervous to meet them because if they don't like you what's to say that won't stop the relationship?
thankfully they like you and are welcoming to you when you come by for dinner
seungmin jokingly calls you "mom" one day and now they won't stop with the parent jokes
next step is introducing you to the world but the boys are protective and help keep your relationship private
(they go to ridiculous lengths to make this happen and at one point you have to convince them that JYP knows about you and no one is breaking rules, just that you want to stay out of the public eye for now while you can)
MINHO
you were more nervous meeting his cats (who love you by the way and you get daily pictures of the three from his parents)
oh yeah, you met his parents too and they loved you
he wasn't reluctant to introduce you to skz but he wasn't making it happen fast either. "the longer i can keep you to myself, the better" was always his excuse and you don't argue because it's true
stay ends up learning about you first (by accident) when you're visiting his parents and he posts a photo of you cuddled asleep with the cats
he did it without thinking, just captioning it something vague and cute on the official instagram
chan takes it down quickly but not fast enough and there are already screenshots
you end up meeting the rest of them through video call when chan calls minho to tell him what happened
once it's clear you're not upset at all, you're invited (read: demanded) to the dorms to meet the rest of them when the break is over
minho pretends to grumble that his perfect secret is blown and that he's going to have to share you now because they'll all love you
spoiler alert: he was right
CHANGBIN
i don't think this man knows the meaning of subtle or private if a dictionary was thrown at him
the second you two make anything official he's asking you to come by the dorms and hang out, to come with him to the gym when he's home to spend more time with him
he can't get enough of being around you and that translates to the rest of skz knowing about you pretty early on
the hard part is keeping your relationship private from people outside of the group
he has almost name dropped you so many times during interviews or tours that it's becoming a running joke among the boys who is on "binnie's big mouth duty" that night
it takes the whole group to keep him from saying something that would give you two away
HYUNJIN
while chan and changbin might be the least subtle, hyunjin is easy to tell something has changed
he's singing certain songs with more energy
his personal instagram posts are very boyfriend coded but he doesn't really say or do anything specific
there's a lot of speculation that he might be seeing someone
you're actually the one to blow it
you were just going to drop something off in the dorm while everyone was at practice (he'd cleared it with security and you had your own code specifically for visits without him)
what you didn't expect was han standing in the kitchen half dressed and a tooth brush in his mouth
he screamed, you screamed, he screamed again, security came to the rescue
you're trying to explain who you are until you pull out your phone and call your boyfriend
"han is here and i scared him and now security is kicking me out i just wanted to leave you a present on your bed im so sorry"
you have to switch to video call to prove that you're talking to hyunjin and that yes, you're his s/o and allowed to be there so security lets you back in with apologies
safe to say you don't do the surprise visits in case you give jisung another heart attack
JISUNG
when i say this boy was stressed about it, he was stressed out by you meeting his friends
you had teased him endlessly about how his true soulmate is minho and he's kind of scared that once you meet them you'll think you're not good enough and leave him
so it takes a lot of talks to get him okay with introducing his favorite person in the world to them
you suggest that instead of meeting them all at once to do it one-by-one in whatever order is the most comfortable with him
which makes you wonder if you're going to meet minho first or last
you're surprised however when you meet him first and ji is anxious the whole time
until both you and minho reassure him that it's okay and that because you and him love jisung that why wouldn't they get along
and you do (so much that minho is almost your bff) which is a relief to him
you end up meeting chan and changbin last which you realize is because of how much he really respects their opinions
he's still a little anxious sometimes when you hang out with the whole of skz at once, fearing that the chaos will chase you off but he realizes he has nothing to worry about when you feed that chaos
FELIX
you two made a whole plan of how to introduce you to the rest of the guys
mostly because you wanted it to go perfectly even if he assured you it would no matter what
he helps you get into the dorms right after everyone has left so you can set up snacks and games to have a game night and get to know everyone
he was supposed to be the first one through the door so when you almost throw yourself at changbin instead of your boyfriend you're mortified
they don't let you live that down but it was an effective way to break the ice and it gets everyone laughing right away
the small hiccup passed, you're trying to impress the others as much as you can because you know they mean so much to felix
chan eventually gets you alone in the kitchen to ask if you're okay and you confess in one breath how anxious you are for them to like you
chan assures you that no one could hate you, you're basically felix in another person and they can all see how he looks at you
another situation where the boys are super protective of you two and your privacy, helping to keep you out of public eye as much as possible
SEUNGMIN
literally no one knew this man was seeing anyone until you just showed up to the dorm one day?
truly one of those types who has the private life thing down and while he shares most of his life with skz, he hasn't ever shared your existence with them
that was an agreement you both came to when things were getting serious and you two like having this whole separate life with each other away from everyone else
they're all confused who he's invited to dinner (he's been so picky about the foods and made sure that only your favorites are made)
truly no one knew about you at all, he wasn't any different but when you're around there is a whole other side of seungmin that the boys are shocked by
until you roast him just as hard as he does the others and oh now they see why you two are perfect for each other
they're not really convinced you two are together until you kiss him goodnight at the door and when he turns around he's so pink in the face and biting his lips to keep from smiling
you two are probably the only ones that are able to keep your relationship out of the public eye for so long until seungmin drops one day that he's a dad?????
JEONGIN
he loves teasing about your existence to the others
like you're aware of what he's doing and you think it's funny
"oh just texting my s/o" like the most casual sentence ever that leaves everyone just looking around confused
never once says your name but will bring you up anytime it's natural
he does this so much and it's so normal that he does it on stage during their unscripted part and it takes too long to realize what happened
seungmin realizes first and starts laughing, telling the others while jeongin realizes what he did
you two have talked about revealing your relationship for a long time but the teasing of it was too much fun
so you end up being introduced to skz at the same time that stay learns about you
(you were backstage at the show with the staff. after clearing the idea with staff, you're dragged out on stage hand-in-hand with jeongin)
to say the boys flip when they realize it's you is ridiculous because you've been on so many schedules and shows that they never realized you were right under their nose
that was part of the fun of it to you two but even with that part over you two will still find ways to tease the members together
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popponn · 3 months
Text
boyfriend hcs | isagi yoichi.
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notes: im done pretending to be sane. "things and hcs about isagi yoichi" post because world hard and cold isagi yoichi soft and warm. this time, really mean it when saying no brain just isagi big love. please don't look at this too closely, other than that: no warning.
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the "natural rizz" type who is honestly not really good at being purposefully suave. if he tries, it will either go boyfailure route or cute babygirl route. if he doesn't, it's a full package bf who will get your whole family & friends' approval.
at first, he tries really hard, but the moment you get him to calm down and kick the nervousness away, you will get: casual affection, unconditional support, a cuddly & clingy bf on weekends, etc.
looks at matching keychains once and the metavision is telling him it will be cute if you two have that.
he seems like the type who is not obvious when he is in love. at first. the moment his friends accidentally stumble upon your dates and see his smile, his smile is fooling no one.
somehow could make the most mundane unromantic activity cute as long he does it with you. accidentally. somehow.
when he starts dating you, his clothes will reflect your taste because: 1) he will shop for those clothes with you and ask for your opinion; 2) if you are a sane human with a bare minimum level of taste you should know his fashion sense level is in minus already—please do a favor to mankind and get him away from that neon orange trousers and bright green jumper; 3) he just wants to see you happy; 4) despite his humble look and usual demeanor, he likes showing off that he has you and you have him.
doesn't mean he can pick your clothes. do yourself a favor and think thrice or ten times if he suggests clothing or god forbid a mix match. love makes people dumb but it has to have a limit. your man is not trustworthy in the style department.
getting his parents' approval should be the least of your worries. his blue lock fellows and noel fucking noa should be your concern. good luck, high chance you have to verbally fight people like michael kaiser and barou shohei.
your phone is guaranteed to have at least 5 country clocks in it because yoichi is an international sensation. and when he is not busy practicing, you barely leave his mind at all.
it ranges from "oh, they will like this as a gift" to longingly gazing at his phone because while he is an understanding & secure attachment-style boyfriend, it doesn't mean he can bear with you not contacting him for three days. call your man. text him.
his favorite songs will be that cm song and whatever you often listen to around him—"it just sticks". his favorite movie will be totoro and your favorite movie. attachment and fond memories are the main driving force for his favorite stuff.
is pretty independent and self-sufficient that is not clingy most of the time. unless when he is sleepy. he hugs his pillow when he sleeps, now that he has you get ready.
if your main love language are acts of service and words of affirmation, it will be an instant match. "i do this for you, you do this for me" without any talking needs to be done, just like second nature. and he likes to be praised.
in case of quality time and physical touch, it will take some time to get used to, most probably. while he clearly enjoys time with his closest ones, isagi also enjoys his alone time and thinking time too. and he used to be a shy boy who doesn't share touches with people much. but believe in his adaptability, as long as the parties involved are willing to figure this out it will get figured out.
made a whole post about this once like a besotted fool, but is a really good listener who likes listening to you. it's like you "giving him a piece of you"—especially if it is a part of you that you don't share much.
please do listen and try to figure him out though. moving on soon and focusing on the present's solution is good but in some cases, it really might lead to what people call "pent-up emotions". isagi doesn't enjoy looking or being "weak", but really understanding the emotions he doesn't say out loud will benefit both of you in the long run.
keep the balance in everything—because isagi as understanding and adaptable as he is, still sometimes has a lapse in judgment.
before this gets into angst territory let's stop here. moving on.
is canonly described as poetic in one of exhib dialogues—which means this man is scientifically proven to be cheesy as hell.
sheepish, boyish, cute, sometimes nervous, very boy next door yes. but when he is in the moment, aka the romance flow is kicking, get ready for the most heartfelt, the most sincere profession of love under the sunset. an "i'm glad you are in my life", an "i will happily choose you again", etc.
learn to kick a soccer ball if you can't. 1) good for self-defense; 2) he sometimes brings the ball to sleep and if you don't want it, really think of it as self-defense. (not kidding, check his PWC sprite and that one sleeping anime official art merch)
at first gets bashful at pet names, but if someone makes fun of him—especially during a match—that's just asking for it.
remember his habit of being unable to say "no"? In a very loving manner, it comes back in full force with you. he will spoil the hell out of you even when you don't ask him to. what you want, isagi will get.
you have to be his #1 supporter. because he is yours. sometimes he can give advice and help for you, sometimes he can't. but if anything, he will always be there.
has a soft spot for you smiling while hugging something. in other words, while his gallery is full of your photo with plushies, animals, etc—the number of mirror selfies with the two of you hugging each other is enough to make anyone blink in astonishment.
if someone badmouths you or tries to harrass you, oresagi aka on field persona comes out without any hesitation. and while isagi's appearance doesn't come in the most intimidating form—we have seen him. hold him back, please.
even after everything, is honestly a pretty simple guy who thinks a simple breakfast with you worth much more than expensive dinners. home dates with him is always the coziest thing on earth, no matter whether under a sunny sky or rainy clouds.
when he is dedicated to you, he is dedication itself. certainly still have to do pr and fanservice when he meets some fans in the street, but before he leaves he will always squeeze your hand like asking for permission and he always does it with such efficiency that some of his friends wonder if he is trained to return as quickly as possible to your side. (yeah. isagi values efficiency and like how he wants a goal, he wants to enjoy his date with you.)
comfort hcs tho, when you feel insecure or down in some ways talk to him. he might pick up the bad mood but he isn't the type to try and overstep when you don't want to tell him. and as said before, he is a really good listener who is always there for you, so it will really do you good.
sometimes protest but he loves it when you play with his hair one way or another. ruffle it, pat it, style it—do as you wish. bonus if you are in front of him, in his lap, in the comfort of your shared abode. clingy isagi coming out again.
he hugs in the same way he kisses. they are long and heartfelt. one could use "passionate" to describe them, if it isn't for a certain chaste-esque mannerism that is almost always there.
the only time it is not is when the two of you are in private but because this is a family account. not going there.
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yuanology · 10 months
Text
geto suguru is willing to lose a lot of things, but he has never been willing to lose you. you're the one thing he can't afford to see leaving, the one person in his life he wishes he could have brought with him when he turned over to the new side.
but he didn't. you left, and he watched you leave.
still, it doesn't stop him from yearning for you—for your presence, for your touch, for the person you used to be to him. he never finds another lover after you, far too hung up on what you were to fall in love again. he tried sleeping around the first few months but ultimately gave up when he realized none of them will ever once compare to you.
so he stops trying. stops trying to get anyone but you because no substitute can satiate him the way you do.
and somehow, by some miracle, he gets you.
suguru is convinced that you must be doing it for the greater good—a mission assigned to him by yaga, most likely, telling you to infiltrate suguru's plans by using his old fondness for you against him. your approach must be part of a deliberate plan, one that has been planned and carefully measured throughout the years. suguru isn't a fool, he sees right through it.
unfortunately for yaga, however, he has underestimated the sheer extent of what he is willing to do for you. to give up information in hopes that you'll stay with him for the night is nothing compared to the numbers he would pile up just for you, to the worlds he would burn down to have a future with you by his side. everything you ask, he'll give as long as you stay with him just a bit longer, as long as you kiss him and hold him as if he still matters to you, as if he's still loved by you.
"good boy, suguru." there it is, the sound of his given name flowing smoothly off his tongue after so long. suguru moans at the sound alone, his body trembling. your breath fans against his nape, just above where your hand is pressing his face into the mattress. suguru's breath comes out in short, desperate pants as he leans into your touch, hips raised and ass in display just for you.
your fingers are buried deep inside him, the squelching sounds echoing through the room. he's rented out a room for tonight, a middle-ground in which business exchanges can run through smoothly. suguru glances to his left, where a massive mirror is propped up. through it, he can see the way you're holding him up, half your fist disappearing into his hole. you're still wearing most of your clothes, only your shirt having been unbuttoned all the way through and it's now hanging onto your frame. you look beautiful like this, you always have, and suguru can't breathe at the sight of you.
suguru himself looks like a cheap whore this way, naked in contrast to your mostly dressed state, his mouth hanging agape and his eyes glassy, hair a mess all over the mattress and his legs spread open without a care in the world. he doesn't care, though, because you called him a good boy. suguru can be your good boy all you want as long as you keep doing this to him, keep holding him and fucking into him like you care.
when you pull your fingers out, he whines so loud that you have to pepper soft kisses all over the expanse of his back, murmuring sweet nothings against his skin. it's irrational, he knows, but he's already halfway to being fucked out of his mind that he doesn't care. suguru will never have you the way he used to have you, whole and unburdened, but he has you now, he doesn't want to lose any more of you than he has to.
"please," he sobs. please don't leave me, he means.
feeling your hand on his hips, a gentle balm soothing the scalding hurt building in his chest, suguru lets out another ruined sound. "i know, sweetheart." you're so soft with him, so gentle in taking care of him, that suguru can close his eyes and pretend that you're still okay. "let me take care of you, okay? trust me."
"okay," he rasps out because there's no question in that. he lets his head fall onto the pillows, shoulders flexing to soothe the tension there as he slips into a relaxed state on the bed. he trusts you. he trusts you so much that he would let you do anything to him. "i trust you."
you're especially gentle with him this time around, he realizes once you're sloppily thrusting into him, the head of your cock always fucking against his prostate rather than teasing him with each fuck. you don't loiter, but you always linger. your hands wander all over his skin, keeping him close to you. you're draped over his back, heartbeat pounding against the skin on his back.
tomorrow morning, you will go back to being enemies. you'll leave at the first sign of dawn, carrying an envelope with you containing all of your pre-agreed information. suguru will have to allow himself losses so that he'll have more of you some night some weeks, maybe some months, from now. tomorrow, this will all end and you'll break his heart a thousand times over in exchange for all the times he has ruined you by leaving. tomorrow, geto suguru will lose you again.
but for now, he is in your arms, reaching high after high under your gentle ministrations, and geto suguru, for however long this moment can suspend for, is loved by you.
( and when he slips into unconsciousness at the end of the night, not forgetting to slur out a weak, thank you as he does, he swears he doesn't imagine the way you press your lips against his hairline; as tender as it used to be when he could still call himself yours. a ghost of a lover in this haunted room. )
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kentopedia · 7 months
Note
if we're asking for nanami thoughts then i just wanna know how he'd act if you came home llate from a mission or work jwjbsbs i need this rn
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SAFE & SOUND — nanami kento
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contents: gn!reader 🤍 heheh i didn't mean to write a whole little drabble but i cannot resist something like this ! sfw & a little bit of angst for kicks and giggles — 700
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given the nature of being a sorcerer, nanami can't help but get worried when you're running late. he watches the clock tick, minute after minute passing while you still haven't answered his calls.
he's nervous, of course he's nervous. but he doesn't want to be annoying. he knows you can take care of yourself, knows you're strong and capable; and he doesn't want to seem like an overprotective boyfriend. even if it terrifies him that he can't get a hold of you.
instead, he'll just wait for your response, pace the apartment with his phone in his hands and pretend like everything's fine.
kento tries to stay calm. but 45 minutes have passed, and you still haven't answered him.
he's not usually an anxious man, not usually one to let his emotions get the best of him; but his palms are sweaty, his hands shaky, and he can't remember the last time he's felt so on edge.
the dinner he made earlier is already cold, even his own, which he can't bring himself to eat now.
kento's beginning to wonder if he needs to start making calls. there's no need for him to overreact, not when he hasn't been informed that your mission went awry. perhaps satoru knows where you are, shoko, one of the students.
or maybe not. if he doesn't get an answer soon, he'll consider going out after you.
he waits for ten more minutes. the seconds drag on and on.
kento's finger hovers over gojo's contact name. he contemplates.
but the door unlocks just before he can click it, and you're stepping through the threshold, shaking off your coat like nothing's wrong. your hair's a little wind-blown, but otherwise, kento can't spot anything off about you. there's no noticeable wounds, no pain in your expression other than exhaustion.
he's to you in just a few steps, dropping his phone back on the table to take you into his arms. you don't even have time to take your shoes off before he's crushing you to his chest, a heavy hand on the back of your head, pressing it near his heart.
you can hear it hammering in his ribcage, an erratic rhythm that makes guilt flower in your stomach. already, you feel so horrible, you'd been in such a rush to get home.
"kento," you say softly, apologetically, and he swallows, kissing your forehead. he's trying to pretend like nothing's wrong, like he wasn't just scared out of his mind, but you can see right through it. "i didn't mean to worry you."
it doesn't take a genius to realize he'd been afraid, not with the way he can't take his hands off of you.
he breathes, kisses the top of your head. "you didn't call me back."
"my phone died. i didn't get the chance to." you feel so, so awful, especially since you know that this has always been his greatest fear.
time after time, he's lived while other sorcerers die, and you know, even if he doesn't tell you, that he's just waiting for it to be you next. for it to be you lying on that steely table, leaving kento all alone, hardened to the world, perhaps forever.
"i'm so, so sorry, kento," you say, pressing your hand against his chest, feeling as the rhythm of his heartbeat dies down. "i was going to call you back as soon as i finished the mission, and then–"
"shh," he squeezes you tight once more, reassuring, "it's okay. it's not your fault, sweetheart."
"i should've been more prepared." your features pinch together. "i should've charged my phone before i left."
"it's okay," kento says again, and you're not sure when you became the one that's being consoled. "the important thing is that you're home safe and sound."
you swallow down your guilt, kissing his collarbone, the closest part of him that you can get your lips on. "i don't like worrying you."
finally, kento pulls away. you can see the distress that's slowly fading, the way his hands stop their nervous shaking. he brushes a piece of hair away from your face, smiling softly. the expression is almost sad, but there's so much love there, so much affection that you ache.
"well there's nothing we can do about that," he says, kissing your forehead before slinging an arm over your shoulder. "i worry about you all the time."
you open your mouth to argue, but it dies quickly. your rebuttal is futile, hypocritical. you worry about him just as much.
"i'm going to be just fine," you tell him as he leads you to the kitchen, where the cold food is sitting there, waiting. "i'll always make it home to you."
he smiles, and squeezes your hand once. "i sure hope so."
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eternallovers65 · 3 months
Text
IMPORTANT QSMP DISC0RSE PLEASE READ ‼️‼️‼️‼️
Okay, for those who don't know, the last two days (even tho we have been complain for months) have been absolute hell for the Brazilian community, to the point that a lot of us are agreeing to drop the community as a whole, saying we will only watch our favorite Brazilian streams and that's it; we no longer want to interact or be a part of this server
The Brazilian QSMP Twitter community has been complaining about the fact that the Carnaval event, something that's ours and our creators were excited to share with the rest of the world, wouldn't have our creators be a part of it because of the time. We were complaining because we absolutely have the right to, since, as I said before, it's our culture, the most significant event in our country.
Because of that, a lot of international fans, and it hurts to say this, Latino ones, decided to make mass hate xenophobic tweets about us and our creators. Tweets that vary from saying we should be thankful Quackity invited us because no one knew about the Brazilian streamers (when actually the reality is we have about 8 Brazilian streamers as the most-watched streamers in LATAM) to saying Cellbit, Mike, or Pac should kill themselves, and finally, to bringing back the past relationship Cellbit had with his ex-girlfriend.
Because people who had no idea of the story caused a massive hate towards Cellbit and his girlfriend. So his ex-girlfriend used this opportunity to accuse him of a crime and later deleted the tweet, but the damage had already been done.
So international fans decided to use that as a way to be xenophobic towards us, calling us monkeys and many other racist things, plus mass reporting Cellbit to the point where he had to issue a response. I'll leave the English and Spanish translations here because it's something you all need to read, and beware because of the trigger warning.
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The point is, we Brazilians are tired of this community. It no longer feels safe for us. It no longer feels fun for us, and it's absolutely ridiculous that a server that was created upon meeting and embracing new cultures would be so hurtful to us. And it hurts us a lot more, seeing as most of the hate is coming from Latinos themselves (especially toxic fans from quackity's community). French people have been the ones to defend us constantly, when our own neighbors have been nothing but racists to us.
I hope Quackity does something about this because we have been complaining for months, but he continues to be quiet about it, doesn't call out his fans, and pretends nothing is happening we will drop out of this server, even cc's commented how exhausting it is for us. This project was supposed to bring people together, but so far, we have been dealing with a lot of xenophobia, and we are tired.
I know this is more of a Twitter problem since everyone here is chill (even tho i have already seen some xenophobia in here), but I just wanted to fill you guys in on the news. And for those who watch Cellbit, we don't know when the next stream will be since he was just forced to talk about his sexuality and abuse. Please shower him with a lot of love and positive messages. For you guys to have any idea, he's trending #1 in Brazil, and even though the entire country used to hate him because of his ex-girlfriend's lies, everyone is apologizing and saying he's an incredible person.
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