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#yes this ends abruptly sorry
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They all sort of… paired off, after the war. Not, like, exact pairs — maybe more like groups. Shiro reunited with Adam. The two of them bought a house far the fuck away from the Garrison and everything associated with it. Hunk and Pidge paired off, both pursuing their doctorates like the smartypants they were and are. Allura, Coran, and Romelle stayed on Earth for a bit, but all three of them ached for the comfort of home, and returned to New Altea eventually.
That left Lance and Keith.
Well, not really. Originally Lance assumed it meant he was left alone to try and reconnect with the family he’d grown away from — a family he loved and still loves with every fibre of his being, but the family that he couldn’t quite… click with, anymore. He’s changed, they’d changed, and he wasn’t sure where he fit. He’d been scared, although he wouldn’t admit it.
Keith had been the one to approach him, actually. Asked Lance if he’d want to move in with him.
“You’re not moving in with Shiro and Adam?”
Keith snorted. “Absolutely not. They have retired into a little home on the prairies, or whatever. I have some respect for my ears and so I will not be moving in to the constant background noise of my brother having regular honeymoon sex, or whatever.”
It was a joke. He’d meant for Lance to laugh. But the shock was still ringing through his head; laughter was the furthest thing from his mind.
“With the Alteans, then, to New Altea?”
“Nope.”
“The Blades, with your mother?”
“I’ve had enough of the Blade of Marmora, I think. I liked it there, but I don’t really want to do it for the rest of my life. Besides, I actually missed Earth. I didn’t realise how pretty it was here ‘til I left.”
“…Oh.”
And it has been fine, for the first few days. Awkward, but fine. It had been like having a roommate, really — not that Lance knew what that was like, but he could wager a guess. They made schedules, divvied up chores, occasionally hung out on the couch.
It came out of nowhere, Lance’s hurt. Well, not really nowhere. It had to come out sometime. But it had seemed so random, then. Lance had pushed the hurt down so far for so long it was almost unrecognisable, but then there it was: for the first time in as long as he could remember, Lance wanted everyone else to ache as badly as he did. To writhe, to suffer. He wanted Pidge to feel stupid. He wanted Hunk to feel abandoned. He wanted Shiro to feel small, for Allura to feel dismissed and second-rate. He wanted them to hurt for every pain they’d made him feel. He’d wanted Keith, especially, to feel hated. He’d wanted Keith to feel like he was lesser and a burden and unloved and forgotten.
Lance wanted to be cruel. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, so he went silent.
Keith noticed, because of course he did. They didn’t talk to many other people, the two of them. He’d left it, at first. Lance didn’t know what Keith assumed was going on, but he’d smiled at Lance more and left it at that. After a week of Lance’s silence, though, he’d started to get a little pushy.
“Hey, you okay? We haven’t talked in a while.”
Lance kept his eyes on the task in front of him, scrubbing the plate a little harder.
“Which is weird,” Keith continued, “because we literally live together. Super weird, actually. Unlikely, even.”
The plate cracked in Lance’s hand, porcelain shatters embedding themselves into his palm. The water turned pink.
“Jesus, Lance, what happened?” Keith rushed forward, grabbing a clean dishtowel and reaching for Lance’s arm.
Lance flinched.
Keith froze.
“…Lance?”
Lance swallowed. He drained the soiled water, carefully scooping out the broken pieces to discard, but a pale hand reached over again, slowly this time. Hesitantly. Lance forced himself to stay still, even as he felt bile rising up his throat. Forced himself to keep his fists from clenching, so the shards didn’t get any deeper. Forced himself to breath.
“Let me get it,” Keith said softly.
He didn’t want to. He didn’t want Keith’s help, Keith’s gentleness. He didn’t need it anymore. He had needed it, then, needed Keith’s gentleness and care and love and smile and embrace but he didn’t fucking get it, then, not when he needed it, not when he was gasping and drowning for it, so why the fuck would he take it now? Why would he take Keith’s offered hand, now, when his heart had moved on?
His jaw ached, strained with the need to yell the words. To spit them in Keith’s face.
Where were you? He wanted to yell. Where were you when I was suffering? When I was dying? When I was begging the sun to shine and it rained on me as I lay drowning? Where was your hand, then? Your saving grace?
But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. So he dried his hands, swallowed the lump in his throat, and walked away.
———
It would have been one thing if he was declining calls. But it really ached that his phone was drier than the desert. Now that he wasn’t calling, wasn’t reaching out to the people that were supposed to be one with him, they’d dropped him. Were they even thinking of him? Was he even on their radar? Did they talk to each other, and was Lance the odd one out?
He hoped they still thought about him, even occasionally. It was too painful to think otherwise. It was stupid to feel the pain, anyway, to wish they called even though Lance knows damn well he wouldn’t answer. He’s still furious with each and every one of them, although the hurt is starting to overcome to anger.
Part of the ache is that he doesn’t really… do much. They’re not allowed to accept jobs, not for another four months. They had psych evals, after that final battle, all of ‘em. Apparently they each had PTSD, and until they were ‘appropriately settled into a civilian life’, it was ‘unfair to both them and their employer to expect regular labour’. Why they weren’t allowed to do some freelance stuff or whatever, Lance didn’t know, but it meant a lot of time wasting away in his room. He’d tried helping the relief effort, and he’d done that for a while, but he’d had a couple… episodes. Maybe he was a little affected by the war, the Omega Shield in particular. Whatever. What he does know is that he’d become very well-acquainted with the insides of his eyelids. He can’t remember the last time he was awake for longer than six consecutive hours.
There’s a knock at the door. Lance doesn’t even bother taking the pillow off his head.
“Lance?” Keith calls.
Lance doesn’t acknowledge him. Even if he had the energy, he hasn’t talked to Keith in five months. He hasn’t talked to anyone in five months, not even his mamá. He doubts his voice even works, anymore.
Keith sighs heavily. “I’m going to see your mother,” he says. “She invited us both for dinner again. She’s worried about you. So am I. You coming? She’s making garlic knots.” The last sentence is coaxing, singsong. Lance wonders when Keith’s patience is going to give out. He’s surprised he’s even lasted this long. He wonders what he’s gonna do when Keith finally quits. Breaks the lease, packs his bags. Leaves Lance again.
Maybe it’s not fair for Lance to be angry at Keith for something he’s not even done, yet. But Lance is tired. Too tired for nuance.
Keith leaves without him.
———
The most action Lance gets, any day of the week, is timing when Keith is out of the house, because then he can go eat. (Does he eat every day? Probably. Maybe. Honestly, he’s not sure. Time kind of blurs. He eats when he’s so hungry he can’t sleep, and showers when he convinces himself he should.) He’s gotten pretty good at it, actually. He’s so tuned in to Keith’s footsteps that they actually wake him up, because his body knows that it’s the only time it’s moving.
(Lance does know, objectively, that he’s killing himself. He knows it. He feels it in the frailty of his bones, the bags under his eyes even though he does nothing but sleep. In the way his mouth always feels gross because he rarely makes himself brush his teeth. In the way he’s running out of things he cares about, reasons to stay alive.)
That’s probably why he perks up now, hearing the footsteps approach his door. He’s a little angry at himself for the perking up in question, but whatever. Who cares. Keith is going to talk to him vaguely through the door and give up, and then Lance can go back to sleep, and then Lance can stop thinking about it.
Keith’s not talking to him through the door. He’s also not leaving. In fact, the only sound Lance hears is the jiggling of the handle.
Lance blinks. He sits up. Every joint cracks, because he hasn’t moved in a very long time.
Oh no.
The door swings open, revealing Keith in all his glory, holding a pillow and a blanket and looking very, very determined. He walks over to Lance’s bed and shoves him a little, albeit gently. Lance bites back an incredulous ‘what the fuck do you think you’re doing’. Keith either does not notice or care, throwing his pillow beside Lance’s and crawling on the bed. He fluffs the blanket over both of them, and Lance tells himself that he does not care.
“We’re watching a movie,” Keith says firmly, “like we did when we first moved in. And we are perhaps going to even chat, but no pressure. Mostly you’re going to do something that isn’t being unconscious, and we’re going to do it together.”
Lance takes a moment to process that. Mostly he feels nothing. Whatever. Keith can do what he wants. Lance will just wait until Keith gets bored and then go back to sleep.
But another part of him reminds him of the pain Keith caused. The hurt he felt.
Not now, Lance.
I just don’t want to spend eternity with Lance.
The rage lights the fire back into his heart. The molten lava of his pain spreads throughout his veins, and he tenses. The words crawl up his throat. He shoves them down.
“We’re watching Barbie Pegasus, because you love that movie.”
Lance shoves the words down.
“And then you’re going to call your mother.”
He shoves them down.
“And then we’re going to do a face mask.”
Down.
“I was gonna bring snacks, but we don’t have any of that pink-coated popcorn you like and I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while, actually, so the fridge is kind of barren.”
Down.
“Uh, that’s it for plans. I’ll be honest, I kind of stormed in here with very little forethought.”
“Why do you care now?”
The words burst out of him. He can do nothing to stop them, nor can he stop the tears.
Keith startles. “You talked,” he breathes. He sounds awed. “Like, really. With your mouth and vocal chords.”
Lance ignores him. “You said you didn’t want me,” he says. He tastes salt and acid. “You said you wanted to be away from me eternity. You think I am annoying. You only want to live with me because you have no other options. You don’t love me. The rest of the team stopped loving me months ago. My family mourned me, they don’t need me anymore. I don’t — I don’t know why you’re here. Why are you still here? Why — I don’t know. I don’t understand! I want to hate you! You hurt me, you hurt every part of me! You broke my fucking heart, Keith, and you don’t seem sorry and I don’t know what to do with the pieces, now.”
Lance doesn’t look at Keith. He can’t. He clenches the blanket Keith brought in his fists, watching the grey of the fabric get blurrier and blurrier as the tears build and drop from his eyes.
“Lance.”
Lance swallows.
“Lance, look at me.”
Keith sounds like he’s begging. Lance sobs.
“I’m so lost, Keith. I’m so — lost.”
“Oh, Lance.” Keith reaches out for him. Lance doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t reach back. He sits there. Keith doesn’t seem to mind. He wraps a solid arm around Lance’s waist, dragging him closer. He turns Lance around once he’s close enough, pressing his face into his neck. This time, Lance goes willingly.
He’s still mad. He’s still hurt. His heart still aches and he doesn’t know how to feel.
But it’s been so long since he’s been held. Weeks. Months. (Years, really. It stopped in space, the affection. Everyone got busy, and then got tired. He doesn’t even remember if he hugged his sisters, when they got back, or if there was too much to worry about.)
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Keith whispers. His hands run gently through Lance’s probably gross hair. “I didn’t realize. I didn’t think about how much I was hurting you, how much you were already hurt. I was scared. Everything was changing for me, I was stressed, I was supposed to lead people I didn’t know had to lead.” He sighs. He presses a kiss to Lance’s head. “I failed you, Lance. I’m sorry.”
Lance sobs again. It’s been… so long, since someone apologized. Since someone cared about his pain. It’s — soothing. Cold water running over his skin, cooling the burns. He clutches Keith tighter.
Maybe things will be okay.
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The wonderful Guardian Bingo Fest mods put 'lollipops' on my card and my brain went 'ah yes let's be as weird as possible about this'.
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Bonus photo for anyone risking pressing on a read more on one of my posts. You're safe from me rambling for once.
Zhao Yunlan has company now! ☺️
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justcallmecappy · 1 year
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @sillyliterature, thank you for the tag! 🥰 So sorry this is a bit late, I was waiting for an actual Wednesday to post it 😆
I intended for this piece to be called 'Turn and Face the Tiger' and it was meant to explore this 'tiger motif' between Anders and Fenris, but I never got around to finishing it 😅
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The first time Anders learns about tigers, he is twelve years old, and crying because he misses his mother. A kindly enchanter brings the homesick apprentice to the Circle library and shows him a picture book to distract him.
“See?” the enchanter says, hands running across illustrated sheets of vellum. One whole page is taken up an illustration of a big red cat, bigger than a horse, with garish black stripes running down its body like great claw marks. “This is called a tiger. Big cats, living in the misty jungles of Seheron.”
Young Anders’ sobs quieten. He stares at the picture – the tiger has its fangs bared mid-snarl, teeth as long and sharp as daggers, claws out and swiping at attacking soldiers with spears. A knight lies trampled under its paws.
“A big cat?” Anders whispers. It’s the first few words he’s spoken in weeks. The enchanter smiles encouragingly.
“Yes! Isn’t it scary? There’s a lot of scary things in the big, wide world. Aren’t you glad you are here in the tower now, where you are protected and safe?”
Anders doesn’t answer. He takes the book from the enchanter’s hands, and places it in his small lap. He begins to read about tigers, and the hot, misty jungles where they live. They run free in his mind, and whenever he has to block out the sights and sounds of the tower – the muffled sobbing of apprentices at night, the sounds of lashings echoing up from the dungeons, the templars looming and leering over him, the weight of their stares penetrating from within the darkness of their helmets – he imagines tigers running ferociously and brightly through the forest, unfettered and free, beholden to nothing and no one.
Years later, he doodles in the margins of a book he is meant to be researching. A tiger attacks and devours a squadron of templars.
He names it Ser Pounce-a-Lot.
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“Were there any tigers on Seheron?”
Fenris is surprised at the question. He turns around, and sees the mage sitting by the fire.
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fairyofshampgyu · 6 months
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Super shy !
genre: smut, baker au, college au, crack
Pairing: shy loser virgin bakery worker ! soobin x college customer ! reader
Warnings: sub soobin, dom reader, clubbing, loss of virginity, riding, hand job, titty groping (can’t be a Soobin smut without him being obsessed with boobies be fr), premature ejaculation,
word count: 2.9k
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As soon as you stepped into the newly established campus bakery, walking up to the counter and observing all the pastries, contemplating for a rather long time before you end up deciding on what you’d usually order anyway, Soobin couldn’t help feeling like his world got totally turned upside down. The sight of you rendering him completely speechless and unable to even think.
Time seemingly going by so slow like in the kdramas as your shiny hair majestically blows in the non existent wind inside, smile brightening up the entire bakery. He could practically see the roses blooming around your face like in the mangas. Was this love at first sight?!
Realistically, no.
But were you incredibly attractive to him and a breath of fresh air to the moody, stressed out college students that purchase a single coffee and stay for hours completing assignments with their backs concerningly hunched over? Hell yes.
And unfortunately for Soobin, he does not do well with pretty people. At all. Not realising you had even ordered, too in awe and preoccupied with taking in all your features until he’s snapped back to reality with the clearing of your throat and he can already feel his cheeks burning up horribly fast. Oh god. He really, really hopes it’s not evident right now.
“S-sorry…What did you say?” He begins apologising profusely to you, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes, staring off more to the side. This was definitely not his best customer service.
With a chuckle, you brush it off and state your order again, “I said could I have the strawberry swirl cheesecake please?” If Soobin could look at himself in third person, he would so be face palming right now. Or better yet, maybe he could just go up and like, punch himself straight up or something for acting like such a loser.
“Ah right... That’s ₩7500. Cash or card?”
You pay with cash and Soobin, very nervously, fumbles around to garner the right amount of change to hand you, though doing it in the most awkward way possible and his palm makes direct contact with yours as he hands the money, making him blush even more and let out a small obvious gasp at the feeling of your soft hand. Oh my god. Why did he do that?! He really hopes you didn’t find that weird.
You only let out another chuckle, thanking him before you’re leaving the bakery in an elegant manner and Soobin is left to sigh and watch your back disappear. Damn it. He’ll probably never see you again. You were so pretty and so cute, too cute even-
“You’re such a virgin.”
His thoughts about you are abruptly dissipated by his coworker and unfortunately best friend, Choi Beomgyu who gives him the stupidest, most annoying grin he would definitely like to slap off his face right now.
“Just shut up.” Soobin grimaces and rolls his eyes at beomgyu, bringing a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind him and placing them into the display glass one by one.
"You’re pinker than the strawberry macarons we sell. That's saying something." Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him with sass.
So does that mean you could see how flustered he was getting then? Oh no! Soobin clears his throat and narrows his eyes at beomgyu anyway. “Am not.”
“Are too! Anyway, all I’m saying is that interaction was painful to watch. You’re really giving pathetic, loser, virgin right now. I cant lie.” Beomgyu attempts to stifle in one of his obnoxious laughs.
Soobin is quick to snap back, "You've only ever slept with one person!"
"S-so!! At least im not a virgin!" Beomgyu’s cheeks also become the equivalent to the strawberry macarons as he scrambles to try and defend himself, brows furrowed and cheeks puffed.
“Well, the concept of a virgin is purely societal anyway. It doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t mean anything really.” Soobin bitterly replies, continuing to work whilst his counterpart does completely nothing like most of the time. It's usually soobin that does work, remind him not to agree to beomyu's silly ideas of getting a job together ever again.
Beomgyu scoffs and snickers at this, "Whatever. You’re just saying all that to make yourself feel better because you’re a loser. LMAO"
"I’ll punch you right now."
"Then we'll both be fired~”
A poor customer still awaits at the counter to be served, standing in bewilderment and tiredness. Waiting for the two bakers to finish bickering and sighing as they don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.
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Soobin doesn’t expect to see you again, in complete honesty, he’s almost forgotten you even exist after you never come again. But he’s in luck and more than pleasantly surprised when he hears the bell to the door go ding!, indicating a customer had walked in. He looks up from the cake he was decorating and in comes you looking cuter than the first time he saw you. He tries not to mess up the cake and he stands up straight almost instantly when he sees you, waiting for you to order and trying to remain calm.
You laugh and point at his cute nose when you come up to the counter. “You have like, icing all on your nose.”
“O-oh. I do?” He points at himself and you nod in reply. He feels himself going redder by the minute. He must look so stupid right now! And he urgently brings his sleeve up and tries to wipe the icing off his nose to not make himself look an even more of a complete fool in front of you .
“Ah wait no. Let me do it!” You lean over the counter as you see him struggling and wipe it off the top of his cute bunny like nose instead for him.
And that was the end of soobin. The end.
-
You become a regular at the bakery and soobin becomes a regular of embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself each time he sees you. He really doesn’t think he can top the previous comedic disaster that occurs when you enter, yet he always proves himself wrong, the awkwardness reaching new heights each time. From dropping trays of pastries, spilling drinks, nearly slipping in front of you, giving you a ₩50000 note when it was only ₩5000 change, the list goes on and on. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t lost his job yet.
And there’s also always a disappointed beomgyu shaking his head afterwards ready to make fun of him when Soobin promises to make a move but freezes every time you’re in sight, too much of a pussy.
“I’m calling an intervention.” Beomgyu declares and sighs after the nth time of soobin making absolutely no moves on you whatsoever, “Soobin, my man, my bro, you desperately need to get banged. It’s painful seeing the way you act. Your little crush is not gonna like you with the way you act. That’s it. We’re going clubbing tonight after this shift. No buts.”
“But-”
“I said no buts!”
“You know I hate clubbing.”
“You’ve never even been with me despite my constant pleads.” Beomgyu shakes his head and makes a dramatic pained face at his way.
“So? I know I’ll hate it.”
“You’re such a hater bro.”
“Yes I am. And I take pride in it. I’m a hater of everything.”
Beomgyu just sighs. He was utterly hopeless.
Unfortunately, there was no way Soobin could get out of this because beomgyu was having absolutely none of his protests and excuses and that’s how he ends up finding himself at the club anyway after his shift, sitting off to the side as he watches beomgyu disappear somewhere into the crowd. Soobin sighs as he downs his jack and coke. This was going to be a long fucking night.
-
In the dimly lit club, soobin’s discomfort was palpable, like a fish out of water and you noticed instantly upon arrival. It’s that cute tall baker boy who always serves you! You excitedly make your way and sit next to him, he looked a little lonely. “Hey! You work at that bakery on campus. I go there!”
Soobin’s eyes nearly fall out of his sockets at the sight of you sitting next to him and he nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters on his straw and nods. Act calm, act calm, act calm, act calm. Act cool and mysterious.
It’s you! You’re speaking to him?!
“So…these things not really your scene, huh?”
“Gee. How did you ever notice?” Soobin attempts to smile and joke with dry humour but it executes a little more awkward and nervous than how he would have liked.
You also try to carry on the conversation since this is the first time you’ve got to ever actually talk to the cute boy before. “I’m very intuitive. I can just sense things like that.”
He laughs at that too, feeling a bit more comfortable around you now. “No but yeah, I’d much rather be at home right now sleeping. Can’t say I’m much of an advocate for getting stupidly drunk with sweaty people you don’t even know with terrible rave music and flashing lights that should have an epilepsy warning”
“I get it.” You chuckle at how passionate he gets talking about how much he hates clubbing, frown on his cute face. “So why are you here then?”
“Friend wanted me to. Said I needed to finally get laid or whatever.” Soobin rolls his eyes and sips on his drink again, motioning his head to the direction of beomgyu on the dance floor, clearly drunk off his ass now.
“Oh, you’re a Virgin?”
Soobin’s ears go red when he realises what he said to you. “O-oh um y-yeah I guess…”
“Are you waiting for like marriage or the right person or something?” You question, genuinely surprised. He was tall and very attractive and it was rare for college boys to not hook up every single night these days.
“God no. Just never happened. I don’t really care for things like that. It’s probably overhyped anyway and doesn’t even feel that good. Like porn is highly unrealistic anyway.”
“You think so?” You chuckle at him and he nods, continuing to cutely sip on his drink with his straw. “Well maybe you should to try it out first and see for yourself.” Your words start to become a little flirty as you grow more confident talking with him and also because of the alcohol making you slightly tipsy now. “Sorry, but do you want to get out of here?”
“Yes please.” Soobin’s eyes widen even more at your suggestion and he’s more than happy to get out of here with you especially.
“Umm your friend is a bit….out of it right now.” You watch beomgyu drunk from afar, whipping his long hair back and forth claiming to everyone around he’ll be able to do it fast enough to lift off his feet and fly like a helicopter.
“He’ll be…he’ll be fine I’m sure”
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Soobin has no idea what good stuff he must have done in his past life to get to this moment right now, in your room, making out with you, in your bed. Did he mention making out? With you?! The customer he’s been crushing on for months?! Holy, he might hyperventilate right now. It all feels like a dream. Is this real right now?
You cup his cheek and move into his lap, continuing to move your lips against his and soobin’s ears and face are all flushed, breathing loud of enough for you to hear and he looks all nervous and a little shaky.
You stop kissing him but he chases after your lips still and you stroke his cheek, “Are you okay Soobin?”
He’s only able to nod, lips parted and eyes all glazed over. He’s so out of it just from making out with you it’s crazy. But so cute too.
“C-can you…can we…just want…”
“What do you want, baby?” You chuckle and stroke his cheek as he manages to utter some words. The petname only makes his head go even more haywire.
“W-want you…”
“What do you want me to do?” You giggle and coo at him.
He shyly shows you the boner he’s had this entire time. You can’t believe he got a boner just from some kissing. “Can you-will you touch me…please? Need it…” He pleads at you nervously, so red in the face.
“Are you sure?”
He nods his head exceptionally fast and you begin to unbuckle his jeans as he watches you take his flushed and hard dick out, breathing only becoming heavier. Damn, you didn’t think he’d be that big.
You take him into your hands and his mouth his already agape, gasping when you slowly start to stroke him.
You pump his big cock at a steady pace so as not to overwhelm him too much, though twisting and thumbing at the tip occasionally that has him drooling at the corner of his mouth and beads of precum dribbling out heavily from his cock. It’s endearing how far gone he is just at you stroking his dick slow, shy whimpers and other noises eliciting from his mouth.
You unbutton you shirt with your other hand as you continue to pump him and his eyes go crazed at the sight of your tits, you guiding his own big inexperienced hands to grope at them and he does, slumping his head into your neck and shoulder moaning into it and still groping and squeezing at your tits.
With a sudden yelp you feel Soobin’s cum spurt up and leak into your hands, his eyes rolling back as he whimpers continuously from his premature orgasm.
He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder yet, too embarrassed to face you but he eventually does, eyes still half lidded, trying to catch his breath and he’s hard again. “W-will you fuck me? Please please please. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you, please?” He practically begs, still panting out.
“Are you really sure, Soobin? With me?”
“Yes please! Only want you.”
You study his face for any hesitancy but it’s clear he’s so set on wanting you to fuck him. So you wrap your hands around both his wrists and bring him to lay down on your pillows instead, you still straddling his lap.
When you’ve undressed your lower half, you bring his dick and slide it over your entrance a few times, he moans out loud, hands coming up shyly to cover his face and then you sink down incredibly slowly on his massive length . Soobin’s jaw drops and breath hitches at the feeling of his dick finally in your warm pussy, a strangled moan ripping out of him. He could seriously cum just from being in you right now, but he tries so hard not to or you’ll be disappointed and he doesn’t want to see you disappointed or embarrass himself even more.
“You good, baby?”
“M’ f-fine. Just-Just need a minute.” Soobin shakes out.
You take his hands away from his face and lean down to softly kiss him instead, trying to calm him down and he effuses into your mouth, kissing back passionately with his eyes closed.
“I’m ready now…” He pulls away after a while and looks you in the eyes.
So you start to slowly move, riding him, going up and down on his virgin dick. Soobin’s mouth hangs open in endless moans and gasps and whimpers, face buried into your pillow to the side and his hair all messy now. Whole body flushed and shaking underneath you.
“Better than you thought, baby?” You grunt out, bouncing on top of his cock.
“So much better. O-oh my god, f-fuck…ah!” So maybe sex wasn’t overhyped after all. Because goddamn, you feel so fucking good. Maybe it was just you. But Soobin truly feels like he’s gliding on fluffy clouds right now. All the times he’s touched himself not even coming close to how he feels right now stuffed in your pussy as you fuck him, watching mesmerised as your tits bounce with each movement. He could die here right now in full contentment. Oh how he was so wrong.
It’s not long at all before Soobin can’t hold it anymore. His hips bucking up and breath hitching as a loud strangled mewl tumbles out of his mouth and you feel hot cum fill you up suddenly that makes you still your movements on him. He lets out a long slurred groan and then goes limp beneath you, eyes closing shut and open as he fades from conscious to not every now and then. Is he really that fucked out?
After a while, he finally somewhat recovers and comes back to you from his high, still panting out and chest rising up and down. He looks up at you with a small shy smile on his lips, arm thrown over his forehead.
“You know I literally only go to the bakery because of how cute and silly you are and how you always make a mess of yourself whenever I walk in” You chuckle and admit, drawing shapes into his chest.
“W-wait you knew I liked you?” Soobin asks, shocked and feeling embarrassed again.
You laugh, “Come on, you made it rather obvious.”
Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)
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A/n: having serious writers block rn but forced myself to write this in practically one sitting (it was so painful) and has not been proof read at all so if it makes no sense I apologise 😭
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ozzgin · 24 days
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Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons
I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.
Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere
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You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”
Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”
He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.
The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."
Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.
"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."
As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.
"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"
He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.
The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.
He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.
"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."
He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.
He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.
Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.
The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.
He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.
After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.
His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.
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mypoisonedvine · 7 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner
note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!
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He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"
He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”
But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.
You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.
"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"
"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."
"We, um... I think we broke up?"
"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.
You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."
"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."
"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."
"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."
"No, but—"
"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."
You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.�� 
“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”
You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.
“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”
“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”
“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.
His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  
Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.
You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”
You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.
“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.
“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”
He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”
That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.
He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.
He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.
“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.
He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  
“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”
His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.
When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  
"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...
"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."
He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."
"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"
"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.
"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"
He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.
The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?
Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.
He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.
You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.
“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”
As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  
But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.
"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."
Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?
"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."
You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.
"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"
You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...
"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."
He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"
The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.
You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”
That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.
“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”
This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…
Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.
He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.
“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”
You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  
You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”
Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.
You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."
You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.
"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."
You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.
Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”
Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.
His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.
“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”
Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.
“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”
You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.
He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”
“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”
“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”
Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.
When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.
“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”
You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.
“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.
“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”
He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  
You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.
“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”
3K notes · View notes
vanteguccir · 2 months
Text
Disgusting food roulette | Matt Sturniolo
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Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N participates in the Disgusting Food Roulette video and ends up having to take care of Matt.
Warning: Feeling sick in the stomach.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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"I really need to participate?" Y/N asked as she ran her eyes over the triplets. She had her hips resting on the table, where various types of food, sweets, and drinks were displayed.
"It'll be cool! And Matt needs the emotional support." Nick joked, lightly patting Matt's right shoulder, who was looking at the food with a disgusted look.
“It’s not like you won’t do well, Y/N.” Chris scoffed, crossing his arms, before looking at the camera. "She is the only person in the world who isn't fussy about any food. Anything you give her, she will eat it."
The girl rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh while shaking her head. It was true that she wasn't fussy about food, but that didn't hold back the shiver that ran up her spine every time she looked at some of the items on the table.
Raw egg? Easy cheese? She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about the taste of them against her tongue.
"As you can see, we have four separate piles of food here. Y/N didn't buy the food of her side since we decided she would participate when we were already at the grocery store." Matt explained while gesturing to the separated piles.
"Exactly, so we bought the food for her." Nick finished with a smirk on his face, arranging the items in a row.
"They put me in a mess, guys. I didn't even know what foods they would buy, now I regret even getting out of bed." Y/N grumbled miserably, helping the boys open all the product packaging.
Nick rolled his eyes at her drama, quickly explaining about the app they would use to choose who would go in turn.
"Let's begin!"
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"Please, don't be me. Please, don't be me." Nick speaks repeatedly with a frown on his face, his right hand over his mouth while his left index finger pressed the screen of his phone.
Y/N let out a laugh at him, also pressing her finger on the screen, along with Chris and Matt. Matt's right arm was around her shoulder as he took deep breaths, trying to calm the strong, disgusting taste that was settling in his mouth.
The girl watched him momentarily from the corner of her eye, checking if he was well within the limit, feeling his hand squeezing her biceps lightly.
Chris's excited scream caught her attention abruptly, her eyes traveling to the screen. Her finger had been chosen to eat the yellow pepper.
She stared at the pepper for a few seconds, the triplets' laughter sounding like a background sound to her ears.
"Wait, isn't that the yellow pepper we use as seasoning?" Y/N asked, taking some steps away from Matt and the boys and finally picking up the food, twirling it between her fingers.
"I don't know. It doesn't matter, just eat it!" Nick pressed, looking at her expectantly.
Matt watched her closely, pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter, supporting his own weight against the table with his left arm.
The girl shrugged. If her theory was right, that was one of her favorite peppers. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit off a small piece, chewing carefully as she felt the taste and burn settle on her tongue.
"Um, not too strong. It's good." Y/N commented, still chewing, swallowing seconds later.
"You're crazy, entirely." Chris shook his head repeatedly, taking steps away from her as if she was mad.
Matt observed her with widened eyes, surprised by her little reaction.
"Put it there." Nick pointed to the counter next to the stove where they were piling up the food they had already eaten, his face showing a disgusting look. "Next!"
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"It's going to be Chris, I can feel it." Y/N muttered, her eyes fixed on the phone as their four index fingers pressed the screen.
The back of Matt's right shoulder was resting against her chest, while her free hand stroked his hair gently. She knew he was about to get sick, so she was trying to stay as close to him as possible.
"Oh no!" Chris shouted, bringing his right hand to his head in a sign of desperation after seeing the result.
"Yes!" Matt celebrated, turning around and hugging Y/N, jumping up and down in place. His sudden movements made her lose her balance, taking them both to the ground.
Y/N had her mouth open and eyes closed as laughter escaped her lips at her boyfriend's euphoria. She couldn't believe his happiness just because he wasn't chosen to eat the yogurt.
Matt screamed in celebration, hugging Y/N tightly. Nick told him to lower his voice due to the hour, but he was completely ignored.
"He is crazy." Chris commented, pointing to the two on the floor as he shook his head, letting out a laugh, momentarily forgetting what he had to eat.
Nick took the camera off the tripod, focusing the lens on the couple, capturing the perfect image of Y/N with her back against the cold floor and Matt with half his body over hers, his arms encircling her torso and his head buried in the curve of her neck, sounds of laughter echoing from there.
Fans would go crazy over that.
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"No!" Matt screamed, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He had been chosen to eat the red pepper.
Y/N winced, her eyes going from her boyfriend to the pepper and back again. Before she could say anything encouraging, Matt picked up the food and bit off half of it.
"Matt! Are you crazy? This is very spicy. Spit it in the trash! Don't swallow it." Y/N yelled, her eyes wide. She put her hands on Matt's shoulders, guiding him to the trash can.
"Spit it out, Matt." Chris repeated, recording his brother's steps with the camera.
Y/N pressed the pedal to the trash can, opening the lid and patting her boyfriend's shoulder as he spat. She bit her lower lip in worry as she noticed his face start to turn red, his eyes filling with tears.
"Oh, baby. Breathe." She asked calmly, guiding him to the front of the table again, her hands resting on his waist, squeezing the covered skin lightly.
"Oh my God, it's so hot." Matt agonized, fanning his face with his right hand. "My lips-"
Chris and Nick laughed at his reaction, taking their fingers to the phone again, wanting to end the video quickly.
"Come on, guys!" Nick called, pushing Y/N's hips with his own - since she was closer to him -, getting her attention.
The girl took Matt's right hand and guided it to the phone, placing him index finger on the screen and then her own, keeping her eyes fixed on her boyfriend's face. Droplets of sweat started to appear on his forehead as his cheeks burned red, and Y/N was ready to get him out of there if necessary.
Chris was chosen next to eat the jelly, and Matt took advantage of the situation to walk around a little, wanting to alleviate the burning sensation in his mouth.
Y/N quickly followed him, helping him drink the water that was still in his hands, despite knowing it wouldn't help much.
"Do you want some milk, my love?" She asked quietly so the camera wouldn't catch it. Matt shook his head, feeling his stomach churn at the thought of adding milk to the horrendous mix of all the things he had eaten.
The boy seemed disoriented, his head hurt, and his tongue burned. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulling the door open and opening his mouth, momentarily exhaling in the cold air, before closing it again.
"Come, love." Y/N pulled him closer to the phone again, intertwining their free hands and squeezing his fingers with her own lightly.
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"Are you okay?" Chris asked, approaching and touching Matt's shoulder. His words sounded worried, even though he was still laughing.
Matt nodded as he drew in puffs of air through his open mouth, a multi-layered piece of colby-jack cheese pressed to his right cheek. Y/N watched him from the side, feeling helpless.
"It's not helping." He shouted, leaning on Nick momentarily and blinking his eyes repeatedly, watching Y/N eat the second to last content.
His heart raced when it was the app's turn to choose who would eat the last item, the raw egg.
"If Matt's chosen, I'll eat for him." Y/N quickly imposed, pressing her finger on the screen and staring intently at it.
"This is not how it works." Chris muttered, bumping his shoulder against hers playfully.
"Fuck the rules." She shrugged, sighing in relief when she saw the app choose Nick.
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"Matt, what was the worst that you ate?" Chris asked, bringing the camera closer to Matt, who was opening the fridge.
The boy ignored him, leaning forward slightly and bringing his mouth under the water filter, taking long sips. Y/N let out a low laugh as she saw Chris frown at not receiving any response, rubbing her boyfriend's back softly.
Matt closed the fridge doors, taking some steps back and resting his arms on the table as he took a deep breath, feeling all the food rise up his throat. He swallowed hard, straightning up and looking at Chris behind the camera, his own eyes filling with tears.
"I'm going to bed." His voice was broken. He turned and walked quickly to his shared room with Y/N, receiving a light slap on the back from Nick.
"Okay, he's going to bed."
Y/N let out a nasal laugh, shaking her head. She quickly walked to the cupboard next to the stove, taking a glass. She opened the fridge, taking a bottle of ice cold water and pouring some milk into the glass, closing the door with her hip.
"I'll take care of him." She told the boys, blowing an air kiss to the lens before walking to their bedroom, balancing the items in her hands, Nick and Chris' voices speaking with the camera falling behind.
The girl turned the door handle with her elbow, slowly entering the room and closing it again behind her back.
Her eyes traveled around momentarily, the lights were off, making it difficult to see anything. She squinted her eyes and quickly found her boy laying on the bed in a fetal position, approaching him in slow steps.
Y/N placed the milk and water on the bedside table and squatted down, resting her arms on the mattress. She brought her right hand to Matt's hair, gently brushing the loose strands out of his eyes. Her fingers caressing his warm skin.
"Honey? What are you feeling?" She asked in a low tone, not wanting to heighten her boyfriend's senses. Her heart sank at the way Matt seemed to be in discomfort, his eyes were closed tightly and his brow was furrowed, his shoulders tense.
"Stomach pain. My tongue is still burning and I'm hot on the insides and cold on the outside." The boy explained, his voice sounding weak followed by him sniffling.
"Come here, baby. Let me help you." Y/N asked gently, standing up from her crouched position and helping Matt sit up slowly.
Her hands grabbed the hem of the black t-shirt that covered his torso, pulling it up slowly, helping him take it off his arms and head, placing it aside on the mattress to fold later.
Y/N quickly grabbed the air conditioning remote that was next to the items she brought, turning it on and setting it to 18°C. Not so cold, but refreshing.
She put the remote back in place and picked up the milk, sitting on the edge of the bed and raising the glass so Matt could see what it was, receiving a whine in response.
"I know it might seem gross to drink milk after everything you've eaten, but it will help lessen the burn from the pepper, baby." Y/N spoke calmly, bringing the glass closer to Matt's face. "You ate a large amount. If we don't alleviate it now, this burning sensation will continue for several hours, sweetheart."
The boy sighed before wrapping both of his hands around Y/N's, who was still holding the glass for fear of Matt dropping it since his hands were shaking. He took it to his lips and closed his eyes tightly, tilting the glass and taking a small sip.
Y/N encouraged him with small whispers, pushing his hair back with her free hand, freeing his forehead from the heat of his strands.
Matt put the glass down after a few sips, pushing it closer to her, showing that he didn't want any more. He removed his hands from around Y/N's, allowing her to put it down.
The girl placed it on the bedside table again, watching her boyfriend's reactions.
"Do you think you're going to throw up? Or are you okay, and it's just the burning?"
"No, I'm not going to throw up, I just want to sleep." The boy responded weakly, lowering his torso onto the bed again, feeling the duvet pressing against his back. He turned onto his side, pressing his right hand to his exposed stomach. "Come lie down with me, please."
"I will, my love. Just let me take this glass to the kitchen, and I'll be right back." Her tone was low.
She leaned her body over his, sealing his cold forehead with her warm lips for a few seconds before pulling away and rising from the bed. She took the glass again, pushing the water bottle closer to the bed before taking steps towards the exit.
"I love you." She heard Matt whisper before closing the door behind her. A huge smile decorated her face as she felt her heart race.
She would do anything to make him feel better and Matt knew that.
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Extra - comments:
"I seriously thought Matt would throw up everything 😭"
"omg Matt is CRAZY for eating half of a red pepper without a second thought 🤡"
"Y/N worrying about Matt is so cute 🥺"
"the way Y/N kept looking at Matt all the time, making sure he was okay 😔 I love them so much"
"Matt almost dying, Y/N worried sick and Chris and Nick laughing until their next generation was the best thing I saw today"
"Matt and Y/N on the floor laughing their asses off is my new romain empire 🧎‍♀️"
"Matt saying 'I'm going to bed' after a traumatic experience is totally me for real"
"can we take a minute to appreciate Y/N eating the yellow pepper like it was chocolate? WHAT A WOMAN GUYS!!!! 🤤"
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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
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~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
1K notes · View notes
sinkovia · 3 months
Text
Consequences
-Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
Angst, mention of miscarriage, mention of death, blood.
Alternative ending
You sat on your bed, a book in hand, your other hand gently resting on your stomach. The room was filled with a warm and serene atmosphere as you flipped through the pages. You were reading about first-time parents and tips on what to do when you first bring your baby home. It was a moment of quiet joy, and you couldn't help but smile.
You were happier than ever, your face radiant with the anticipation of the life growing inside you. After a string of painful miscarriages, you had made it past the usual time period of uncertainty. You were now six months pregnant, and the relief of reaching this milestone was evident in your expression.
You and Ghost had been trying for a baby for the past two years. Each time you got pregnant, you miscarried around the three-month mark. His deployments often left you feeling lonely in the house, and it was time for you to expand your family. The idea of having children had always been a shared dream, and you were now well on your way to realizing it.
Ghost had just returned home, his hands full of grocery bags, which he placed on the table with a heavy thud. He was in the midst of a heated phone call, and you could hear his loud, strained voice from the adjacent room. Closing the book, you set it down on the nightstand and slowly made your way to the kitchen, your footsteps filled with a sense of anticipation.
His voice grew louder as you approached, you strained to listen as you heard his words spill from his mouth, the tension and frustration evident in his tone. He cursed in exasperation, abruptly ending the call and slamming the phone down on the kitchen counter, the resounding noise echoing in the room.
"Is everything okay?" you asked him, walking up slowly, your voice filled with concern. He took a deep breath, his gaze heavy and tired, and then turned to face you.
"Price is deploying me," his words landed like a heavy blow. Your heart sank, and your eyes began to well up with tears.
"What do you mean Price is deploying you? You told me that you talked to him about not sending you on missions while I was pregnant," your voice shaking with emotion. You took a step closer, desperation creeping into your tone.
"You did talk to him, right?" searching for any sign of reassurance. But he wouldn't meet your gaze, his eyes fixed on the counter. Your heartache deepened, and a single tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek.
"Simon!" you cried, flinching as he slammed his fists down onto the counter. He raised his voice, his frustration turning into anger.
"For fuck's sake, Y/n! No, I didn't talk to him!" he shouted, and you were stunned into silence. The words he spoke were a painful betrayal. You remembered vividly that he had assured you he'd spoken to Price about this.
"I never got around to it, okay? I didn't think you would make it this far. I assumed you would miscarry again, so I didn't bother telling him. I'm sorry, okay?" he admitted, his voice laced with guilt. The room felt heavy with the weight of his confession, and disbelief washed over you as you struggled to comprehend what he had just revealed. Your heart felt as if it had been torn in two. The man you loved and trusted had let you down in a way you never thought possible.
"Are you serious, Simon?" The disbelief and pain in your voice was thick as you confronted him. "This whole time, you were just pretending to be happy, but in reality, you were just waiting for me to miscarry again?" The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and you fixed your gaze on him, waiting for his response.
He couldn't even bring himself to look you in the eye as you spoke to him, and his voice was heavy with guilt as he admitted, "Yes." Your tears were now falling freely, and your chest ached with the pain of betrayal. He moved past you, grabbing his keys from the counter, his actions leaving you bewildered.
"Where are you going?" you asked, your voice a mixture of confusion and hurt. You moved closer, positioning yourself between him and the door, your determination to address the situation clear in your eyes.
"I'm going out; I need a drink," he responded, his words sounding callous and uncaring. You scoffed in disbelief, feeling the need to get to the bottom of this situation.
"No, you're not. We need to talk about this—" You reached for his hand, but he forcefully ripped it away, turning to glare down at you, his anger laid bare.
"There's nothing to fucking talk about, y/n. I'm deploying in two weeks, and nothing will change that!" He raised his voice, his frustration evident.
Your heart ached as you took a step back, struggling to understand his behavior. "Why are you acting like this? Why are you yelling at me?" you asked, your voice trembling as tears continued to fall.
"Because I'm fucking stressed, y/n. I didn't think you would make it this far into your pregnancy. Now, I'm getting deployed, and I don't know when I'll be back," he snapped, his own frustrations and anxieties taking over.
"Why are you taking it out on me?" You couldn't hold back the pain in your voice. "It's not my fault you didn't tell Price. You should have told him. I'm six months pregnant, Simon! How long were you going to wait until you told him?"
"Did I say it was your fault?!" he shot back, his anger flaring. "I know what I should have done, but I didn't, and now we are here. Now, get the fuck out of my way."
The harshness in his words cut deep, and you looked up at him in disbelief. He had never spoken to you like this before. While you knew his temper could be volatile, he had never taken it out on you in such a way.
"No, I don't want you to leave," you pleaded, trying to keep him from walking out the door. "We need to work this out, Simon. You know how I feel about things like this." You were insistent on resolving conflicts, always wanting to talk things through.
"I don't care how you feel; I don't want to talk about this right now," he retorted, his voice filled with frustration. "I need a fucking drink, so get out of my way." The desperation in his words hung in the air, and you couldn't believe the person he was becoming in this moment.
You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "No, I won't let you leave." Your resolve was strong, and you were determined to keep him here until you could address the issues at hand. His frustration had pushed him to a point where he was leaving the house in anger, but you couldn't let that happen. You would never let him leave the house when you guys were upset with one another. It was always something you were insistent on.
His hands went to your shoulders, and he harshly moved you out of the way. You stumbled, almost losing your balance, but you steadied yourself. He walked out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving you alone with a heavy heart and a whirlwind of emotions. You couldn't hold back the overwhelming flood of emotions that consumed you, and you collapsed onto the floor, your body wracked with deep, wrenching sobs.
In all the time you had been together, he had never laid his hands on you in anger like that. His temper was known to flare, but this was an entirely new level of intensity, especially considering he was the one at fault for the situation. You remained on the floor for what felt like an eternity, weeping into your hands, your heart heavy with a mixture of pain, betrayal, and despair. It was an hour of solitude in your sorrow before you mustered the strength to get up.
Getting up to your feet, you made your way to your room, your phone in hand, desperate to reach him. You attempted to call him, your fingers trembling. But just as you were about to press the call button, a sharp and agonizing pain coursed through your stomach, stopping you in your tracks. You were begging, repeating the words, "Please, not again," as you made your way to the bathroom, tears filling your eyes. You were in agony and feared for the well-being of your baby.
You collapsed on the bathroom floor as the pain became nearly unbearable, unlike anything you had experienced before. It felt as though your insides were being torn apart, and you couldn't bear it. With trembling hands and tears streaming down your face, you pressed the dial button and called Simon, your voice choked with pain and desperation.
You cried out as the agony radiated through your body, each moment feeling like an eternity. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer from him. It eventually went to voicemail, leaving you with a sinking feeling of abandonment and despair. As the pain intensified and your vision blurred, you set the phone down on the bathroom floor, your sobs echoing through the empty room.
Your trembling hands moved between your legs, coming away soaked in blood. Panic and fear gripped your heart as you propped yourself up against the toilet, leaning over it for support. Desperation consumed you as you reached for your phone once more, this time dialing 911 in a desperate attempt to get help.
But the blood on your fingers made it difficult, and the phone slipped from your grasp, landing with a sickening splash in the toilet. Your heart sank as you watched the screen turn black, your lifeline to assistance lost in the crimson-stained water.
Tears streamed down your face as you sat on the bathroom floor, gripping your stomach. You watched as the blood began to pool beneath you, and you cried out in anguish. You mustered all the strength you could, attempting to get up from the cold, hard bathroom floor. You needed to get help. Panic and agony coursed through you as you struggled to rise.
The pain was unbearable, and you knew something was terribly wrong. This was beyond the point of a typical miscarriage, given how far along you were in your pregnancy.
As you moved, a searing, relentless pain tore through your body, causing you to scream out in sheer agony. You lay on the bathroom floor, helpless and writhing in pain, your body refusing to cooperate.
An hour had passed, and in your hands, you held your stillborn baby. You sat against the bathroom wall, surrounded by a growing pool of your own blood. Emotions swirled within you, leaving you feeling numb and empty. You asked yourself what you had done to deserve this.
Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the world around you as you sat there, grappling with the reality of the fifth baby you lost. Your body was supposed to be nurturing new life, but instead, it had betrayed you once again. It felt like a cruel and never-ending nightmare.
With great pain and effort, you retrieved a small box from under the sink. You had experienced miscarriages so often that you'd prepared for such moments, stashing the small boxes under the sink. Gently, you placed your baby inside and closed the lid, tears still silently falling.
You lay on the cold, tiled bathroom floor in a growing pool of blood, your body trembling with exhaustion and pain.
In your arms, you cradled the small, delicate box, the weight of grief pressing heavily on your chest. Every passing moment seemed to drain you further, and the relentless flow of blood showed no signs of stopping.
Each breath became more laborious, your vision blurred, and you could feel your strength waning with each passing second. Your sobs and cries were replaced by an eerie silence as you struggled to hold on, the world fading around you as you clung to the precious, heartbreaking reminder of the life that would never be.
Ghost, sitting at the bar with Soap, had been sharing the situation he was in. It was late into the night, and the bar's dim lighting seemed to reflect the weight on Ghost's shoulders.
He ended up calling Price again, explaining that you were pregnant, and the conversation had been a long and tense one, going back and forth as they argued about the deployment. Finally, Price made the decision not to deploy Ghost on the mission.
With a deep exhale, Ghost felt a mixture of relief and guilt. He knew he had to make things right with you for the hurtful words he had spoken. For the way he treated you when you only wanted to talk it out. For breaking the promise you made to each other to never leave the house when one was upset with the other. Soap patted him on the back, offering his support and reminding Ghost that he really needed to make it up to you.
They ordered a few more drinks, and as the night wore on, they both realized they were in no condition to drive. It was then that they decided to walk to Soap's house, which was conveniently located only five minutes from the bar.
Their plan was to return in the morning, and whoever was in better shape would drive to the store to pick up the things Ghost needed for you.
Morning came, and they walked back to the bar to retrieve Ghost's car. Ghost ended up driving to the store where they selected a variety of items, ultimately deciding to make a basket filled with things you liked.
In the passenger seat Soap arranged the items in the basket while Ghost took a quick detour to the florist, picking out the largest and most beautiful bouquet of flowers he could find before going home.
Soap followed close behind Ghost as they entered the house, he placed the gift basket in the kitchen, and Ghost slowly made his way to the bedroom. He slowly opened the door, and noticed that you weren't in bed so he started to walk over to the bathroom.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the blood that had seeped from under the bathroom door. Panic surged through him as he rushed to open the door.
His heart dropped, and his breath caught as he found you lifeless, lying in a pool of blood. Your gaze was far away, and you held a small box beside you. He recognized it immediately – the same small boxes you used for the miscarriages.
With a rush of emotions, he took a hesitant step forward, but his balance wavered as he almost slipped on the blood-soaked floor. Rushing to your side, he carefully set the small box aside, his trembling hands unsteady. Ghost cradled your cold face in his hands, tears streaming from his eyes as he sat on the floor, your blood seeping into his clothes.
"Y/n baby look at me, please look at me, love. You're okay, it's okay, it's going to be okay."
He called out for soap, who was in the kitchen. Soap attempted to approach you, but Ghost, his voice strained with grief and guilt yelled at him.
"Johnny just call 911!" he hurried to the kitchen to make the call, leaving Ghost alone, cradling your lifeless form, lost in a world of anguish and guilt.
He called out to you, his voice a desperate plea, but there was no response. Ghost's cries of anguish filled the small bathroom, echoing the unbearable pain in his heart. Tears streamed down his face, and he continued to rock back and forth, cradling you against him.
His voice quivered as he muttered, "I'm so sorry, y/n... It's all my fault... I should have told Price… I should have told him…" he breathlessly whispered against your cold cheek. The weight of his regret was crushing, and the burden of knowing that his actions had led to this moment was almost too much to bear.
Simon held your lifeless body in his arms, the weight of your cold form pressing on him physically and emotionally. The room felt suffocating, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and grief. As he cradled you, all he could think about was the what-ifs and the guilt that gnawed at his conscience.
His mind tried to replay the scene of your final moments over and over. The thought that you were in pain, alone, and scared haunted him. He pictured you suffering, reaching out for help, and he wasn't there for you. The echoes of laughter and clinking glasses from the bar where he was drinking seemed deafening in his mind. While he was having drinks with Johnny you were here, alone and dying.
His eyes wandered to the toilet, where he saw your phone lying there. A chilling realization struck him — that missed call he ignored. Did the phone slip from your weakening grasp after calling him for help? Did you wait for a lifeline that never came? Guilt, heavy and consuming, pressed down on him, making every breath a struggle.
In that heartbreaking moment, Simon felt the weight of the consequences of his actions. The regret and sorrow mingled with the deafening silence of your absence, creating a painful symphony of remorse that would echo in his heart forever.
The memory of his last words to you, spoken in anger, haunted him. Those words, "I don't care how you feel," echoed in his mind like a relentless mantra. He wished he could turn back time, go back to that moment, and change everything.
He longed to take back the hurtful words he'd spoken and to be there for you in your time of need. He wished he had never stressed you to the point of pushing you into another miscarriage. But it was too late, and the reality of the consequences of his actions had come crashing down on him.
Grief enveloped him as he clung to your lifeless body, your silence an agonizing reminder of the happiness he had let slip through his fingers. The guilt and regret were insurmountable, and Ghost's world had shattered into a never-ending nightmare of his own making.
Alternative ending
2K notes · View notes
lecsainz · 11 months
Note
could you talk abt riding charles for the first time? 🤠
just ride
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: (+18) smut, reader riding, dirty talk and unprotected sex, minors dni!
authors note: I'm not sure if this is how you meant it, but I hope you like it. and the playlist this time was a mix of songs from ariana and lana (the title says a lot...)
word count: 2.6K
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Y/N entered the apartment's balcony, the warm breeze of the summer night caressing her skin as she admired the breathtaking view of Monaco's skyline. She knew Charles was on an important call with his engineer, discussing technical details of the upcoming race, but she couldn't resist the urge to tease him.
Dressed in a sheer, lacy nightgown that left little to the imagination, she walked up behind him, running her fingers lightly over his shoulder. Charles glanced at her, his eyes widening in surprise and desire as he tried to maintain his composure on the call.
Y/N whispered in his ear, her voice husky and filled with seduction, "You look so focused, my love. I thought you might need a little distraction."
Charles cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady as he responded to his engineer. "Uh, yes, we'll discuss that later… Sorry, I got…distracted for a moment." He shot Y/N a playful yet pleading look, silently begging her to continue.
She moved closer, her body pressing against his back as she gently slid herself onto his lap. Charles's breathing hitched, and his grip on the phone tightened. Y/N could feel his growing arousal beneath her, making her smile with satisfaction.
With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Y/N began to sway her hips slowly, grinding against him in a tantalizing rhythm. She trailed her fingers along his jawline, her lips brushing against his earlobe as she whispered, "I want to feel you, Charles. Right here, right now."
Charles's voice wavered slightly as he tried to maintain his professional tone. "Yes, we'll…we'll make the necessary adjustments… I understand… Just give me a moment." He struggled to concentrate on the call, his attention completely captured by the sensation of Y/N's body against his.
Y/N continued to move, her movements growing more insistent as she felt Charles's control slipping away. She nipped at his earlobe, her hot breath fanning across his neck, and whispered, "I want you, Charles. I want you to lose yourself in me."
He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I… I'll call you back.” Unable to resist any longer, Charles ended the call abruptly, tossing his phone aside. He turned his full attention to Y/N, his eyes filled with raw desire. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." he growled, his voice laced with need.
His eyes locked with Y/N's, widening in surprise and desire as he took in her appearance.
As his hand moved to caress her cheek, he felt the delicate fabric of her nightgown and realized there was nothing beneath it. His breath hitched, and his heart raced with anticipation. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with need, "You're not wearing anything underneath."
Y/N's lips curled into a playful smile as she leaned closer, her voice low and seductive. "I wanted to surprise you, Charles. I want you to see just how much you excite me."
Charles's eyes darken with desire as he tightens his grip on Y/N's buttocks, drawing her even closer to him. The realization that she's not wearing anything beneath the nightgown sends a surge of excitement through his veins. He can't resist the temptation to tease her, to play with her desires. With a mischievous grin, he slides a finger along her slick folds, feeling her wetness coating his touch.
Y/N's desperate moan only fuels his desire further. "You're so wet, mon amour." he growls, his voice thick with arousal. Y/N's breath hitches at his words, her eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and need.
"Charles," she whispers, her voice laced with desire. "I want to ride you right here on the balcony. I want to take control and show you how much I want you."
"Oh God, Y/N." A low, guttural groan escapes Charles's lips as he nods, his eyes locked with hers. "The idea of you riding me, taking charge… To feel you riding me, your body moving against mine." he urges, his voice husky with desire.
Y/N's eyes burned with desire as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Charles's ear. Her voice was laced with a seductive plea. "Take off your boxers, Charles. I want to feel all of you."
A low groan escaped Charles's lips as he eagerly obliged, sliding his boxers down his legs, his arousal fully exposed. The cool breeze of the Monaco sea caressed their heated bodies, heightening their sensations.
They were both aware of the potential risk of being seen by visitors to the Monaco seaside, but the thrill of being exposed only heightened their arousal. They were lost in their own world, fueled by passion and the breathtaking view before them.
She positioned herself on his lap, her legs straddling him, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace. Her eyes never left his as she slowly sank down, feeling him fill her completely. A gasp escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size.
Y/N began to move, a rhythm of urgency and desire taking over. Her hips rocked back and forth, riding him with increasing speed. Charles's grip on her tightened, his hands gripping her hips as he matched her movements.
The intensity grew, their bodies moving in perfect synchronization. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, their moans mingling in the air. Y/N could feel the tension building within her, the coil of pleasure tightening with each passing second.
Charles's eyes bore into hers, a mix of ecstasy and astonishment evident in his gaze. "Oh God." he gasped, his voice strained. "You're driving me insane. Don't stop."
With every upward motion, she quickened her pace riding him harder and faster, lost in the throes of passion.
Charles's hands traced a fiery path over her skin, his touch leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. His voice, husky and filled with desire, whispered dirty words of encouragement in her ear, igniting her passion even further.
"You're so fucking hot, Y/N." he growled, his voice dripping with lust. "I love how wet and tight you are for me. Ride me, ma belle. Show me how much you want it."
His words sent shivers down her spine, fueling her primal instincts. With renewed determination, she quickened her pace, her body moving in perfect harmony with his. Their moans mingled together, filling the room with their raw desire.
Charles's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, his grip firm and demanding. "That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Grind on me. Fuck me like you mean it. I can't get enough of you."
The intensity grew with each passing moment, their bodies consumed by a maddening frenzy of pleasure. The sound of their skin slapping together mixed with their breathless moans, creating a symphony of passion.
As they rode the waves of ecstasy, Y/N could feel the familiar tightening in her core, the telltale sign of her impending release. Charles sensed her nearing climax and intensified his efforts, his touch becoming more urgent and his words more fervent.
Charles's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting her further. He whispered dirty words of encouragement, fueling her desire even more.
As Y/N straddled Charles, she could feel his hardness beneath her, pulsating with desire. She began to move, her hips grinding against him, seeking a deeper connection. With each thrust, he moaned, his voice filled with unbridled pleasure.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his voice husky. "You feel so good. Ride me harder, mon amour. Show me how much you want it."
His words fueled her desire, and she rocked her hips with more intensity, their bodies creating a rhythm that echoed through the room. As their passion intensified, Charles leaned forward, capturing one of her breasts in his mouth. His tongue swirled around her hardened nipple, and she couldn't help but let out a loud, uninhibited moan.
The sound of her pleasure only spurred him on, and he continued to lavish attention on her breasts, alternating between gentle nips and lingering sucks. As Y/N's moans grew louder, her nails instinctively dug into Charles's back, leaving a trail of marks as a testament to her ecstasy.
"Shh, mon amour," Charles whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and urgency. "We have to be quiet, remember? We're out here on the balcony where anyone could hear us."
Y/N bit her lip, trying to stifle her moans as she continued to ride him. Her voice came out in breathless whispers. "I'll be good, Charles." Y/N's eyes widened with anticipation, her voice hushed but filled with passion. "I'll be as quiet as I can, but I can't promise to hold back when you feel this good inside me."
Charles's grip tightened on her hips, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Hold on tight, cherie, and ride me harder. Show me how much you want it, how much you crave my cock."
Y/N bit her lip, her voice barely a whisper. "I can't hold back anymore, Charles. I need you to fuck me harder and deeper."
Charles reveled in the sensation of her nails raking across his skin, the mixture of pleasure and pain heightening their connection. He couldn't help but growl in response, his own pleasure reaching new heights.
"You're so fucking sexy, mon amour." he rasped, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to feel you come undone beneath me."
As the intensity of their lovemaking reached its peak, Charles felt himself on the edge of release. With each thrust, he could sense Y/N's mounting pleasure, her moans becoming more desperate and her body trembling beneath him.
"You're so tight. I'm close, mon amour. I want to come with you." he growled, his voice filled with raw desire.
Charles could feel her walls pulsating around him, signaling her imminent climax. His hand slipped between their bodies, finding her sensitive bundle of nerves. He began to rub it in firm, circular motions, matching the rhythm of their bodies.
Y/N's eyes rolled back in ecstasy as the dual sensations overwhelmed her. She gripped Charles tightly, her nails digging into his back as she teetered on the edge.
"Oh God, Charles," she gasped, her voice strained with pleasure. "Don't stop. I'm so close."
With an intensity fueled by their shared desire, Charles adjusted his angle, hitting a spot deep within her that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. His pace quickened, his grip on her waist tightening as he chased their release.
Charles's voice dripped with wickedness as he encouraged her further. "That's it, baby. Let go for me. Come all over my cock. Show me how much you want it."
Y/N's body tensed as the pleasure coiled tightly within her, her inner walls pulsating around him. She threw her head back, her moans growing louder and more urgent. And at that moment, as Charles's own release washed over him, he watched with satisfaction as Y/N surrendered to the throes of ecstasy.
As Y/N reached the peak of her pleasure, her body convulsed with waves of ecstasy. She cried out his name, her voice filled with unbridled desire. "Charles, oh God! I'm… I'm coming!"
He watched in awe as she unraveled in his arms, her body trembling with bliss. In one swift motion, Charles lifted Y/N off his lap and guided her to lie back on the sofa. He positioned himself between her legs, his gaze locked with hers as he entered her once again. The familiar heat and tightness surrounded him, and he began to move with a relentless rhythm.
Y/N moaned and clung to him, her nails digging into his back as their bodies collided in a delicious frenzy. She reveled in the feeling of being taken by him, her pleasure building rapidly once more. "Don't hold back, Charles. I want to feel every inch of you." she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of desperation and need.
He obliged, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent, his control slipping away as the intensity consumed him. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of passion and desire. The sounds of their gasps and moans mingled with the gentle breeze of the balcony, a testament to the raw intensity of their connection.
With each thrust, they inched closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of their release. And when it finally came, it was a torrential wave crashing over them. Y/N cried out his name, her body quaking in ecstasy, while Charles groaned in satisfaction, his body pulsating with pleasure.
Y/N's body trembled with aftershocks as she slowly caught her breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Charles held her close, their bodies still intertwined, as they both basked in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses along Y/N's neck and collarbone.
He chuckled softly, his voice filled with disbelief and delight. "I can't believe we just did that on the balcony," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "You have to ride me more often, mon amour. Seeing you on top of me like that… it's an image I'll never forget."
Y/N blushed, a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction washing over her. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with affection and a hint of mischief. "Well, maybe we can find some more adventurous places to explore, Charles." she teased, her voice laced with newfound confidence.
He grinned, his fingers tracing circles on her bare back. "Oh, I'm all for that, ma belle."
As they sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that their love was a flame that burned fiercely, igniting not only their bodies but also their souls. In the midst of their passion and vulnerability, they had discovered a deeper connection, an unbreakable bond that would carry them through any obstacle.
And as they gazed out at the breathtaking view of Monaco's sparkling coastline from their balcony, the sound of Charles's ringing phone interrupted the moment of bliss. He reluctantly pulled away from Y/N, reaching for his phone with a slightly exasperated sigh.
"It's Xavi." he explained, a hint of frustration in his voice.
Y/N nodded understandingly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "Go ahead and take the call, Charles. I'll wait for you."
He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before answering the call. As he listened to his engineer's urgent voice on the other end, Y/N took the opportunity to appreciate the sight before her—Charles, half-naked and still flushed from their passionate encounter, his focus shifting between her and the conversation.
Charles's expression changed from annoyance to intrigue as he engaged in the conversation. He was visibly engrossed in the discussion, occasionally nodding or asking questions. Y/N couldn't help but admire his dedication and talent, even in the midst of their intimate moments.
After a few minutes, Charles concluded the call, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. He set his phone aside and turned his attention back to Y/N, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.
"Sorry about that, mon amour," he said, his voice husky with lingering lust. "But where were we?"
Y/N smirked, pulling him closer and trailing her fingertips along his bare chest. "I believe we were in the middle of something quite pleasurable."
Charles's eyes sparkled mischievously as he scooped Y/N up in his arms, effortlessly carrying her to their bedroom. She let out a playful squeal, her legs wrapping around his waist.
"Are you ready for round two, mon amour?" he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.
Y/N grinned, her fingers running through his tousled hair. "Oh, I'm more than ready." she replied, her voice brimming with excitement.
And as the door closed behind them, their laughter and passionate whispers filled the air, leaving the rest of their passionate escapades to be explored and savored in the privacy of their bedroom.
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buckyhad · 7 months
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Sharing is caring
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader x Oscar Piastri
Tw: Vouyerism, Lando likes to share, smut
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Lando was used to being the younger teammate, with Carlos and Daniel, he was always the kid, but when Oscar joined McLaren, Lando felt the odd need to help him as much as he could.
Carlos and Daniel made his years more easy and happy so he wanted to do the same for the australian.
He started with giving him some advices, then letting him borrow clothes if he needed, and sharing whatever serie he was watching at the time.
But as the season went on, and Lando got closer to Oscar, Lando started to share things you did with Oscar.
When you cooked something for him, he always made sure it was enough to share with his teammate. Taking him sometimes when both of you went out to eat, or even letting him stay at your room when he needed someone to talk to.
None of you knew how you got to that point, but there you were, Lando watching the new serie he got obsessed with, you beside him, with Oscar cuddling on your side, sleeping.
"Why would you make a podcast about someone who got murdered?" You asked your boyfriend.
"It's a show love just enjoy it" he said "you are to far, get closer" he whined.
Cuddling onto his side, ending in a spoom position with Oscar, you tangled your upper leg with Lando's.
Hearing the british laughing, you shuffled to get comfortable and finally get some sleep, when you felt Oscar's arm tightening around your waist, and his hips grinding on your behind, gasping you searched for Lando's eyes, who looked down at you with his mouth in an 'oh' shape.
"Lan" you whispered.
"Does it feel good?" You gulped, nodding your head.
"Go ahead then love" he said, caresing your hair "Mate" he said waking the australian abruptly.
"I'm sorry I'm really sorry" the younger one said as fast as his sleepy brain could when he realised what was going on.
"No, you look like you need it, just be quiet, I'm trying to watch my show".
Oscar looked like a lost puppy watching you with his big eyes filled with confusion "Did he just said I could have sex with you?" You giggled at his politeness.
"Yes baby, he said that" You said before kissing him.
Feeling the younger one whining when you grinned your hips harder against him. Oscar couldn't take it anymore, pulling his own pants and boxer down.
"Please, take your underwear off" he said in between kisses, doing as he asked, you take it off, about to throw it somewhere in the room.
"I'm keeping it" your boyfriend said, extending his hand.
"You arent going to join us?" The australian asked.
"Another time, this chapter is so good" you laughed and rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, being interrupted by your own moan when Oscar started to run his tip on your folds.
Lifting your upper leg with his arm, he thrusted inside you slowly, hiding his face on the crook of your neck, kising and biting there.
"Fuck, it feels so good" you cried out.
"Shh, Lando asked us to be quiet" he said placing his free hand on your mouth, picking his pace now that you wouldn't bother the british.
"So wet" he mumbled "Not gonna last long" hearing his voice deep on your ear, you fisted your boyfriend's shirt, caughting his attention.
"Oh shit" he said, watching how his teammate's dick dissapeared inside you.
"It's the serie still more interesting?" Oscar said.
"Fuck no" Lando said starting to take his pants off.
-------------
A/N: Helloooo, in honour to the double podium, thinking about a pt2 already👀
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disneyprincemuke · 3 months
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ღ this barbie’s teammate is a schumacher
notes: hello gays it is i, finally writing for barbie
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she closes the car door and sighs with a small smile, looking at the building ahead of her. this will be her life until she decides otherwise. she shoves her car keys into her purse and watches curiously as another supercar pulls into the empty lot next to her.
is that who she thinks it is?
she takes a step towards her car, watching the car be parked into the slot flawlessly. she tilts her head when it comes to a stop, the driver's side opening to reveal its driver.
"oh!" she shrieks, running around the front of her car to approach the young man. "mick schumacher, right? i am such a big fan! i'm so excited to finally be working with you!"
the german takes a step back, overwhelmed by the sudden presence of the girl in pink approaching him. she has a pair of sunglasses resting on the top of her head, a fur coat on and a purse hanging off her elbow.
"oh, hi," mick smiles politely. he's not a mean person; he's just a little more introverted than the next guy. "i'm glad to be with honda this year. i'm looking forward to spending the year with you."
he was in deep thought before she came up to him. he wondered, as the way he's been doing for years, if the rumours that he'd been scouted for the second seat at the request of his boss's daughter. but who is he to complain; he's racing in f1 again. does it matter how he got back into it?
surely not.
but this girl that stands in front of him – could she be an intern? she looks fairly young, very enthusiastic, and a glimmer of hope in her eyes that he doesn't see from individuals his age often. perhaps a marketing intern.
"alright, well, i'll see you inside! i love the sweater, by the way!" she shrieks, waving at him with a wide smile. she waves at him as she walks away, cautiously crossing the parking lot as the rest of the cars for the day start to roll in. "and the car! you have to give me a tour someday!"
he waves back at her in confusion, only able to mutter a 'goodbye' to himself as she disappears into the big front doors of the building. he locks his car and follows her in the direction she left, ready to start his new year with a new team.
he spends the next 10 minutes navigating the new factory he'll be frequenting from now on. introducing himself to people, familiarising himself with the engineers he'll be working closely with, and other members of the team. it's a surprisingly bigger team than he had initially thought, so it takes him longer than he expected.
about 20 minutes introducing himself and trying to pin names with the new faces. then he ends up in a quiet office, shaking his leg in anticipation as he awaits his first face-to-face meeting with his new teammate and his boss.
he hears clicks of heels right by the door, prompting him to sit up a little straighter as he glances behind him quickly. he straightens his sweater, pulls his sleeves down and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. he can't screw himself over.
"i'm telling you, daddy, he's got the coolest car! i saw him in the parking lot earlier!" the door opens, revealing two figures with two familiar faces. which, shouldn't be the case, because this is the first time he's meeting his teammate.
"do you want one, honey?"
"no, that's so silly! i love my car!" she giggles, before abruptly stopping at the sight of his wide blue eyes staring at her in disbelief. "my car is perfectly fine! right, mick?"
mick blinks, swallowing the forming lump of guilt in his throat. he had no idea that the girl in the parking lot was going to be his teammate eventually.
oh god, and for him to assume that she's a marketing or pr intern? how humiliating. how would he feel if someone were to think that of his sister was a mere backend worker when she is something more?
"yes," he answers by default, not really remembering what she was asking him. he immediately pushes himself up to his feet and extends a hand to her first. "i'm sorry. i don't believe i got your name in the parking lot – i didn't know you were going to be my teammate. i'm so sorry."
"oh, don't worry about it. it happens a lot." she introduces herself before quickly walking away, running over to the empty seat next to him.
mick huffs, grinning at her father before he takes a seat. but the entire time, all he can think of is how embarrassed he is for misjudging her. "you don't care that i didn't take you for a driver at first?"
she looks off blankly, pressing her lips together before shaking her head. she turns to him again. "it's not like i told you," she grins. "anyway, do you like japanese curry? that's my favourite – i'll make you some when we meet again for pre-season."
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wasteddmoondust · 8 days
Text
teacher || james potter
pairing: james potter x reader 863 words, preschool teacher au, james is a single dad (not for long...?), kindergarten teacher!reader, gender neutral reader, harry is her student so you know how it goes a/n: sorry this took months i have been in the slumpiest slump ever. hope you enjoy :,) I'm not too sure about how preschools fair in other countries but this is mostly based on my own experiences!
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"Mr Potter! Lovely to see you today."
James walks into your classroom, and it's humourous to see you seated in a chair and table meant for six-year-olds.
He smiles at you and waves. Unfortunately, you're swooning on the inside.
Yes, it's unprofessional to have a crush on a parent, let alone the parent of one of your beloved students. Very unprofessional, actually. But you can't help but be enamoured by his looks. He looks exactly like his son, Harry. Messy hair and gold-rimmed glasses.
Or maybe he's just one of the only few parents who are the same age as you. And it doesn't help when you know he's a single father and always strikes a conversation with you whenever he has the chance to. In your head, maybe it wouldn't hurt to make a move.
"Of course, I'm happy to be here today, though it's the last time," he says as he sits down in an identical tiny chair.
You know you have to push these thoughts aside, because this was the last parent-teacher meeting for your kindergarteners who will be graduating in a few weeks. No matter your feelings, your job was to tell parents how their child has faired so far in their education.
You take a deep breath and fix your hair. "Okay, let's get started."
You adore Harry, a joy to have in your class. He is very friendly and communicates very well with his peers and teachers. He actively participates in class. He is developing well in the different aspects. You explain everything in layman's terms so he can understand, and he nods along, listening.
"Needless to say, Harry's definitely ready for primary school. If you'd like, it would be great if you continued his learning at home as well, before he officially starts school." you finish, nodding at James. You unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that it won't be long until you'll never see this man again.
"That's great," he says, looking up from Harry's portfolio from over the year. "Harry really appreciates you as a teacher, you know? He always loves coming to school."
You smile at that, it warms your heart. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll definitely miss him when he graduates."
There's an awkward silence between the both of you, not particularly knowing what to say. You both nod and look down. You know it's the end.
"Well..." you start. "If you don't have any more questions, that will be it. Thank you so much for joining us on this journey, Mr Potter."
"I do have- um- a question?" he says abruptly. He suddenly seems more fidgety and nervous, gripping the binder of Harry's portfolio.
"Um..." he scratches his head. You look at him expectantly. "I appreciate you as Harry's teacher, of course. He always says that you're very nice and pretty... I also think you're very nice and pretty..."
You nod along, trying to keep your cool by controlling your facial expressions.
He continues, his shoulders slowly rising in a shrug. "So if you'd let me, we can meet outside of school for once," he spits it out quickly like he's ripping a band-aid off.
Blinking slowly, you process what just happened. "Did you just ask me out?" you ask, eyes wide.
His eyes dart to the side and then back at you. "Yes," he says.
"Mr Potter-" you start.
"Please, you can call me James-"
"Your son is my student."
"He won't be by next week."
"It will be very unprofessional of me-"
"I don't hear a no, though..."
And you're both in silence again. You sigh and bring a hand to your face, resting your chin on your palm as you look away from him. You try to think of your next move.
Aside from all of the consequences that may occur, this is a golden opportunity. Your teacher life always gets so hectic and you barely have time to go out and meet people. If you miss this chance you may never get to have one like it again.
You bite your lip and accept whatever fate may come.
You speak in a hushed voice, willing that no one hears this conversation. "Fine, yes. I'll give you a chance. But if anything goes wrong, my priority is my job and yours is Harry. Got it?"
James let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes. "Yes, okay. I will-"
He's cut off by a knock at your door. Your colleague opens it and her head pokes into your classroom. "Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the next parent is waiting outside," she says. You nod at her and she leaves. You stand up, and James does too.
"Well, this is... unofficially goodbye, Mr Potter. It really has been a pleasure teaching Harry," you say, stretching your hand out for a shake. He takes it, and his hand is warm.
You mutter quickly to him, "My contact is in the binder."
He grins at you, childlike, and you watch him leave your classroom with a wave. You wave back, smiling.
You sincerely hope you won't regret this decision.
a/n: RRRAAHHH i really hope to make this a mini series of some kind because i have the softest spot for kids and i start being a real teacher in a month! asks are open if you have any thoughts <3 thanks for reading!
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ellemj · 4 months
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Dreaming About Me?: 12 Days of Smut #8
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: Dreaming about Bucky during a stay in a safehouse leads to a morally-grey situation.
Warnings: profanity, teasing, masturbation, mutual masturbation, mentions of unprotected sex, wet dream, fingering, slight voyeurism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2k
A/N: This one felt pretty weak when I was writing it but I had a rough day lmao, hopefully the last 4 days will make up for it. I don't know how many of you read these A/Ns but...the Christmas day post will have something to do with Needs & Wants, do with that what you will.
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            The cool metal fingers slide your panties down your thighs, as far down as he can get them until you finish the task by kicking them off of your ankles and letting them disappear somewhere within the mess of bedsheets. His vibranium hand glides over the curve of your ass, disappearing between your legs and giving you the expectation of pleasure, but refusing to touch you where you need him most. Every inch of your skin feels like it’s on fire, each nerve ending sparking with electricity just from being so close to him.
            “Bucky, please.” You whine, fisting the bedsheets and pushing back against him as much as possible, trying to encourage him to touch you more. You’re basically spooning in your current position, or at least you would be if he’d let you move any closer to him.
            “So impatient.” He tsks, laughing darkly after the words leave his mouth. His lips attach to the skin of your neck, sucking and biting gently, surely leaving you peppered with red and pink marks that will darken later on. “Do you want me to touch you?”
            “Please, I need it.” You moan out, stretching out your neck in hopes that he’ll continue his unrelenting ministrations there.
            You’re awoken abruptly, squeezing your thighs together and gripping the bedsheets tightly in your left fist, just like in the dream that you didn’t get to finish. You relax your legs, losing the delicious feeling of friction between them just as you realize how wet your panties are.
            “Y/n?” Bucky’s voice is quiet and breathy as he checks to see if you’re awake. You feel your cheeks turning red with embarrassment. You can only hope that you weren’t talking in your sleep, or more that you weren’t moaning in your sleep. You slowly turn over on your opposite side and once you’re facing him, you find him only a few inches away from you. He lies facing you with the covers bunched up around his waist, showing off his toned chest and rippled abs.
            “Did I wake you?” You ask innocently, trying to hide the fact that you just had a dirty dream about the man who’s lying right there next to you. But honestly, there isn’t a single person in the world that could fault you for the content of that dream. Just looking at him right now makes it feel as though you’re still in a wet dream.
            “Yeah, you were…” Bucky’s voice trails off as he tries to decide how to word what he’s about to say. You squeeze your eyes shut, ready to flee the shitty little safehouse and run straight out into the woods to be struck by lightning or maybe a falling tree to be put out of your misery. “You said my name.” Bucky’s sure of it. You definitely, one-hundred-percent said his name. It wasn’t even his name alone, it was paired with the neediest please that Bucky has ever heard. It’s why his dick is straining so hard against the fabric of his sweats right now.
            “Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve been dreaming.” You mumble, turning back over and resuming your previous position, squeezing your legs together again, but for a different reason this time. You know how heightened Bucky’s senses are, and you know that his sense of smell could easily pick up your arousal from how close you currently are. That’s the last thing you need to happen.
            “Dreaming about me?” He knows the answer is a resounding yes, but he wants to hear you admit it.
            “Maybe it was a nightmare.” You lie, earning a soft laugh from him.
            “Bullshit, you moaned my name.” He says, clearly ready and willing to discuss what he thinks he just witnessed. He’s slightly annoyed and offended that you’d try to lie right to his face after lying next to him and making such needy sounds for the past two minutes. He knows he’s right. You were having a dream about him while he laid beside you and listened to you moan and whimper for two minutes straight. You moaned his fucking name.
            “I did not.” You argue, knowing full well that you probably did moan his name out loud, but absolutely refusing to admit it. You’d rather tell a hundred lies and piss him off with your dishonesty than admit to him that you were dreaming about exactly what he thinks you were dreaming about. He’s your colleague, and currently, your partner on a very tricky undercover mission. You don’t need to complicate things for either of you.
            “Are you going to tell me what we were doing?”
            “Absolutely not.”
            “So, it was a sex dream.” Bucky decides. You can tell from his tone of voice that he has a smug smile painted across his face. You groan and throw the covers back, stomping away to the bathroom.
            “Go back to sleep.” You grumble as you cross the threshold of the bedroom door and disappear into the dark hallway beyond. Bucky lies in bed for a few seconds after you’re gone, smiling to himself at this new development in your relationship. Can he even call it that? A relationship? Probably not, but he sure as hell doesn’t feel like he can call it a regular partnership between colleagues. You’ve only been on a total of three missions together, each one involving the two of you undercover as a couple, and each one involving an inordinate amount of public displays of affection. At first, you both tried to argue your way out of being sent out on such an assignment. You preferred simpler missions like stealing intel or recovering stolen SHIELD property, always working alone. Bucky preferred basically any mission that didn’t involve him having to put on an act. Yet, somehow, you both ended up being naturals. That’s how you ended up in this safehouse tonight, acting as bait to gain the enemy’s attention while Sam and Sharon break into a secure facility to steal something that’s of minimal interest to you. While there isn’t any type of surveillance inside of the small house, you know the second you turn on a light or step out onto the front porch, you’d be watched like a hawk.
            You’re in the bathroom splashing cold water on your face while Bucky lies on his back in bed, running his hands through his hair. He tries to rationalize with his vascular system. He needs his hard-on to have completely dissipated by the time you get back in here, or it’ll only get worse. He’s just about to tuck it underneath his waistband when he hears the shower begin running. He actually laughs out loud this time, but not loud enough that his voice carries to the bathroom. He’s positive that you’re about to take a cold shower. What the hell else could you be doing?
            You’re not taking a cold shower. You’d considered it, but then you asked yourself why you should let this moment go to waste. You’ve been on three missions back-to-back in the last week and you’ve barely had a moment to yourself. You’ve barely had a moment to do anything for yourself. So, you simply turned on the shower faucet and let the water run as you seat yourself on the floor and spread your legs. It may be a bit morally-grey, getting yourself off while thinking about your work partner, who happens to be sitting just down the hall. But morally-grey is going to have to do for now, because you can’t sleep like this. Sliding your right hand down the front of your shorts and panties, you draw in a sharp inhale as the pads of your fingers meet the excessive wetness between your legs. You knew you were horny but fuck, that little dream about Bucky really did you in. You know you have to be quick, so you start circling your fingertips around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure and angling your open legs just right. You’ve always been so good at pleasuring yourself, sometimes able to make yourself reach an orgasm in under a minute if you’re really focused and turned on. Somehow, this time it’s even easier. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the only thing on your mind is Bucky Barnes. You close your eyes tightly and rub fast circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, letting the dream from earlier replay in your mind. You can almost feel Bucky’s hand in place of your own and your chest begins to rise and fall quickly with each breath you take.
            “Fuck.” The whimpered curse leaves your lips so quietly that you don’t even worry about whether or not Bucky can hear you, because you’re sure that he can’t.
            But he heard you. Of course he fucking heard you. If you thought that his heightened senses were good enough to pick up the smell of your arousal through your pajamas then you should’ve assumed that his heightened sense of hearing could pick up your whimper from fifteen feet away. The melodious sound drifted down the hallway and straight to his ears, causing his already hard cock to let out another little drop of precum against the fabric of his boxers. He strains his ears as he tries to determine if the sound was really what he thinks it was. When he hears a second soft fuck followed by what sounds so much like his name, he’s pretty sure you’re touching yourself. He wants nothing more than to break down the fucking door. He wants to break down the door and see how you’re falling apart for him, without even having his hands on you. But he knows that isn’t an option. Instead, he chooses the most morally-grey option available.
            Bucky reaches into the waistband of his sweats and boxers and wraps his hand around the shaft of his cock, quickly setting a good pace as he begins stroking it. His hand glides up and down, spreading the abundant amount of precum along the entire length as his head falls back into the pillow. He knows it’s wrong, but if you’re doing it then why can’t he? Another moan falls from your lips down the hall and Bucky’s cock twitches in his hand. He didn’t expect his body to respond so much just to the sounds you make. He can tell by the quick breaths and uncontrollable curses escaping you that you’re close already, so he quickly works to catch up. He isn’t sure why he’s so set on finishing at the same time as you. If anything, he should want to finish first so he can quickly clean himself up and get back into bed before you notice anything amiss. But Bucky feels an undeniable urge to finish with you. Truthfully, he wishes he was finishing inside you, but for now, he can settle for simply cumming at the same time.
            You’re so close to your orgasm that you can’t stop yourself from letting out a few moans and curses. You tell yourself that the sound of the running water will drown you out and Bucky won’t hear a thing, but a little part of you is hoping that he not only hears you, but that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. You imagine him touching himself at the mere sound of you, stroking his cock at a pace that matches your own, chasing his release right alongside you. When you finally fall over the edge, letting bliss overtake your entire body, you moan out his name just like you did in your sleep earlier.
            “Bucky, please.”
            He imagines that’s how you’d sound when you’re begging him to cum inside you. So, as soon as the words have left your mouth, Bucky’s own orgasm washes over him in waves as he fucks his hand. He imagines you taking every drop of his release, filling you up and then listening to your pretty little voice thank him for cumming inside of you.
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857 notes · View notes
riordanness · 4 months
Text
lover — [w.wonka]
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wordcount: 1K
warnings: none
requested: yes!! anon <3
You’d think that working for the greatest chocolate maker in the world would be awesome, right?
You’d be correct. However… some parts were not quite so awesome. Especially when you’re head over heels in love with said chocolate maker.
“Noodle!” I scold, laughing as she tosses yet another chocolate in her mouth, rather than stacking them as we’re supposed to be doing.
She shrugs, and gives me a wicked grin. “Sorry, not sorry.”
I roll my eyes, taking a bite out of my own selected piece of chocolate. Willy always says that we should eat whatever and whenever we like. He just cares that much for us.
“What do you want to do when you’re older, y/n?” Noodle asks me suddenly.
I frown at the question. “I am older.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re like eighteen. I mean older, older.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m pretty content just working at this shop right now. But I’d like to fall in love, get married, and have a family. That would be nice, I guess. It’s not likely, though.”
“Why not? That’s totally likely.”
I smile a little. “Because, Noodle-dee, I’m not that kind of girl. Guys don’t just go and fall in love with me.”
She smirks a little, and pops another chocolate in her mouth. “You never know, y/n-doo.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” There’s a smile in my voice.
Noodle doesn’t reply, so I let it go, going back to stacking Willy’s gorgeous chocolates in their pretty display cases for the shop. This is honestly probably my favourite job in the entire store. Making it look pretty.
It’s the end of the day, all the customers are gone, and just Noodle, Willy, and I are left, all doing our individual closing duties.
Noodle cleans the floors, I count the till money, and Willy, well, I’m still not exactly sure what he does, but he walks through every single room in the entire building, checking something.
Probably some big important, owner-of-the-chocolate-factory job I don’t know about.
Noodle and her bucket of soapy water makes it way over to me. “Hey y/n,” she sing-songs.
“Mm?” I glance up from counting silver sovereigns.
“You know how you were saying you wanted to fall in love?”
“Someday, yeah.”
Noodle looks amused about something. “Are you already in love? Do you at least have someone in mind?”
My brain immediately, unhelpfully, offers up an image of Willy, with his smiling face and unruly dark curls. I suddenly get very flustered. “Uh—no. Of course not, Noodle.”
“Really.” She raises an eyebrow, deadpanning at me.
I shake my head. “I don’t have anyone, uh, in mind, no. I’m not in love. That’s ridiculous.”
At that moment, without either me or Noodle noticing, Willy reenters the main shop room where we both are. But I’m so engrossed in trying to convince Noodle to drop this topic that I don’t even see him.
“What about Willy?” Noodle suddenly asks.
I drop my stack of sovereigns. “What do you mean?”
Noodle has her hands on her hips. “You like him. It’s so obvious.”
I fumble with the coins, trying desperately to keep my hands from shaking. “No—? I don’t—um. No. I don’t like him. I mean I do, like him. But not, uh, like, like him.”
“Are you sure? You don’t seem sure.”
I groan, slamming the sovereigns onto the counter. “Fine. You win, Noodle-dee. I like Willy. A lot. In fact, I’m desperately in love with him and I think about him almost constantly. Now can you please drop it?” I don’t even realise I have tears in my eyes, but my emotions suddenly come to a swirling head, and I hiccup, and brush a tear away.
“I’m sorry,” Noodle whispers, but she sounds more triumphant than sorry. “I won’t ask you about it again.”
She grabs up her bucket and leaves abruptly.
I blink a few times, let out a sigh, and finish up with the till money. Then I flick off all the lights, lock up the inner doors, and get ready to leave for the day.
Noodle has already signed out, so I guess it’s only Willy left in the shop somewhere. “Willy?” I call, “I’m heading off now!”
Willy appears, hurrying over to me. “Thanks, y/n.” He has a weird look on his face, and he won’t look at me.
“Everything okay?” I ask uncertainly. “You look strange.”
He shakes his head. “Fine, fine. I’m okay.”
“Alright.” I shrug. “I’m heading home now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I say this every day. It’s like clockwork.
Willy usually echoes it back, tells me to get home safely, and gives me a smile. But today, it’s different.
“Y/n, wait,” he says, just as my fingers are on the doorknob.
I glance at him. “Yeah?”
He licks his lips, glancing everywhere but me. “I heard you and Noodle earlier.”
I freeze, unsure of what to say or do. “You did?”
He nods. “Is it true? You’re in love with me?”
I don’t answer right away. I look at him for a moment, breathe, and then nod my head once. “Ever since I met you,” I say, and try to laugh. But it’s not really that funny. It’s kind of pathetic, actually. Because I am just y/n, and he is Willy Wonka.
“Me too, you know.”
It takes me way too many heartbeats to understand what he means. “What?”
“I’m in love with you, too, silly.” He chuckles, playing with his fingers.
I stare at him. “You… you, what?”
He laughs again, more forcefully this time. “Y/n, just come here.” He reaches for me, hands cupping my face, and when he pulls me into him, and kisses me, I can’t even breathe. It’s surreal, like a dream, but it’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s him, and it’s everything.
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Text
Kiss Me
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Hi!
This is from a request and you can find it here. There is a prequel that you can find here.
Thank you for reading it :)
TW : Jealousy, Angst, Swearing
______________________________________________________________
"Why is your friend looking at me like she’s gonna kill me?"
Surprised by the question that your interlocutor asks you, you follow her eyes to fall on Katie’s furious face. You obviously knew who the brunette you just met was referring to in that dubious nightclub, even before you met the blue of Katie’s eyes.
"Don’t worry about her" you answer with a little smile.
The truth is, you’re nervous. If you find yourself talking to that brunette, it’s because Steph and Kyra pushed you to do it. They saw her looking at you a lot since the start of the evening.
"Come on, she's the prettiest in the nightclub" Kyra told you before practically pushing you down your seat.
"What do you have to lose?" Caitlin shrugged when you looked for her to have some help.
The truth is, Caitlin knows what you have to lose because she knows about your complicated relationship with Katie. In short, you’re both crazy in love with each other. But the complicated thibg is the point of honor that puts Katie not to be in a couple with a teammate, especially following the way her relationship with Ruesha ended.
This doesn’t prevent her from yielding regularly to the temptation that you some way are in her eyes, even ending up just as regularly by spending the night with you. The next morning, however, it’s always the same thing. She apologizes, tells you that you shouldn’t have done this, kisses your cheek and leaves.
"If it makes her react to seeing you with someone else…" Caitlin whispered, even though Katie couldn’t hear her at the other end of the table anyway.
No doubt from feeling your teammates’ eyes on her, the pretty stranger ended up approaching your table. She spoke directly to you with a shy smile.
"Hello. Can I buy you a drink?" she asked.
"Yes you can!" Kyra almost scream, actually pushing you from your seat this time.
"I’m Emma" the brunette introduced herself on your way to the bar.
"Y/N" you just answered.
"Nice name for a pretty girl"
You smiled when you heard her, not really comfortable in the field of flirting. Katie had to stick you against a wall to kiss you to make you realized that maybe she liked you too.
After getting your drinks, Emma pulled you back from the crowd to chat a little more quietly. That’s when she felt Katie’s burning eyes. Emma doesn’t seem to know you’re Arsenal players, and it’s pretty refreshing. And you’re relieved to know she won’t talk about your discussion and Katie’s reaction somewhere on Internet.
"You’re cute" smiles Emma while flicking your hair when you explain to her that you’re not from London but from Australia following the question she asks you about your accent.
Surprised by the statement, you look up at her without knowing what to say. She’s probably very pretty too, to be fair. She has a nice smile, she looks very nice and her eyes sparkle with mischief. But she’s not Katie.
"Thank you" you ended up answering weirdly.
But this doesn’t seem to bother Emma who follows by an invitation to go dancing. You accept, hoping that it makes you think about something else than Katie’s look making you the impression that it will pierce you. So you try to focus on the music and find qualities for Emma. You don’t flinch when she puts her hands on your hips to draw you against her to dance. But you withdraw abruptly when you feel her lips approach dangerously yours, teasing them lightly.
"I’m sorry" you mumble before freeing yourself from her arms.
You’re not exactly sure where you’re going to run from, but you are. Until someone grabs both your arms in each of their hands to turn you around. Katie.
"Did she kiss you?"
Her voice trembles with fury and her breath is short. But her gaze plunged into yours and it gives you the impression that there is more than that.
"No"
"Did you want to kiss her?"
Of course there’s more, like every time she kisses you or you make love. It’s not for nothing that you come back every time.
"No" you whisper
After hearing your answer, Katie abruptly breaks the last centimeters that existed between you. Her lips on yours are far from tender, rather passionate and almost desperate. The force of her kiss makes you back to the wall against which you get pinned. Like for your first kiss.
"You’re mine" Katie pants, her forehead against yours, at the end of your kiss.
"Of course I am. The only problem is that you’re not mine back, Katie."
Katie looks at you for a few seconds, her eyes dipped into yours. You are still against the wall, not thinking for a second that all your teammates are now watching you.
"I’m just scared" Katie whispers, and you feel yourself getting soft immediately at her confession.
You raise your hand on her face still leaning against yours by your foreheads. Katie’s soft side has always made you fall harder than her strong character.
"I know. I’m not gonna run away, Katie."
You feel Katie’s eyes probing yours for long seconds, your fingers still drawing the lines of her face. Her breath caresses your lips and it makes you half mad.
"Kiss me again" you almost beg her.
Katie doesn’t hesitate to put her lips on yours again for a new kiss. You put her hands on her neck and slide your nails on her skin, lightly scraching her, like you know she likes. And you can’t help but be proud by hearing her moan against your lips and feeling her tighten impossibly close to you. Stuck between the wall and her body, you can’t focus on anything but her. And it’s delicious.
"Um. I hate myself to interrupt your moment, but you better finish this at either one of your house before you end up on the Internet."
Lost in your world, you didn’t see or feel Leah approach you. Her amused smile makes you blush but you let Katie grab your hand to train you with her.
"Where are we going?" you ask without resisting.
"Home."
By an incredible luck you get to find a taxi directly out of the bar that brings you quickly to Katie. And you’re unable to keep your hands in your pockets the whole way, but in your defense, Katie doesn’t help you be wise either. Luckily it’s not an Uber, otherwise you probably wouldn’t have gotten the five stars.
Arriving at Katie’s, you quickly find yourself where Katie had more or less left you. That is to say trap between her body and a wall, except that this time it’s in her apartment. You manage to reach her bedroom that you know a little less well than she knows yours, losing your clothes on the way. The hours that followed are without comments and just before you fall asleep you wonder how will happen the next morning. Usually, you’re at your apartment and Katie can run away. The good news is you can sit in her living room until you have a full conversation about your relationship.
********
The next morning, when you wake up, you are surprised to see that Katie is always with you in her bed. You are almost wrapped around her, one of your arms around her waist, one of your legs over her and your face just below her shoulder. You realize that Katie is awake when you hear her laugh softly and you look up at her.
Since she wakes up almost every time before you, you haven’t really seen her in the morning. But you doubt you’ve ever found her as beautiful as she was now. You don’t know what’s left in her head about what happened last night. You know that she’s the type to run headlong and you almost expect her to tell you that you have to put a definitive point to your story. Despite the extreme comfort in which you are, you try to take off from Katie, but she frowns by passing an arm around your waist to hold you against her.
"Did you sleep well?" Katie asks, putting a hand in your hair.
"Wonderfully well" you confess without hesitation, lying back in your initial position.
Katie doesn't answer anything, content to smile gently while continuing to caress your hair. That’s the truth, you don’t know when is the last time you slept so deeply and so restfully. And in your opinion, the arms of the Irish are not unknown.
"So..." you begin after minutes of silence.
"Yeah?"
"About last night?"
"What about last night?" Katie asks softly after some moments of hesitation.
The question takes you by surprise and you lift your face from her body, so that you can observe her. But when you look at her face, you immediately see the gleam of fun shining through her eyes. She’s just teasing you and having fun with your nerves. But you decide this time to play her game, unlike other times when you didn’t know what to answer.
"I don’t know? Does it get serious between us or do I have to go get Emma’s number?"
Katie’s eyebrows immediately frown and it’s your turn to hold back an amused smile. You do so with extreme accuracy.
"Don’t you dare"
"Otherwise what?" you ask with amusement as you lift your face up to hers.
But Katie answers nothing, taken to her own game, and just pouts. Her two hands slide on each side of your face to finish in your hair and put back the few strands that were on your face.
"I want you to be mine"
"I told you last night, Katie, I’ve been yours for a long time now."
"Mine only?"
"Of course"
"Mine only in like no one has touched you in a long time?"
"No one since you"
This information seems to satisfy Katie, whose body relax under yours. Her question obviously attracts your curiosity, but you’re not sure that you want to know the answer. Unless it’s obviously what you’re hoping for.
"Stop beating your brains out. I haven’t been with anyone since that kiss in the hallway either" Katie says after a few seconds.
"You really know how to talk to women" you grumble while rolling your eyes, however relieved of this information.
Katie laughs for good this time, putting her hands on your hips to make you turn and find herself above you. A new laugh escapes from her lips when she hears your little cry of surprise, but all this is interrupted when she kisses you.
"Just to be clear, you’re my girlfriend now, yeah?"
You almost want to tease her a little more, but when you see her face tinged with a certain form of shyness, you change your mind. Instead you stretch your neck to lay a kiss on the corner of her jaw.
"With great pleasure" you answer.
"Nice" Katie grins before kissing you again.
538 notes · View notes
xiaoxo · 21 days
Text
₊˚·७ YOU’RE MINE, ALL MINE
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featuring — xiao, scaramouche, kaedehara kazuha, shikanoin heizou, y/l/n y/n
summary — a guy comes up to you and starts flirting with you. even when you mention you have a boyfriend, he doesn’t back off. how does your boyfriend react to the situation?
warnings — xiao, scara, kazuha, and heizou x gn!reader (separate), self indulgent, smut, jealous boys, creepy men (not any of the l/i’s), slightly sub!scaramouche with dom!reader, slight mentions of violence, established relationship in xiao, kazuha, & heizou’s, possessiveness from reader & scara but relationship not established until the end of drabble, reader and itto are best friends in kazu’s, spanking & degration in heizou’s, mentions of reader’s mother being famous for her looks in kazu’s, xiangling and shenhe make an appearance in xiao’s <3
messages from the stars — jealous boys are my weakness. sorry the banners kinda dark i found it darker than most of my banners </3
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𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎
one day, you were busy shopping in liyue harbor. you decided to have lunch at wanmin restaurant, hoping your friend, xiangling, would be there.
thankfully she was and you ordered your food and caught up. it was then that a stranger came up and asked to sit beside you since all the seats were taken.
you obliged but were wary. something about this man was off. he wore the attire of a treasure hoarder but looked like he was trying to disguise himself.
“you…you’re very pretty,” he said, looking at you. you gulped nervously. “thank you,” you mumbled, continuing your conversation with xiangling.
the man was breathing heavily while staring at you, which creeped you out. “do you need something from them, sir?” xiangling asked. “a date, yes,” he said bluntly. “i’m sorry, i have a boyfriend.” “he don’t gotta know.” he smirked and winked at you.
“i’m sure he’d find out one way or another,” you explained, shaking your head. “y/n, is this man bothering you?” shenhe asked after serving a customer, immediately noticing your nervous expression.
“no, we’re just having a friendly chat,” the man tried assuring. “i asked them, not you,” she said sternly. you gave her a subtle nod.
“excuse me sir, i’m going to have to ask you to leave the restaurant,” xiangling said, standing up and brushing herself off.
“you can’t kick me out! i’m a dedicated customer,” he said gruffly. “now sweetheart, how about that date?” he turned his attention to you. “no, i don’t think xiao or me would like that.”
suddenly, the adeptus appeared in front of them. “you— you’re dating the vigilant yaksha?” he stammered. “who are you?” xiao crossed his arms, asking sternly.
“this man has appeared to make y/n uncomfortable, asking them out despite dating you,” shenhe explained the situation.
“is that so?” xiao looked at the man with piercing eyes. “i— i didn’t know they were dating you! i promise not to interfere,” he said nervously, stumbling over his words.
the man breathed heavily and fearfully before getting out of his seat and rushing off. you let out a sigh of relief.
“let’s go,” he told you, helping you get up. he kept a possessive grip around your waist as he held you, teleporting to wangshu inn.
once he got you in his room, he ripped yours and his clothes off and tossed you on the bed.
“who does he think he is? talking to my lover,” xiao huffed, pounding into you. “mmph! xiao,” you moaned out, gripping the sheets below you.
you came abruptly, feeling your juices spilling onto the bed. xiao just watched as your hole overflowed, leaking out. “if you think we’re done, you’re wrong. i still need to make sure you know you’re mine.”
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𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄
you were waiting for scaramouche to show up to a meeting he planned with you and a couple other fatui members. he wasn’t one to miss meetings, at least with you, but he was running late this time.
it wasn’t long before one of the members approached you and tried having a conversation with you. “so are you from around here?” he asked, a creepy smile plastered on his face.
“yes, you can say that,” you explained, crossing your arms. it was a bad idea, seeing the man’s eyes drift onto your cleavage through your form-fitting top with a v-neck. you immediately uncrossed your arms, huffing in annoyance.
archons, what was taking scaramouche so long?
“how about you and i get out of here and ditch this meeting? there seems to be some obvious tension between us,” he said in a sultry tone, smirking. “no, i’m fine, thanks.” you brushed him off, continuing to look around for scaramouche.
“oh come on, sweetheart, don’t play hard to get,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “back. off.” scaramouche’s voice was heard, gripping the man’s hand tightly and slowly pulling it off.
“lord scaramouche!” the man stammered. “who do you think you are touching other subordinates?” “i-i just…i thought they liked me! so i wanted to—” “like you? who would like utter trash like you? let alone someone as skilled as y/n,” he scoffed, turning to face you.
the man glanced at you then back at him. “i-i-i’m sorry, lord scaramouche! i won’t ever assume again,” he said, almost pleading for him to be spared. “you’re fired. get out of my sight,” he told him, crossing his arms.
the ex-fatui member scurried away. “you’re coming with me.” scaramouche grit his teeth, dragging you to the hotel where he was staying.
when you entered the hotel room, he pinned you against the wall of his bedroom. “don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, smirking. “ha! how little do you think of me? i merely need to remind you that you belong to me. you’re under my command,” he told you.
“oh i might be, but in bed,” you pushed him onto the bed, “you’re under mine.” you kissed him before he could deny anything. “even if we aren’t together, you’re mine and mine alone,” you breathed out, straddling his lap.
pinning him to the bed, you peppered kisses throughout his face and neck, leaving dark and deep hickies. grinding on his lap, he stifled a moan. something about being dominated was exciting. sure he liked being in control, but maybe it was okay to lower his guard around you, especially with you making him feel so good.
“y/n, ahh!” he moaned, feeling you suck on the spot that made his eyes roll back. you left a dark red hickey, officially marking him yours. pulling away, you admired your work, enjoying him all marked up by you and you alone.
stripping out of both your clothes, you lined his cock up with your entrance, sliding down. “you don’t know..how long i’ve been waiting for this,” you sighed out, riding him and leaning down.
your hands wrapped around his neck. it wasn’t like he needed to breathe, but the act was so arousing to him, just to be touched so explicitly made his body run in excitement.
you tried keeping your composure, but scaramouche’s cock was just so good. he hit all the right spots and split you in half perfectly. running your fingers in his hair, you kissed him again.
feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, you whimpered an “ ‘m close,” to him. “a—ahh! me too, y/n,” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “god you’re adorable. your moans for me are the cutest!♡︎” you told him, smirking down at him.
cumming intensely, scaramouche shot his sperm into your hole, filling you up entirely.
both coming down from your high, you didn’t lose eye contact. “you’re mine now, all fucking mine.”
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𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀
kazuha wasn’t usually the jealous type, but seeing you talking with itto sparked the unfamiliar feeling in his chest. the way you got along with him so well made him think of his times with you. sure you had things in common but the way you got along with itto just seemed like he was a better fit for you.
“kazu, you’re here!” you exclaimed, seeing your boyfriend. you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly. “missed you,” you murmured in his ear, and suddenly he had nothing to worry about.
“itto, this is my boyfriend, kaedehara kazuha,” you explained, smiling at your best friend. “b—boyfriend? wait, you’re the one who blocked the shogun’s attack!” itto started asking him a dozen and a half questions.
“itto!” you snapped, telling him to tone it down. “sorry, sorry! i’m arataki “the one and oni” itto!” he gave his dramatic introduction, brushing his hair. kazuha awkwardly smiled, glancing at you.
“he’s a bit much,” you muttered, winking at him.
during dinner, you would not stop talking about itto and yours escapades, having stars in your eyes as you recalled every moment. of course kazuha was grateful you were having fun with friends but when you mentioned he had a childhood crush on your mom when he was younger made the pit in his stomach come back.
your mother was one of inazuma’s beauties growing up. her looks spread across the region and may people tried courting her. unfortunately, only a narcissistic asshole caught her eye, fooling her with his ‘charms’ and manipulation.
what if itto sought after you because you reminded him of your mom? would he even make a move on you? in reality, itto wouldn’t dream of it, viewing you as only his best friend and respecting that you had a boyfriend.
“what about itto makes him so interesting to talk about?” he suddenly asked, making your expression drop. “i just…we’ve been hanging out a lot together, i wanted to fill you in,” you murmured. now he felt a little bad, seeing he ruined the mood for you.
“i’m sorry darling, please keep talking.” your expression brightened, continuing your rambling about yours and itto’s prank on shinobu.
later that night, you rested in the same bed as him, reading a book. but, kazuha wanted you. after seeing you with itto, he needed to feel you again, feel your body against his as he came inside you over and over.
“y/n,” he began, clasping your wrist. “yes?” you placed your book down. “i…i need you,” he admitted bashfully. you smiled at him, closing your book after marking where you left off.
turning around, you leaned in and kissed him, bringing him onto your lap. he pecked and nibbled at your lips, tasting your lipgloss. his hands went to pull your nightgown off.
now completely bare for him, you looked up at him with an embarrassed expression. “t— take your clothes off too, it’s not fair that i’m the only one naked,” you mumbled shyly. kazuha chuckled at your usual shyness when it came to activities like this.
“as you wish, my dear,” he cooed, undressing out of his white shirt and boxers. he lined his cock up with your entrance, pushing in. he stifled a moan as he thrusted into you at a steady pace.
“mm, kazu,” you moaned out, biting your lip. kazuha leaned down and roughly made out with you, licking and biting at your lip. he couldn’t get enough of you.
as he thrusted in and out, he couldn’t help but admire you—your sinful expression, the drool pooling at the sides of your mouth, and the way your walls wrapped around his cock so perfectly.
“a— ah love, i’m gonna— mmh!” he groaned, feeling the knot tighten in his stomach. “me too— kazu! mmph!” he kissed you roughly with a bit of possessiveness. his fingers dug into your skin as he rode out his high with you.
“i love you, darling,” he cooed softly. “only you.”
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𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔
it was finally time for you to exact your revenge on your boyfriend. for months, he’s been teasing and making you jealous. now, it was finally time to give him a taste of his own medicine.
a new member was appointed at the tenryou commission and you were tasked with showing him the ropes. you could tell he was into you, from his stammered speech and flushed cheeks.
you would purposefully linger your hands on his and whisper in his ear, sending chills down his spine. “you’re doing so well, you’re a natural at this,” you would coo.
it was when heizou entered your office with a bouquet of flowers that he found you giggling with the new member.
he immediately halted in his steps upon seeing you caress the man’s arm, seeing his face heat up at your touch.
“oh, heizou!” you exclaimed, finally acknowledging your boyfriend. “y/n, who’s this?” he asked, glaring daggers into the man. “this is hayakawa-san, he’s a new member of the tenryou commission. i’ve been tasked with showing him the ropes.”
“i see,” he said flatly. “i-i can leave,” hayakawa stammered. “no it’s fine—” “if you could, please. i need some time alone with y/n,” heizou interrupted. the man rose out of his seat and scampered out of the room.
heizou placed the flowers on the coffee table, approaching you. you stood up to greet him with an innocent kiss but he flipped you over and bent you over the table.
he pulled your shorts down and gave you a rough slap against your ass. “you little slut, thinking you can whore yourself out to the newest member of the tenryou commission,” he said, giving your ass another slap.
you whimpered, biting your lip. “just have to show you your mine, huh?” he chuckled, pulling his cock out. lining it up with your hole, he slowly slid in your tight hole.
both of you sighed in relief, heizou breathing out with each thrust into you. “mine, all fucking mine!” he said aloud, looking at the way your ass bounced with his thrusts.
“no matter who i flirt with, who you flirt with, you’ll always be mine, okay baby?” his voice changed as he whispered in your ear, caressing the dip in your back. “but will you be mine?” you retorted, huffing before letting out a moan.
heizou pursed his lips together. the only reason he flirted was to rile you up. he didn’t intend on making you question your relationship. “all yours, y/n. only yours.”
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