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#also that line 'they were my age but they were loved and i wasn't'
natailiatulls07 · 2 days
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I have to say, your Charles fics where he is/acts like a father are my favorite (the marguerite series and now the recent one) i'd love to keep seeing more ❤
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Jules Bianchi x Daughter!reader
Charles Leclerc x little sister!reader
Summary - It's his home race, his family are there and his win; All through Marguerites eyes
Warning - Mention of Herve Leclerc's death, mention of alcohol
A/n - I'm back oops! Sorry I haven't posted in a month, to cut a long story short alot of shit happened in my life and I took an unexpected break lol. Also @nikfigueiredo thank you babes <333
(The blue bold text is Sky f1 commentary)
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26.05.2024
The atmosphere in Ferrari hospitality was tense. Well everywhere was tense but espercially in Ferrari. Charles Leclerc was leading the Monaco Grand Prix, leading his home race.
Somewhere special to him and his loved one. He grew up on these streets and to win is something he and his late had grown up dreaming.
"There's his family watching on; Alexandra is partner, Pascale is mother and of course his adopted little sister Y/n, who is the daughter of the late Jules Bianchi."
I could feel the Sky camera panning towards me and the rest of the family but I was too stressed. Alexandra was stood beside me and I didn't need to look away from the large screen to know that she was fiddling nervously with her bracelets, much like how I was fidgeting with long strands of my hair.
I watched as the laps ticked closer to 78, one by one slowly. It was really an out of body experience. Part of me knew there was people around but I couldn't care less for them, keeping focused on Charlie.
"And for the first time in 93 years, this favoured race is won by one of their own. Charles Leclerc wins the Monaco Grand Prix to achieve his dream; Victory in his home race!"
Only then did I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Once again the Sky camera is focused on me and Alexandra, but we don't care.
A soft touch shocks me out of my awe and whipping my head around, I see Alexandra looking at me with a excited smile.
"He did! Oh Marguerite, he did!" Her voice is surprisingly smoothing compared to the rest of hospitality. I just echo that same smile before wrapping my arms around her neck as I let out a shaky breath.
Behind Alexandra stand Pascale who captures my eyes, she has small tears on the edge of her water line. It wasn't hard to understand why she had tears in her eyes. I remember the day that we were told Herve Leclerc passed away, of course I was young but I could vividly remember it.
Pulling away from the hug, I feel a sudden surge of energy and excitement. In completely contrast to during the race, I start bouncing on my feet and laughing eagerly.
Turning to random people on our way out of the Ferrari hospitality. "Charlie won the race! His home race!" In return I would get sweet smile and laughs of joy.
-
"We can see Y/n Bianchi once again, I think she definitely rivaling Charles Leclerc in excitement right now. Not that long ago, we saw her excitedly talking to Jenson which was a funny thing to watch!"
We make it down to the track in time for the podium. Most of our trip down to the track was spent with Pascale and/or Alexandra pulling me away from restlessly talking to people about his win.
I look up at the podium, I watch as Carlos, Oscar and then Charles all make their ways to their respective steps. We watch as they are handed their trophies and as Prince Albert gives Charlie multiple thrilled hugs.
During the Monegasque national athems, I notice how his eyes floats down to us. Instantly the smiles on both mine and his face widens, finally feeling joy together. After the first athem, I join the Ferrari crew and staff in happily singing the Italian national athems.
"You know we need to get Y/n on to do something with the Sky f1 team because she seems like a sweet young lady and we know that fans her age love her!"
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Whilst waiting for the team debriefing to finish; Me, Alexandra, Pascale, Arthur, Lorenzo and his girlfriend, Charlotte, were all given the now empty Ferrari hospitality to relax.
"Can you believe?! Oh I'm so happy for him!" Unlike everyone, I couldn't hold in my excitement and I was frantically bouncing in my spot between Charlotte and Alexandra. It didn't help that I was running on close to no sleep and some random energy drink.
Everyone just laughed shaking their heads softly. "Oh my god! We need to celebrate! Maybe even my first ever drink!?" I look over towards Pascale, she was practically like a grandmother to me.
She just laughs, giving me a knowning look before replying to me. "That's up to Charlie, don't ask me..."
"Up to me? What's up to me?" His voice comes out of no where, we all quickly turn to face the entrance and there he was stood still in racing suit.
I don't wait a second before rushing over to him and jumping into a hug, something we haven't done in a few years. "You did it! You did it!" I can feel the rumble of his laughter as his arms tighten around me. "I'm so proud of you!" I whisper gently.
Unknown to me, everyone in the room is tearing up. All so proud of Charlie but just in awe of the sweet moment between him and the most loving teenage ever.
"Also can I have my first drink tonight whilst we celebrate? Please!" With a pout on my face, I look up to his face but as soon as he shakes his head with a smirk, my pout turns into a frown and everyone around us just laughs knowingly.
-
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riickgrimes · 1 year
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Just finished watching Across the Spider-verse and if y'all haven't seen it yet, go watch it now!!!!
Without a shred of exaggeration, I feel like it's one of the greatest things I've ever seen. Not just among movies. Among everything my beady little eyes have rested upon.
I might see it again tomorrow-- it was that good.
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withahappyrefrain · 4 months
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Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd
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Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.
Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.
Words: 4.8K
This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!
When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 
“God, I wish that were me.”
It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 
But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 
It also brought up many questions. 
Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 
Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 
All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 
Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 
Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 
The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 
“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”
“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 
“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”
“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”
“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”
Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 
At least that's what the other thought. 
It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 
“Been awhile?” 
And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 
“Try never.” 
It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 
“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 
“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 
You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 
You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 
“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 
Darn those long limbs. 
“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 
“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 
Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 
College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 
And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 
Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 
“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 
Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 
You rubbed your thighs together. 
“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 
Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 
Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 
Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 
“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 
His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 
Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 
“You…like doing it?” 
The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 
It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 
He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 
“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 
“You don't have to wait.” 
The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 
But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 
You heard me. 
“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 
Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 
“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 
“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 
All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 
Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 
The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 
For what, you couldn't tell. 
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 
“Do you want it to be different?” 
What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?
“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 
He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”
He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  
“I asked you second, Robby.”
Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 
“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 
It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 
He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 
“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 
But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 
Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 
“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 
Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 
“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 
It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 
When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 
“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 
Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 
It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 
“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 
“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 
“God, you have terrible taste in men.”
You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 
How could he do that so quickly? 
He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 
When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 
Thank god your parents were on vacation. 
His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 
Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 
“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 
“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 
But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 
“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  
He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 
Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 
“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”
“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 
His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 
Good. 
You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 
God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 
And he had just gotten started. 
He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 
But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 
The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.
“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 
“Robby.” 
To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 
Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 
A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 
Was he this thick elsewhere?
You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 
Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 
You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 
But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 
He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 
Why did either of you wait this long? 
You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 
But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 
When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 
He really did enjoy it.
“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 
Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.
Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 
You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 
His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 
The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 
“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 
Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 
“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 
Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 
How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 
Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 
Jesus Christ, he was huge. 
“Fuck, she was right.” 
Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 
“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 
Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 
“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 
“I….we can unpack this later-” 
You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 
Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 
Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 
“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 
Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 
“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 
Darlin. You were his darlin. 
He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 
Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 
Even he didn't know when he would return home. 
It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 
“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 
His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 
“I don't want you to go.” 
“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 
“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 
“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 
Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 
“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 
“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 
Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 
Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 
He was going to need it for the next few months. 
Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 
“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 
The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 
“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 
Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 
“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.
“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 
Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 
Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 
“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 
Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 
In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 
His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 
You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 
It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 
“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 
Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 
“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 
Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 
But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 
His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 
That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 
But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 
“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 
Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 
Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 
The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 
His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 
You’d be a damn fool to. 
The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 
After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 
Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 
You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 
He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 
“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 
“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 
The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 
The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 
Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.
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@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky
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mickyschumacher · 7 months
Note
can i request something for carlos sainz x leclerc!reader on vacation?there’s such a soft spot in me for summer vacation carlos like in a beach setting or on a yacht. it can be soft or smutty it doesn’t matter i just love summery carlos. thank you!!!
𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐈 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: while the leclercs maybe spending their summer vacation at home, you opted for a secret vacation in santorini with your secret boyfriend, carlos sainz. or in which you are secretly dating your brother's teammate.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), reader dob in 1999, dating in secret trope!, sainz & leclerc = google translated spanish & french ._., ig the reader has a shaved downstairs?, p in v, teasing, oral sex, lovey dovey smut?, poor humour, breastplay, fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, scandal and swift references, love confessions.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x younger leclerc!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+
𝐀/𝐍: firm agree on the summery carlos! is it really my writing if i don't get santorini involved? anyways, hope this was up to your standards! sorry for the long wait! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Dating your brother's teammate was never on your bucket list. Hell, you tried to stay away from Formula 1. Well, as much as Leclerc could anyways.
People older than you weren't really your type. You opted for people near your age. That way there wasn't an awkward generation gap and there was no one that reminded you of your older brothers. Carlos was only five years older than you but the generational gap was most certainly there.
Men your age were... well, boys.
Men Carlos' age were men but also men.
You had seen Carlos at races before. And he was an attractive man, obviously. But that was that. You passed each other down the paddock, barely giving each other a glance. And not to mention the obvious, you were far too young for him at the time.
But then Ferrari's first car launch after signing Carlos had happened.
You had seen Carlos more in the few hours the event lasted than the past few years. You didn't know what it was. Whether you were unintentionally stalking him or vice versa. What you did know, however, he was definitely eyeing you.
By the time Charles had introduced you, Arthur, Lorenzo, and your mother, Carlos was trying to keep his interest at bay, pretending to be as family-friendly as possible.
Carlos ended up catching you as you came out of the bathroom, smoothly asking for your number. And as much as you wanted to give it to him, you weren't going to be easy. You were a Leclerc for crying out loud.
If Carlos wanted you, he would have to earn you.
And boy did he try.
You had heard from several people and the Internet that Carlos was a hardcore romantic. You never thought about it up until he started pulling out all the stops.
He was attentive as hell, remembering your favourite drinks, slipping you a new book to read as he talked to Charles, purposely linking his pinky with yours as discreetly as he could just so he could see you flush in front of him, sending you clothes for you to wear to his races to your apartment...
Carlos was menace.
But somewhere along the line, he became your menace.
You and Carlos were the epitome of the saying 'Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours'.
Keeping it secret... sure it was frustrating at times. The both of you had person after person trying to get with you because, well, you were a Leclerc and he was Carlos Sainz. Carlos had managed to draw a line by telling people he had a girlfriend but he didn't want to reveal her.
Yeah... it didn't settle well with the grid, in particular the three gossipers of the grid: Pierre, Lando, and your brother.
But after all the little bumps in the road, it was smooth sailing.
Most of the time you spent time together was alone, just the two of you. That way, there was no risk of being caught and you could revel in each other.
Of course, it wasn't that easy. Nothing was easy with you and Carlos, especially given that you couldn't keep your hands off of one another. Carlos a slight more than you because you had the decency and fear of embarrassment of getting caught by anyone. Carlos, on the other hand, was as indecent as they come. Hands always looking for an excuse to touch you, eyes travelling to find you first in any room, sending dirty texts when you sat across him... like you said, he was a menace.
To make things easier for yourself, for this summer break, you and Carlos had picked trusty Santorini as a romantic getaway, taking his dog Piñon as a welcomed third wheeler. Filled with so many tourists that you and Carlos would look like any regular couple there.
"Now this is a summer break," You breathed out, walking on to the yacht you had rented out for your stay in Greece. The air was clean and crisp, the sun was already beating down on you despite it being nine in the morning, and the translucent blue waters brought you a sense of familiarity that Monaco held.
"Don't you agree, Piñon?" You cooed to the soft ball of white curled up into your arms. A small bark of agreement came from the dog, tail wagging in happiness.
Carlos chuckled behind you, putting down your bags on the deck, under the shade. His thick arms enveloped your waist, bringing you closer to him. Nestling his chin into your shoulder, he said, "That's good, hermosa (beautiful). Now try saying it in Spanish."
You made a face at his teasing tone. Pulling yourself out of his grasp, you turned towards him. "Ahora son unas vacaciones de verano. ¿No estás de acuerdo, mi querido Carlos?" You recreated the same coaxing tone you had given Piñon to your lover, pinching his cheek with the energy of an overly endearing mother. Now this is a summer break. Don't you agree, my dear Carlos?
Carlos gave you a pointed look. You were teasing him. You knew he liked when you spoke Spanish because it was cute to see you fumble over the words but it also meant a lot to him that you were trying.
You rolled your eyes at his reaction and settled Piñon on the deck after making sure it wasn't too hot for those small paws of his. You watched him trot around the yacht, carefully examining his surrounding to test his boundaries.
Satisfied that Piñon was safe, you turned back to Carlos. "Brunch?"
"Brunch..." Carlos trailed off, hand reaching out to your face. The soft pad of his thumb graze your lips, gently pulling on your bottom lip to watch it bounce back. "...or brunch?" He asked, voice heavy with a clear need.
Your body thrived with an eagerness to respond to his touch. Goosebumps were the paint to the canvas of your skin, littering each part of you even though you were impossibly warm in the sun. You really wanted brunch. But your stomach wanted brunch. Instead, you simply nodded to him, agreeing with the answer he had never said. "You're right. Food is very important."
Carlos groaned at your response. "Hermosa," He sighed out, bringing his arms around your waist to pull you close yet again. "I want you," He murmured against your skin, nose brushing against your cheek and hot breath wandering down your neck.
Carlos could feel you smile at his words. "And you have me... for two whole weeks," You reminded him, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek.
Carlos curled his lip in annoyance at your reminder while he revelled in your touch. "I could have you for four," He also reminded you.
You sighed. You hadn't seen him in three weeks because life had it's mysterious ways of making the both of you busy. You wanted nothing more than a month with Carlos. But it was far too suspicious.
You had barely convinced your mother and your brothers that you were going to Santorini for a 'self-exploration' trip. Charles had immediately offered to turn it into a family trip but you managed to settle him down by saying you would spend the last two weeks with them. Alexandra had been a sweetheart in the matter as well. She was the only one, as well as Kika and Lily, that had known about you and Carlos, claiming they sensed it from 'a mile away'.
What they truly meant was that Carlos wouldn't stop eye-fucking you from a far.
"It's okay," You mumbled woefully, patting his chest softly, "I'll be with you in spirit while you reign Madrid."
Carlos held in his eye roll at your theatrics, you had a flair for them. "I wish you would reign Madrid with me instead. I want you to meet the family, let me finally teach you golf, go to the holiday house with me, hmm?" He implored, chocolate brown flickering to search yours.
The pain behind your eyes made him feel frustrated. He knew how much you wanted to do that because you wanted the same thing with your family. "How 'bout I call Charles, hmm? I'm sure he'll understand."
The thought of Charles finding out from anyone but you made you shudder. Would he understand? What was so understandable about hiding the fact you were dating his teammate for over a year, especially over a call?
Arthur, amongst Charles and Lorenzo, would probably be the most hurt. You and him told each other everything. You guys were the closest in age, similar to how Lorenzo and Charles were. Hell, you even helped him confess and get with Carla. And he was waiting to do the same for you, with some he trusted and knew.
And Lorenzo? It was really for the best if he didn't know from Carlos. He had initially told you not to get too close to any of the drivers because he was worried for you and well, the reputation of F1 drivers and dating wasn't too great. But you were quite sure that anything you and Carlos did had crossed the line of 'too close'. '
"Carlos, mi amor, I love you, but I think the idea of brunch, not brunch, is more understanding."
━━━━━━━━━━━
After your brunch, you had spent some time reading to Carlos inside the yacht, not wanting to get into the water just after you had eaten nor wanting to go out when the sunshine was at it's peak.
It was serene.
The windows were open, letting a cool breeze come and help reduce the heat and you were both sprawled on the soft mattresses that served as sofas on the floor of the yacht. The calmness and peace you had desired amongst the chaos life and F1 brought.
You were half sure that Carlos was close to falling asleep in your lap, but not by your retelling of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, after Carlos refused to see Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen for the sixth time this year, but by the way your combed your hand through his hair as you read. (Although you were still going to be persistent because the concept of seeing those two on screen in Santorini out of all places was a need, not a want).
"Carlos, mon beau (my handsome), you're going to fall asleep. Let's go swimming," You told him, placing your bookmark in between the pages and closing the book.
Carlos groaned, looking up at you. He held your hand close to his chest. "No, it's way too hot. Don't you see the water? It looks like lava."
You narrowed your eyes. "That precisely why we should go swimming. We can't just sit here and mope around. We're in Santorini... we need to stand up and move around."
Carlos lifted his head from your lap, sitting straight so he faced you. You let out a quick yelp when he pulled you forward, placing you onto his lap, legs straddling him. "I can think about fifty ways to stand up and move around... in fifty different positions."
You could feel your thighs involuntarily clench around him. You know he felt it to. You gasped at his words and shook your head. "You are a heathen, Carlos Sainz. A barbarian... a hooligan, a sexually-driven simpleton must I continue?"
"Well, I recall you loving this heathen, infidel, barbarian, and hooligan," Carlos shrugged, warm hands inching up the white sundress you had worn this morning. The action sent a shudder down your spine.
"Carlos," You mumbled, already falling into a state where you were losing the words to speak your thoughts as Carlos kneaded the flesh of your thighs with his rough hands.
"Yes?" Those puppy brown eyes flickered to your eyes while he brought his mouth to your thighs, opting to graze your heated skin with the teeth. "Tell me what you want, hermosa. And I'll give it to you."
You faltered at his words. His gaze was heavy with a dark blaze that sent your stomach churning. You allowed yourself to fully straddle Carlos' lap, teeth sinking into your bottom lip when you felt Carlos' clothed bulge press into your core.
Carlos struggled to prevent a strained hiss escape his gritted teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening, your flesh escaping the confines of his hands. Fuck, were your thighs so enticing to Carlos. He wanted to bite them and bruise them so even weeks later, they were covered in the reminiscents of him.
"What do you want, baby? Please tell me," Carlos begged, eyes desperately searching your own for any sign or indication of what you wanted.
You felt your core clench at the plea falling from Carlos' plump lips. You hadn't even really done anything but he was ready to serve you. Everything was foggy. You couldn't think straight. "I want... I want you, Carlos. Fuck, anything, everything... I–make love to me. Show me how much you love me."
His roaming hands came to a halt. "Mierda (shit)," Carlos cursed, bringing his tongue to swipe his bottom lip.
He could do that. He would love you so much that the entirety of Santorini would know and no one would even question your relationship with him.
Carlos brought his hands to your back, feeling the numerous strings of your dress against the pads of his fingers. One hand worked to undo the very knots he had done this morning while the other creeped up the back of your neck, pulling your head closer to his.
He brought his lips to yours, pressing them with an indescribable urgency. Your hands shot out to his chest, fisting the soft material of the polo you had chosen for him into a small bundle.
You gasped into the kiss, feeling a sudden breeze of cold air as the strings of your dress fell flat against your skin. Carlos' hands wandered down the surface of your back, coming to a stop at your waist.
The urge to get even closer to you coursed through Carlos' veins, pulling you flush against him. A moan fell from his swollen lips as you parted to fill the craving of some oxygen. Your pussy was pressed tight against his cock and your breasts were soft, pushed against his chest.
Carlos ventured to move his lips down the side of your jaw, edging towards your barren neck, aching to decorate you with aging and unique shades of purple and blue.
You let out a series of sinful whimpers upon the feeling of your skin being sucked at, feeding directly into his constrained cock. "Carlos..." You moaned out, eyes shut in pure pleasure, "They'll know. The–They'll ask q-questions."
"I know." You shivered as you feel him grin against your skin.
You watched him through your half-lidded eyes, moving up from your neck to look at you with his blistering gaze. With one simple movement, he took off his shirt, revealing his taut golden skin. Christ.
You sat still breathlessly on his lap as Carlos peeled off your dress, pulling your arms through the white material. The cool breeze trickled over your bare breasts, nipples hardening almost instantly.
Carlos let a warm hand rest over your rib, lifting you gently to remove your dress fully. He sighed, laying you down on the mattress. The tips of his fingers travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, the hairs of your body standing straight at his touch.
"You know what it is a tragedy, hermosa?" Carlos queried, watching you quiver underneath him, chest heavily rising up and down.
He smiled at your asking through your eyes because the words just couldn't come out of your throat. "You will never see yourself the way I see you. Eres una sirena... obra de Dios. If He didn't put you on this Earth that would've been his biggest sin." You are a siren… God's work.
If your throat wasn't tied up before, it surely was now. You looked at him with a soft gaze, watching him come near you to press his lips on your own. You whimpered, feeling his hands travel towards your breasts, fondling your mounds with a cautious roughness that sent your stomach tingling.
You frowned at the loss of his lips but the complaint subsided upon the feel of his hot tongue swirling around your pebbled nipple. He paid attention to every flick and every crevice, keeping his deep eyes trained on you. He smiled at your hiss as he purposely grazed his teeth against your nipple.
Carlos removed his lips from your nipple, moving his head back to hover over your pussy. Still keeping his eyes on you, you watched in silence as the hot saliva fell from his lips, bubbly strings landing directly onto your glistening folds. Fucking hell.
"Eyes on me, baby," He told you, looking at your clenched eyes.
Your eyes shot open as Carlos took one long stripe of your folds, your hips bucking at the sudden sensation. Lingering a second too long on your clit, his tongue continued to work up towards your stomach and the valley of your breasts, returning his attention to your other nipple.
Your mouth fell open, feeling his fingers rub your wet folds, spreading his saliva around your pussy. While his tongue worked your nipple, he thrusted a thick finger into your walls. With your eyes rolling back, you attempted to fist the thick material of the mattress but to no avail.
"Fuckk, Carlos," You whimpered, writhing at his touch.
"Finally found your words, hmm?" Carlos teased, adding another finger into his torturous slow pace. His eyes were glued to watching your hips out of his periphery, snapping up to try and ride his fingers. As laboured breaths fell from your lips, he pushed his digits even further, aiming to reach a specific spot.
Smoothly, Carlos grabbed a nearby pillow, putting it under your lower back to bring you some comfort and a whole new level of pleasure. He stared at your face intently: your mouth had fallen wide open with a ghost whisper of his name flowing into the air, sweat glistened over your flushed face, pooling near the edges of your hair and neck, and your lips were swollen with the prettiest shade of red he had ever seen.
"Carlos," You managed to get out with your brain practically turning into jelly. "Carlos, please, I don't want to cum like this. I need your cock, please."
Carlos' cock throbbed at your pleas. "Your wish is my command, princesa."
Hearing your whines upon the loss of his fingers, Carlos took off his blue shorts faster than he had ever done in his life.
Even though you had been with Carlos sexually for a while, your cheeks still flamed when you saw his cock. Not out of embarrassment or unadulterated innocence. No. It was outright heat that was getting to you.
Every time you saw his cock, it was a violent shade of red, throbbing and aching, leaving Carlos begging to be touched by you.
You watched as Carlos leaned forward, hovering over you. It was beyond you how exactly pretty Carlos was. You hadn't realised until he started courting you. You had no idea how you were supposed to live without seeing his thicket of brown locks, his freckles that could only be depicted if you were close to him otherwise they blended with his prickly stubble, the smug smile he constantly wore to hide himself, and especially his big brown eyes that made you bend to his command.
"Carlos?" You softly called out.
Carlos' ears perked up at your gentle tone. He smiled down at you with raised brows. His hands continued to travel your body, retracing every curve and fold as he had committed to his memory. "Sí, mi hermosa?"
You ran a hand through his hair before caressing his cheek. God, he was your beautiful boy. "Je t'aime plus que tu ne peux l'imaginer." I love you more than you can imagine.
You knew he didn't speak French despite spending this many years with Charles but it often comes from you naturally when you were too caught up in your feelings.
"Je ne pense pas que ce soit le cas. You don't know how my every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. I can't breathe without you. Every race, I hope you're there waiting for me because you're pretending to wait for Charles. Hermosa, I exist for you. No one else." I don't think you do.
Your eyes widened, fresh tears lining your waterline. "You understood–you learned French?" You whispered, voice barely audible.
Carlos grinned. "I'm quite sure I said a lot of after that but yes, I did learn French for you... surprise!"
You suppressed the urge to push him off of you and gave him a long kiss. Pulling back, you laughed gently. "You're an idiot... making me cry during sex. And not even in the good way!" You feigned your complaint.
"Well, we still have tonight and thirteen more days. Today I'm just showing how much I love you," He whispered above your lips, hips lining up with yours.
You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling Carlos' cock brush past your folds. You both moaned in unison as he pushed his cock into your pussy. Your walls wrapped around his cock tightly, gripping him like a vice.
Carlos cursed several profanities under his breath, head lolling back while pleasure coursed through his body. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. His cock ached at the high-pitched mewl that fell from your swollen lips.
His hands fell to your hips, holding you tightly, slowly shifting you up and down his length, burying his cock in you.
You closed your eyes, letting your forehead rest on Carlos'. You can feel him staring at you, taking all of you in: every hue of your flushed state, your eyelashes riddled with tears and sweat, the heavenly and sinful sounds from your lips, and your greased hair.
"You are breathtaking," Carlos whispered against you.
You smiled, opening your eyes to meet his and rolling your hips slowly in response. "You make me feel so good," You praised.
A rough moan was elicited from Carlos, throat tight and choked up from your words and actions. He could barely function seeing your bare pussy take his cock so well, let alone how the tip of his cock throbbed when he lifted you up. His own eyes were beginning to shut as he revelled in the ecstasy you brought hip.
Fuck, you were so wet. You looked down at your thighs, seeing the obscene sheen of your arousal coat spread to Carlos' thighs. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, hips snapping to create a rhythm.
"Carlos, I, fuck," You blabbered in complete disarray. You were beginning to seem the edges of a familiar white light.
Although Carlos appreciated the sign, he could tell by the way you were clenched so tightly around his cock, getting his cock to pulsate every few seconds, that you were going to come.
He moved his hands between your legs, watching you sink over his cock one more time before he obstructed the view by using his thumb to rub your clit in circles.
"Mierda," Carlos cussed, feeling you grip his cock even further if it was possible. "Cum for me, mi amor."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You repeated the expletive as if it were a mantra, hips bucking as white clouded your vision. You let out a loud moan, body shaking as waves of your climax hit you one after the other.
Not a second later, Carlos was cumming too. His hips rutted against yours in almost an unrecognisable desperation, the peak of his ecstasy right within his grasp. His cock pulsed while his hips came to a falter, stuttering as ropes of his white cum spilled into you, warming your walls.
"F-Fuck," Carlos groaned, feeling your pussy clamp around him, trying to take every last drop of his cum.
You feel Carlos slump forward into you, exhausted. Gently, you lifted yourself off of his cock, wincing at your sensitivity. You fell straight onto the mattress, panting heavily.
"Shit!" You yelped as Carlos pushed some of his leaking come back into and circle your clit. You shook at the mini aftermath of your orgasm before calming back down.
"Satisfied?" You nudged Carlos playfully, knowing damn well Carlos liked to go the extra mile when it came to you.
"Very," Carlos commented, reaching his arms out to bring you closer to him.
You sighed, resting your head on his chest. The exhaustion was very quickly seeping into the both of you. Carlos' heartbeat was beginning to work as a lullaby and Carlos had found your warmth far more comforting than any mattress or duvet.
"Hermosa," He called, making you hum for you had no energy to speak. "We need to tell them."
You found yourself trying to open your eyes. When had they closed? You turned to face him, chin resting on his heated torso. You pressed a brief kiss and said, "I know. Let's tell them in a few days. So they have at least a week to yell at me."
Carlos frowned at your words. "I'll be right there with you. You know that right? I'm not letting you do this alone."
You smiled after letting out a small yawn. "I know, I know. I'm grateful. Thank you, mi amor."
Carlos returned the gesture, kissing your forehead gently. He rubbed your shoulders, feeling the dark abyss of slumber slowly call to him. "Anything for you, hermosa."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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roosterforme · 1 month
Text
Aim for the Sky Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Deployments feel longer when you're alone and pregnant. You know Bradley wants to be home for all of the milestones, but you also know he trusts you to take care of yourself. That trust goes both ways when it feels like ages since you've heard from him.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, pregnancy
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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You hadn't spoken to your husband in more than three weeks. Not once since he left on a deployment of undetermined length. When you were on base, tucked away in your office or working on a project in the lab, it wasn't so bad. You could almost get lost in the idea of heading home to start dinner and find him working on a project. You could nearly pretend he'd be ready to wrap you up in his arms and ask about your day. But you knew better than to drift all the way into that daydream, because he wasn't there, and you didn't know when he would be back.
At least Tramp greeted you with excitement when you walked in each day, but you suspected that was partially because he knew you were about to feed him. Your friends kept you busy on the weekends, and Jake stopped by the Craftsman on occasion with Jeremiah when Cat needed a break. Today, he even made a comment about the multitude of pallets lined up on your driveway that prevented you from pulling all the way up to where you usually parked.
"When Rooster gets back, I'll give him a hand building that jungle gym," Jake drawled as you handed a cracker to Jeremiah. "We'll have it finished in a weekend, and then Jer can test it out."
You watched Jake kiss Cat's son on the cheek as you said, "He can teach the Nugget all about the slide and the swings when the time comes." Your belly felt a little tender as you ran your hand over your shirt, loving the feel of the bump beneath your fingers. You were nineteen weeks along, and when Bradley left, you'd still looked just bloated. Now you were starting to get round in all the places that made you excited for what was to come. And after so many weeks of non stop nausea and vomiting, you were happy you could finally eat.
Jake snorted. "You've taken to calling the baby a Nugget, too? Thought that was just your husband."
You rolled your eyes and flicked his arm. "Maybe I miss him, okay? Like a lot." Your voice shook even though you were trying for a teasing tone, and Jake's features softened. You quickly asked, "Are you two staying for dinner?"
Jeremiah was such a sweet toddler, and you were so lonely today, you were hoping Jake would say yes. But he kissed you on the cheek before he said, "Not tonight. I told Cat we'd be home by six."
You just nodded, once again afraid your voice might shake. You'd be fine; it wasn't like you needed someone with you all the time. It wasn't like you couldn't get through the night. 
Once they were gone, you made yourself some dinner and ate it while you stood at the kitchen counter. Occasionally you dropped some bites for Tramp who snapped them up out of the air before anything ever hit the ground. 
"Don't tell your dad that this is the reason you beg at the table," you muttered as he sat next to your foot and wagged his tail wildly. Even the veterinarian didn't know exactly how old he was, but he still seemed like a puppy sometimes. You could already picture him and the baby playing together.
Your gaze caught on the newest set of ultrasound photos which you had stacked up at the end of the kitchen counter. The appointment with Dr. Morris made you cry afterwards, because Bradley wasn't there to gush over the baby. You drove his Bronco that day, and you sat quietly trying to compose yourself while enveloped in his smell. He had some older ultrasound images tucked in the sun visor, and you wanted him to see the new ones so badly, you ached.
"I'm going to get ready for bed," you groaned at Tramp even though it was still early. You took a bath with the floating thermometer Bradley bought for you to use while pregnant. You drank a can of ginger ale instead of your preferred pink champagne, and you listened to one of the playlists he made for you. 
When you were climbing in bed, you took the note he left you from your nightstand. It was folded into a paper airplane that looked exactly like his tattoo. He'd even written Baby Girl on it like always. Very carefully, you unfolded it and read the short message that you already had memorized, because it just meant something more in his handwriting.
I love both of you so much, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. Nothing could be this good. There's no way I get to return home to everything I ever wanted. I don't know when I'll be back, so I need you to take care of yourself and the Nugget until I can take over my duties again. I won't be gone a minute longer than I need to be.
You shut your light off before your tears could fall, and Tramp snuggled in next to you. When you thought about Bradley, you pictured him in his bunk. Maybe he was alone. Maybe he was with Reuben. Maybe he was rooming with a different officer. But it didn't matter, because you could easily imagine him practically spilling out of the narrow bed, one knee bent with the pink and blue notebook propped up while he wrote to the baby.
When your phone started ringing in the pitch darkness, you jumped, practically falling out of bed as you reached for your lamp and phone at the same time. It was a FaceTime call. It said restricted caller. You screeched his name, far too loud for your voice which has been resting just seconds ago. You shoved your glasses into place so you could see him, and shouted, "Bradley! Roo! Are you okay?"
"Hey, Baby Girl," he crooned, and his smiling face came into focus. You practically dropped your phone as he said, "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."
You felt giddy laughter bubbling up inside you; the idea of your husband apologizing for calling and making your whole week was absurd. "No, no, no, this is perfect," you insisted. "This is great.
Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."
"Me too," you replied. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are." You missed his warmth and voice so much. It was almost Halloween, and the nights felt way too long. 
His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."
Your smile felt overpowering. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."
"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"
You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."
You propped up your phone and held up one of the photos so he could see the baby. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."
You couldn't help but laugh, feeling better than you had in weeks. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."
"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."
You pulled the ultrasound away and gasped, "You're probably not even joking."
"I'm definitely not even joking."
You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you whispered, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."
Now you felt guilty as he nodded with his lips pressed together. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."
Tears stung your eyes. You could already imagine him holding the baby in his arms, loving him or her no matter what. "Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."
It took him a moment to respond. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."
Your heart swelled. "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."
You wanted to show him how your belly looked more curvy now, but when you and he both parted your lips to speak, you heard someone shouting in the same room as him on the aircraft carrier. Now your husband wasn't looking at you at all. 
"Bradshaw! It's time. Get into your flight suit."
"Yes, Sir," Bradley said before glancing back down.
"You have to go," you sobbed, unaware that you were actually crying until you heard yourself. 
"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."
"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."
"I'll be home soon," he told you earnestly. "I love you."
Then you were standing alone in your kitchen at 4:48 in the morning with tears streaming down your face. The abrupt end to the call set your nerves on edge just seconds after you had been feeling so good. You gripped the edge of your kitchen counter; that wasn't a regular call to order, that was the start of his mission you just witnessed.
There was no chance of you falling asleep again, so you let yourself cry while Tramp put his head down on your bare foot and licked your ankle. 
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Halloween came, and you could barely manage to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. You'd had Bradley with you for the previous two Halloween nights in a row, and this year you didn't even want to buy a costume without him. You were exactly twenty weeks along, approximately halfway through your pregnancy, but it was hard to be excited even as groups of kids ran up and down the sidewalk. 
You sat on your porch and dropped goodie bags into pillowcases and plastic pumpkins while Tramp barked inside the house. You commented on all of the cute costumes. You cried a little bit. Your emotions were all over the place as you tried to imagine what it might be like going out to collect candy a year from now with your baby in a tiny costume. 
When the trick-or-treating ended, you went inside and opened a miniature sized Hershey bar for yourself, and then you almost screamed. The chocolate fell to the floor as you reached for your belly. Tramp looked between you and the fallen treat as you sank down onto your knees.
"Oh my God," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut tight. You could feel the baby moving. It was kind of a wild fluttering sensation. You rubbed your palm against your shirt a little more, and the slight movement felt like a response. Your baby was right there. "Hi, little Nugget." Then you felt something like a soft thump.
You wished more than anything that Bradley was here to witness it. He was going to absolutely freak out when he got home. Then the intrusive thoughts arrived. If he got home. It had been another week and a half since that FaceTime call where he got cut off by a commanding officer. If his mission was completed, he should have called you back by now. But at least you didn't have a fleet admiral dialing your number. 
You didn't move for a long time, not until the baby seemed to get into a cozy position where the movement slowed down and then stopped. When Tramp started sniffing around the candy bar, you crawled over to it and picked it up before he could get any ideas.
Time was simultaneously at a standstill and also moving too fast. In four weeks, it would be Thanksgiving and your first wedding anniversary. You'd been holding off making plans with your parents, because you didn't know what to do. You were already overdue for your anatomy scan, dodging phone calls from Dr. Morris's office when they told you that you absolutely needed to come in for your checkup. They were starting to leave you lengthy messages about how they needed to complete the full scan to be sure there were no underlying issues. 
As you walked to your bedroom, you promised yourself you'd call tomorrow and schedule an appointment. Bradley would miss finding out if the Nugget was a boy or girl, but at least you'd get to see all ten fingers and all ten toes for the first time. You could reveal the news to Bradley when you got to talk to him. You would go to your appointment, because he trusted you to take care of yourself and the baby the best that you could.
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The cafeteria was packed when you walked in with your uniform shirt untucked and your pants unbuttoned. You finally caved and ordered a maternity uniform last week, and Bickel let you cry in his office about how ugly it was before he sent you back to the lab. It should be arriving any day, but for now, you were making do. 
When Nat saw you, she was on her feet heading your way immediately. "Your belly looks bigger!" she gasped, pulling you toward the table where she was sitting with Bob and Maria. "When's Rooster coming home?"
You shrugged miserably. "You think I know? I just work here."
Her laughter made you smile for the first time all day. Your nausea was back a little bit, and you were too afraid to even try to eat anything until you got home later tonight. When Nat scooted her tray closer to the edge of the table to make room for you, she asked, "Where's your lunch?"
You didn't want to lie, but you really didn't want them to pressure you to eat right now. "I think I'll just take something back upstairs with me." As you slid onto the empty spot on the bench, you asked, "Do you know if anyone has heard from Payback?"
You were met with shaking heads which didn't help your mood at all. What the hell was going on with this mission? Your tongue felt too thick, and your saliva practically made you gag as Bob said, "I thought they would have been home by now. Five weeks is a long time for a special mission."
Maria elbowed him in the side, but it's not like he was saying anything you weren't already thinking. This sickening feeling had been inside you for days where you were convinced something went wrong. You just couldn't fathom why you hadn't received a call yet.
"I know," you muttered. "It's okay." But you weren't actually sure if it was or not. It has been months since you had a panic attack where you had to spend a few hours with Dr. Genevieve, but you could feel it building up now. Worrying about Bradley and yourself and the baby all at the same time was mentally and emotionally exhausting.
You pretended to pick up a sandwich before heading toward the elevators in the lobby, and you stopped to throw up in the bathroom before you made it back to your office. Your anatomy scan was scheduled for Friday, almost three weeks after they originally wanted you to come in. If you were still feeling this anxious, you'd block off part of your schedule next week to visit Dr. Genevieve again.
Somehow, even though the only thing on your mind was talking to Bradley, you were shocked when your phone woke you up just before midnight on Wednesday evening. This time you rocketed to your feet as you yanked your phone free from the charger. It wasn't a FaceTime call. It said RESTRICTED CALLER. You braced your hand on your nightstand in the dark, and when you answered, you knew immediately that it wasn't your husband on the other end of the call.
"Hello? I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw," came a male voice in response, and then he was asking you to confirm your personal information. 
"What happened?" you gasped once he established that you really were the one and only person on Bradley's contact list. "What happened to him?"
There was a soft hum from the man, and you wanted to jump through the phone and strangle him for his lack of response. Then, as you finally managed to turn on your lamp, he said, "It looks like his flight just took off out of Hong Kong."
"Flight?" you gasped. "He's in the air?"
"Yes. A commercial flight into San Diego. He should arrive Friday morning, and I can give you the details now so someone can arrange for a ride for him." 
You were baffled as to why Bradley didn't call you himself, but if he was on his way home, you didn't care. And you weren't going to arrange for a ride for him. You were going to pick him up yourself. When you grabbed a pen from your nightstand, the only paper you could find was the love note he left for you, so you started writing the flight number on your arm instead. Then you gasped and almost dropped the phone when you ended the call. There was the slightest chance he would be back in time!
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Bradley was exhausted. He knew he could sleep for two days, no problem. He would land in San Diego and hope you were there to get him, then he'd ask you if the baby was a boy or a girl, then he'd take you home and make love to you before falling the fuck asleep. He really wanted to start building the jungle gym playset, but that was just going to have to wait for another day.
It was Friday, or at least that's what he thought, and he wasn't sure how busy you had been at work, because he hadn't spoken to you in weeks. Maybe Bickel let you take the morning off. If Bradley didn't get to see you in baggage claim like he always had before, he was going to be so annoyed that he was delayed weeks longer than he should have been. This mission turned into a three part nightmare on the high seas, and all he wanted was his wife and his Nugget.
When his flight landed, he was up and out of his seat, ready to go. Of course he ended up lifting down carryon bags for a few older passengers and one woman who had two kids with her. Of course he knelt down to help someone find their reading glasses. But all he wanted was for this line of people to move it off the aircraft so he could get into the terminal and call you.
When you answered on the second ring, shouting his name into the phone, he couldn't help but smile. "I just landed, Sweetheart. Does that mean you're here to get me?"
"Yes! I'm in baggage claim! Hurry up!"
His whole body thrummed with need as he picked up his pace at the confirmation that you were here for him. "I'm coming as fast as I can," he promised, squeezing between two groups of people walking way too slowly. He wanted to know if you took the day off. There were a hundred questions circling his brain, but the first one that he needed an answer to was, "How's my Nugget?"
He could hear the smile in your voice as you said, "Your little Nugget is thriving, Roo. But get over here and see for yourself!"
"Baby Girl," he laughed, jogging a little faster. "I'm coming." 
"Hurry," you whined, and he needed to give you what you wanted. 
He bypassed the crowded escalator and took the stairs as quickly as he could, skidding around a corner as he turned toward baggage claim. "Almost there," he panted into the phone. And then he saw you and groaned, "Fuck," loud enough that a few people shot him nasty looks. "Holy shit, Sweetheart."
Bradley ended the call as you glanced around, and he stumbled when you finally spotted him. You were wearing a new dress. It was a pretty shade of green, and it was snug, hugging all of your curves. Hugging your bump. You had a bump. You looked so obviously pregnant to him, he was ready to crawl on his hands and knees and beg at your feet.... for what, he wasn't sure. But that's what his brain was barking at him to do right now.
"Roo!" you called out, prancing toward him in that tight dress and your boat shoes, and literally nothing felt better than being with you. As soon as you were in his arms, he was home. "Bradley," you moaned against his lips as his hands found your sides. You felt different in the best possible way. The swell of your belly wasn't huge yet, but it was definitely there. He could feel it. His growing baby.
God, you were kissing him just right, fingers threading through his hair as you rubbed yourself against him. "Jesus," he groaned into your mouth, but you kissed it away as he ran his hands along as much of your middle as he could reach. He couldn't help it; when you eventually broke the kiss to take a breath, he dropped to his knees in front of you.
Your fingers were still in his hair as you looked down at him in surprise. "Roo?"
He was kissing along that green fabric and rubbing his nose against that perfect, little bump. He knew you were twenty-two weeks along, and he knew what that meant. "Please, tell me," he rasped, stroking you gently with his thumb. "Please, Sweetheart. Is it a girl or a boy?"
Your softly parted lips and smile had all of his focus as he waited to hear you tell him what he'd been dying to know. "Oh," you whispered, pushing your fingers through his hair, leaving him in anticipation as your fingertips glided down his cheek. "I don't know yet."
"You don't?" he asked, brow creased in concern. But you just kept smiling as his heart pounded. "You don't know?"
"Nope," you replied easily. "My appointment is in an hour."
Bradley rocketed to his feet. "Are you serious?" he whispered, his voice a little harsh. "I didn't miss it?"
You kissed him softly as he collected you back in his arms. "You didn't miss it, Roo. I postponed it as long as I could. You're just in time."
"Hell yes!" he whooped, pumping one fist in the air as you giggled. "You waited for Daddy," he said, smiling down at your belly as he slowly walked you backwards. "That's my Nugget." You were looking up at him with trusting eyes as he pushed you back against a pillar next to the baggage carousel. "You said we have an hour?"
"Yes."
"Good," he murmured before his lips found yours, and his hands continued their excited exploration of your new curves. 
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Next up is the big reveal!!! I am so excited!!!! Get your final guesses in now! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who has been reading and interacting. Welcome to the new series!
PART 2
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mrschtappen · 2 months
Text
𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄
I : The Call of the Circuit -> II : Dreams Ignited (soon) -> III : Untitled (soon)
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Max Verstappen x Schumacher!reader
Synopsis: childhood friends Max Verstappen and you, the daughter of racing legend Michael Schumacher, evolve from best friends to fierce rivals to teammates. maybe then to lovers....?
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Monday, 10th December, 2018 Faenza, Italy
You sat alone at your new office, your eyes fixed on the glowing screen of your phone. The Twitter announcement you had posted earlier that day was still causing ripples across the internet, igniting a firestorm of reactions and responses from fans and followers around the world.
As you scrolled through the flood of comments, memes, and well-wishes flooding your feed, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. The overwhelming wave of support and excitement from your supporters served as a poignant reminder of the incredible journey that lay ahead.
You made sure you turned off the lights of your new office when you were about to go. Settling inside your Audi R8, the soft chime from your phone took your attention away from driving.
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As you read Max's message about bringing a Michael Schumacher merch from Germany, a wave of mixed emotions washed over you. The mention of your father's name, especially in connection with Germany, brought back vivid memories of the ski accident that had changed your lives forever in 2013.
your heart felt heavy, a subtle ache resurfacing as you recalled the challenging times that followed your father's accident. The uncertainty, the hope, and the unwavering support from loved ones, including Max, during those difficult years played like a reel in your mind.
Despite the pain and the bittersweet nostalgia, you weren't angry with Max for bringing up those memories. In fact, you felt a sense of gratitude for his thoughtfulness and the comfort of your shared history. Max had been a pillar of strength and understanding throughout your journey, and his genuine care and friendship meant more to you than any merchandise ever could.
Sitting alone in your car, you took a moment to let the emotions wash over you. You reflected on your journey and the pivotal decision to join Formula 1, a deep sense of determination and purpose filled your heart. Since you were three years old, the dream of racing in F1 had been a beacon of hope and ambition, driving you to push boundaries and defy expectations.
You knew that stepping onto the track wasn't just about fulfilling your childhood dreams; it was also a tribute to your father and the legacy he had built. The memories of watching Michael Schumacher's triumphant moments, especially his 6th championship title, had ignited a spark within you, fueling her passion and commitment to chase after her own aspirations.
Despite the challenges and the weight of the past, you felt a profound sense of gratitude and pride. You knew that your journey was a testament to your resilience, determination, and the unwavering support of those who believed in you, including Max.
Sunday, 12th October, 2003 Suzuka, Japan
As a three-year-old, you may not have comprehended the complexity of Formula One racing, the excitement buzzing in the air, the infectious energy of the crowd through the grandstands. The vibrant colors of the racing cars zooming past, the deafening roar of engines, and the flashes of cameras captured your attention, painting a kaleidoscope of sensory impressions.
Although your understanding was limited at such a tender age, the sight of Michael Schumacher, dressed in his iconic red racing suit, elicited a sense of pride and admiration within your young heart.
"That's my dad !" your little fingers pointed at the red car zooming the finish line, practically screaming at everyone as you started clapping then. 
The warmth of your mother's embrace welcomed you as you cheered together, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.
your eyes wide with wonder as you watched your father bask in the spotlight and as Michael Schumacher descended from the podium, triumphant and beaming with joy, his eyes sought out you, your mother and your older brother Mick in the crowd. With a tender smile, he reached out to scoop up his young daughter, lifting you into his arms and hoisting you high above the crowd.
the cameras flashed and the crowd erupted into applause, you enjoyed the attention, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to be held in the arms of your racing hero.
The image of your bond captured for all to see, you knew that this was a moment you would cherish forever—a moment when you felt truly seen and cherished by the man who meant the world to you. 
your dad, Michael Schumacher. 
Saturday, 27th November 2003. Gland, Switzerland
you stepped onto the karting track for the very first time, your heart pounding with excitement and nerves. The whole family was there along with your dad's friend's family, the Vertsappens. With your tiny hands gripping the steering wheel of your go-kart, you were confused on how the whole kart operates. 
"You've got this schatzi !" You heard your dad cheer for you from a distance, calling you a nickname that means sweetie in German. 
Frustrated, you spoke 
"How do I do this ?"
Max Verstappen, the seasoned six-year-old racer, flashed you a mischievous grin as he leaned over to offer his expertise.
"Watch and learn, little rookie. First, you gotta push down on the pedal like this..."
With a swift motion, Max demonstrated, his foot pressing down on the accelerator pedal with practiced ease. You watched intently, your eyes wide with fascination.
"Like this?"
you mimicked Max's actions, but your foot hesitated on the pedal, unsure of the right amount of pressure to apply.
Max chuckled, reaching over to gently guide your foot.
"Almost there, y/n ! You just need to press a little harder."
you nodded eagerly, determined to master the art of go-karting with Max's help.
"Got it! Thanks, Maxie !"
As you zip around the track, the conversation turned to your shared love for Formula One racing.
"Do you think we'll ever drive in Formula One, Max ?"
Max grinned, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
"Of course! And when we do, I'll be the world champion, then Mick and you will be my trusty sidekicks."
you rolled her eyes playfully, a giggle escaping your lips.
"Dream on, Max! I'll be the one leaving you in the dust!"
"Hey, you two ! How's it going ? " a familiar voice chimed in from behind you, causing both Max and you to turn around 
Max grinned, giving Mick a playful nod.
"We're having a blast ! little rookie here is a natural behind the wheel."
you blushed at the praise from Max 
"Thanks, Maxie ! And hey, Mick, I'm going to beat you someday !"
Mick laughed heartily, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Is that so ? Well, I look forward to the challenge ! Let's see who can get to formula one first" 
Your banter filled the air with laughter as the three of you raced around the track, your friendship growing stronger with each passing lap. And as you crossed the finish line second, just a few millisecond behind Max, a smile grew wide on your face.
"Looks like you've got a prodigy, are you sure this is her first time ? She's a natural" Max's dad said, a chuckle escaped from your dad
You crossed the finish line just 4 tenths of a second later than someone who was 3 years older than you. You can feel the pride surging even when you were just so little.
"wow you're fast" your older brother said, giving you a high five as you returned it enthusiastically with a tiny jump
"yeah, not so bad little rookie !" Max also gave you a high five
you smile with your tiny teeths showing, your dad embraced you, lifting you up in the air
"my daughter is a soon to be formula one racer, and the world shall know you as for you are, not the daughter of a six time world champion but y/n Schumacher."
you couldn't help but feel grateful for everyone's guidance and support, knowing that with them by your side, you knew you were able to achieve anything.
Thursday, 14 March 2019 Melbourne, Australia ROUND ONE
As you took your first steps out to greet the fans, a wave of exhilaration and gratitude washed over you. The energy from the crowd was palpable, a mix of excitement, anticipation, and overwhelming support. The sight of fans waving flags, holding up banners, and wearing team colors was a surreal and heartwarming experience for you.
Walking along the barricades, you were met with a sea of merchandise bearing your name and face, along with the iconic Michael Schumacher memorabilia that fans had brought along. The presence of the Michael Schumacher merchandise added an extra layer of emotion to the moment, reminding you of the legacy you were a part of and the immense responsibility that came with it.
As you greeted fans, signing autographs and posing for photos, several fans couldn't help but comment on the striking resemblance between you and your legendary father, Michael Schumacher. Their kind words and compliments about your beauty and resemblance to your father filled you with a sense of pride and humility.
Amidst the flurry of interactions, one fan caught your attention with a cheeky remark that left both of you laughing.
you backed away with laughter, cupping your mouth, looking at a marriage certificate by an older fanboy, a good looking one you couldn't lie.
"I'm 19 !" You exclaimed, a wide laugh still visible on your face
"Maybe in a few years !" You joked, before moving to another fan, signing her cap with the number 57 on it, a number you chose to drive for.
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It was media day today which means there's no driving and the press conference began with Lewis Hamilton from Mercedes, Sebastian Vettel of Ferrari, Daniel Ricciardo from Renault, Max Verstappen of Red Bull Racing and of course yourself, y/n Schumacher from Scuderia Toro Rosso.
"We’re gathered under very sad circumstances, following the news that Charlie Whiting, the FIA’s Director of Formula One died during the early hours of this morning. I’d like to start this press conference by asking each of the drivers present for their thoughts and memories of Charlie. Lewis, could we start with you, please?" Lewis spoke to the mic
"I’ve known Charlie since I started in 2007. I made some comments this morning on my Instagram. It may have not worked, as I think it’s down but obviously incredibly shocked this morning to hear the sad news and my thoughts and prayers are with him and his family. What he did for this sport, I mean, his commitment… he really was a pillar, as Toto said, such an iconic figure in the sporting world and he contributed so much for us, so may he rest in peace."
as the other drivers stated their comments regarding the passing of the late Charlie Whiting, it was your turn to answer
"How about y/n ? I believe this has come to a big shock as well as your father was also racing when he was the f1 racing director ?"
"yes, my father raced during Charlie's tenure as F1 Racing Director. I've met Charlie a few times and found him to be a wonderful person. His dedication to safety and fairness in Formula One was unmatched. Charlie's ability to connect with everyone in the paddock and his unwavering passion for the sport made him irreplaceable. My thoughts are with his family, friends, and the entire FIA community during this tough time. His legacy in Formula One will always be remembered"
as they continued tho the next question, you were shocked as to how bold and daring for this male interviewer to ask the whole lot of drivers with you
"Given the whispers around the paddock about nepotism getting y/n Schumacher this seat due to her father's legacy, and considering she is the sole female on the grid, do you drivers genuinely believe she is as competent as the other drivers, or do you acknowledge a potential gap in her skill?"
As the interviewer's words cut through the tension of the room, your face tightened, a blend of disbelief and frustration clouding your features. The weight of the question bore down on you, amplifying your discomfort and vulnerability in that moment.
You felt exposed, the spotlight glaringly bright, intensifying the scrutiny you felt as the only female driver on the grid.
Sensing your discomfort, a subtle shift occurred amongst the drivers on the panel. Eyes darted towards you, expressions reflecting concern and empathy.
Among them, Max Verstappen's gaze lingered a moment longer, his usually confident demeanor softened by genuine concern for his fellow driver.
The collective silence that followed the question seemed to stretch on, the atmosphere thick with tension. But within you, a resilient fire ignited. Drawing strength from the supportive glances of your peers and your own unwavering determination, you steadied yourself. You would not let this moment define you or shake your belief in your own capabilities.
"could we start with you again Lewis ?"
Lewis's expression tightened, clearly upset by the nature of the question.
"Honestly, I find it disappointing that in this day and age, we're still having these discussions. Women have proven time and time again that they can compete at the highest levels of motorsport. I've been a staunch supporter of women in racing, and I've seen firsthand the talent and determination they bring to the track."
"Look, in Formula 1, everyone's path to the grid is different. Yes, some of us come from racing families or have certain connections, but ultimately, talent and hard work are what count. I've faced skepticism throughout my career for various reasons, and I've always chosen to let my performance on the track speak for itself. As for y/n, she's shown promise and skill in her journey to F1. The sport is better when we have diverse talents, and I believe she deserves her place here"
"Thank you for the answer, could we move on to Vettel next ?"
Vettel's brows furrowed, eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and growing indignation. "It's disappointing, really, to hear these questions. Every driver on this grid has earned their seat through dedication, hard work, and skill. Formula 1 is a tough environment, and to suggest that anyone is here purely because of their name or gender undermines the effort we all put in. I've met y/n and seen her commitment firsthand. She belongs here as much as anyone else."
Then they moved on to Danny. His jovial demeanor momentarily shifted as he heard the interviewer's pointed question directed at you. Being someone who often exudes positivity and fairness, Daniel values meritocracy and respects the grind every driver goes through to reach Formula 1. Hearing a fellow driver being questioned on the basis of nepotism and gender struck a chord with him.
"Ah, the old nepotism and gender card. It's not a new question in F1, but it's one that misses the mark. Sure, having a famous last name might open some doors initially, but it won't keep them open if you can't deliver on track. As for being the only female driver, I think it's about time we focus on skills and capabilities rather than gender. I've had the chance to get to know y/n, and she's got talent. End of story."
Then they moved on to Max, who is known for his fierce competitiveness and straightforwardness. It was clear that he was infuriated by the audacious implication and the discomfort it caused you.
Seeing you visibly uncomfortable only intensified Max's emotions. He felt a surge of protective anger, recognizing the unfair scrutiny and challenges you faced as the only female driver on the grid. In that moment, the friendship among drivers was evident, as Max's concern for your well-being was palpable.
His eyes flashed with fury as he seized the opportunity to address the interviewer's audacious question. His voice dripped with venom as he unleashed his pent-up frustration.
"Firstly, the audacity to question anyone's place on this grid based on gender or family name is just absolute garbage. She's earned her spot on this grid through sheer talent and hard work, just like the rest of us. Anyone who suggests otherwise is either blind or just plain ignorant."
His words were sharp and cutting, each syllable laced with disdain for the backward mindset behind the question. Max's aggression was palpable as he continued to tear down the baseless accusations.
"In case you missed it, Formula 1 is about racing, talent, dedication, and hard work, not gender or who your parents are. It's disappointing to still be facing these backward stereotypes in this day and age. We should be focusing on racing and the incredible talent we have on this grid, not trying to create controversy where there isn't any . For the record, I've raced alongside her, and I've known her my entire life. Y/n is an extraordinary racer through and through, and she's proven herself time and time again."
He paused, taking a breath to temper his rising emotions before continuing,
"So, how about we focus on the actual sport instead of dredging up this garbage ?"
Max's aggressive defence reverberated through the room, leaving no doubt as to where he stood on the matter and silencing any further attempts to undermine your place in the sport.
As you listened to Max's vehement defense, a mixture of emotions washed over you. Initially, there was a sense of relief and gratitude. Max's and the other drivers' unwavering support and fierce defence of you felt like a shield against the unfair scrutiny you had faced. It was reassuring to know that your fellow drivers stood your her and were willing to call out the injustice.
Your eyes briefly met Max's intense gaze, conveying a silent thank you and mutual understanding of the gravity of the situation.
Then it was finally your turn to answer
With a poised demeanor, you addressed the room, your voice steady and confident.
"I'd like to extend my sincere appreciation to my fellow drivers for their support. It speaks volumes about the fellowship and respect we share as competitors."
Pausing momentarily, you continued with a touch of irony,
"Regarding the questions raised about nepotism and being the only female on the grid, I was under the impression that Formula 1 valued skill, determination, and performance above all else. My presence here is a testament to my commitment, capability, and qualities I believe are fundamental to every driver on this grid."
Maintaining your composure, you added, "While these questions may have been posed, my focus remains unwaveringly on racing. I am here to compete, to challenge, and to succeed, just like every other driver. I look forward to letting my performance on the track speak for itself. Besides, I don't see 19 men ahead of me, I see 19 challenges to be conquered."
With this response, you gracefully but firmly addressed the issue, highlighting your professionalism and determination to rise above the noise and excel in your chosen profession.
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cillianhead · 8 months
Note
Your Thomas Shelby's younger inexperienced wife and you are both experimenting in the bedroom and he lets you choke him 🥵
Oh absolutely...!
God I can't wait to write this. Thank you for your request! I hope you like it :-)
Show Me How Much You Need Me || Thomas Shelby x Reader
Part One!
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected P in V, choking, light spanking i guess??, face slapping, age gap, degrading language, swearing / vulgar language, kinda mild breeding kink, daddy kink, squirting, mild overstimulation sort of, oral sex (f receiving), arranged marriage, very very very very vague implications of dubcon sort of but like not really but just be warned! adult content. (sorry if I missed any warnings)
18+ Minors DNI
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To your parents, being unmarried at the age of twenty was absolutely unacceptable. So on your birthday, they had men lining up around the block, both old and young alike, hoping to be your husband. Now there were some good candidates, not that you had a choice in who you were going to marry. Your parents were control freaks, deciding they were going to decide for you. But as soon as Thomas Shelby walked into the room, cigarette hanging loosely out of his lips, a trail of smoke following him and a huge wad of cash in hand and then tossing it down in front of my parents, acting like he owned the place... You knew no one else stood a chance.
Now you'd been married for a month, Tommy was an insatiable man. He got what he wanted when he wanted. You remember the look in his eyes on your wedding night when you told him you were a virgin, he nearly came in his trousers at the thought of your tight pussy. You've had sex pretty much twice a day or more ever since, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Tommy showed you how to fuck, how to suck his cock, showed you how to please a man. Of course, the only man you would ever be allowed to please would be Tommy himself. You were hesitant to marry him, you were also slightly afraid of him but as you got to know each other, got to spend more time together as husband and wife, you appreciated his company, and you could even see yourself beginning to love him. But lately the sex between you had started to die down, Tommy being busy dealing with the peaky blinders and all their drama, you'd only have sex every other day or so. Which for you guys, wasn't a lot. But you knew he was tired, it wasn't cause he wasn't attracted to you anymore.
It was pouring rain outside as you both quietly sat in bed, Tommy read his novel quietly, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose while you brushed through your hair, topless and only in some thin white panties for him. There was a visible wet patch from your arousal, you were always wet when you were near Tommy, he just had that affect over you. He thought it was cute how easily excitable you are. You were incredibly needy, now that you'd had a taste of what it was like to have sex, you were constantly asking for it, constantly trying to get his attention. Poor little inexperienced thing you were.
"Tommy," You whined, placing your hairbrush on the bedside table and then leaning over, pressing your face into his neck. "Pay attention to me..."
Tommy let out an amused huff, turning another page of his book, not bothering to even spare one glance at you. "What do y'need, love?" He asked gruffly, reaching his spare arm and wrapping it around you, pulling you into him. He knew exactly what you needed, he just wanted to hear you say it. The way you got embarrassed and shy was incredibly sexy to him.
"Need you..." You whispered, placing kisses along the column of his throat.
"Gotta be more specific than that," He closed his book, finally setting it aside along with his glasses. "What do you need from me?"
"I need... you..." You were flustered, burying your face in his bare chest but he grabbed you by the nape of the neck like you were a kitten and pulled your head up, forcing you to look at him. "I need you to fuck me... Tommy..."
"Is that so?" He chuckled, running a thumb over your bottom lip which you innocently popped into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit. You weren't doing intentionally to turn him on, you just liked the way it felt to suck on something, especially if that something was Tommy's thumb. But the sight was suggestive, Tommy wished it was his cock in your mouth instead. "Fuckin' hell, alright, sit in me lap, I'll give you what ye need."
You continued sucking on his thumb, keeping eye contact with him as he pulled down his sleep shorts and pulled down your underwear. "Go on then, take what ya came here for." Tommy pulled his wet thumb away, shoving it between your folds and rubbing your clit, making you weak in the knees. He had so much power over you. So you grabbed onto his shoulders before holding the head of his dick before lining up with the leaky tip and sinking down on him. You watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as you squeezed around him. "Easy, girl." He warned, his cock twitching inside you, he could cum from just how tight you were. God he fucking loved that his cock was the only one you'd ever taken, loved the way you stretched around him.
"Fuck... so deep..." You sat on him for just a moment, adjusting to the feeling. Even though you'd taken him plenty of times, your cunt just hadn't gotten use to the sheer size and girth of him. It made you feel like you were being torn open in the most beautiful way possible. "T-Tommy..."
"Ride me, slut, go on... show me how much you need me." He slapped your ass harshly before grabbing a handful of it and encouraging your hips to start grinding against him. "Such a pretty girl."
You moved your hips back and forth, a bit shy at first as you did so but as more and more pleasure began to build in your stomach, your dignity went out the window as you began desperately bouncing on his cock. Tommy had never seen you so hungry for it before, he just leaned back against the bed, his hands gripping your waist as you took what you wanted.
Your tits bounced right in front of his face and Tommy thought to himself this was the greatest view in the world. His pretty little wife fucking herself and her perfect tits moving in sync with her movements. He let out gravelly groans as you sunk back down on him, sweaty, you froze for a moment to catch your breath. This was still all so new to you, still such an innocent little thing. You still need Tommy's help to get off sometimes, not quite strong enough yet to ride him all on your own.
"Tommy..." You whispered with a small whine. "Need your help..." Your flushed cheeks and blown out pupils were a sign of how lost in the moment you were. He just smiled as he pushed you down onto your back and threw your legs over his shoulders. His cock pressing even deeper into your pussy, somehow. You could feel him in your stomach.
"This what you want, little girl?" He hummed as he started to fuck in and out of you, impaling you on his dick. "Want me to fuck you like the slut you are?"
You moaned, nodding dumbly as your mind went blank. "Yes! Tommy! Fuck me!" You were incredibly loud and you were lucky no one else was in the house because otherwise they'd hear how loud you were being, when usually you were quite reserved around other people. "Pl-Please put a baby in me Tommy... let me make you a daddy..."
"Fuck..." Tommy could cum at your words, "Yeah?" He panted continuing to piston in and out of you, one of his hands grabbed roughly at your tits, playing with your hard nipple. "Gonna breed you like the bitch that you are." You moaned at his words, arching your back further into him as he gave you another harsh spank to your asscheeks.
"Tommy... gonna cum... please... don't stop!" You sounded like a pornstar, Tommy leaned down and kissed you.
"My pretty little wife," His voice was vibrating through you, the gravel of it making you even wetter. The sound of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping little cunt echoed throughout the room as he leaned down even further and connected his lips to yours once again. He felt your fingers curl around his neck, both hands wrapped around his throat, Tommy was never one to get flustered but the idea of you choking him made his hips stutter as you squeezed around him a bit. "Fuck..." He moaned lowly as you held onto his neck. You looked so sweet in that moment. "Such a stupid little girl, when you're full of cock, don't even know what ye doin, eh?" He fucked into you more, feeling you squeeze around him. Your hands held onto his throat as if you were holding him on a leash.
You were a writhing mess, shaking underneath him, only choking him further. You looked at how pretty he looked with your hands wrapped around his throat and how flushed his face was, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his hips bruised your pelvis. "Daddy...!" You moaned out, experimentally, waiting to see his reaction. You had always fantasized about calling him it but you were always too nervous to do so. But right now you were drunk on the pleasure, too fucked out to care.
"Fuck... say that again... gonna fuckin' fill you up, love." Tommy was just as desperate as you now, chasing his own high as you started to convulse around him, your orgasm unraveling, he lightly slapped you across the face, hard enough to break you out of your daze but not enough to actually do any damage. "Fuckin' do what I say!" You clenched tighter around him, cumming even harder at the sound of him yelling at you. Him being angry at you shouldn't be so hot but it was.
"Sorry... s-sorry... daddy!" You sobbed out as you gushed around his cock that began leaking cum. "Please... cum in me, please daddy..."
"That's right, baby..." He was rutting into you now, hips moving into you hard yet slow. "I'm yer daddy." He let out a deep mewl as he came inside you, making you moan even louder, your voice hoarse and your throat sore as you let go of his throat, collapsing your arms back. Tommy fucked his cum deep into you despite the sensitivity of his cock. Slowly pulling out of you, he pushed your legs against your chest to look down at the slick between your legs. A little bit of cum dripped out of your stretched out hole, earning you two fingers pushing it back into you, you just whimpered, a bit overstimulated.
"Think I gotta get a taste of your pussy now, love," He hummed getting down on his tummy, face aligned perfectly as he moved his fingers in a 'come hither' movement. You gasped, he was hitting your g-spot each time.
"Fuck, tommy!"
"Eh, that's not me name right now." He looked at you warningly before unhinging his jaw and attaching his hot mouth to your sensitive clit again.
"Oh daddy! 'S too much, too much... please..." You couldn't tell if you wanted him to stop or to keep going, it was all too much for your brain to comprehend. You were seeing hot flashes of white, your body going completely limp as another orgasm washed over you, rendering you helpless to the pleasure that was consuming you from the inside out. "D-Daddy..." You dumbly moaned.
"Tastes so fuckin good, keep cummin' on my face." His nose brushed your clit as he licked up your juices and you came again and again and again. Extremely overstimulated. "Just gimme one more, baby then I'll leave you alone." You were unresponsive, nodding your head weakly, wanting to be good for him. "Such a good girl for daddy, aren't ya?" He made out with your gushing sex, adding a third finger.
And suddenly you felt it burst out of you, drenching his hair, face, and the sheets underneath you. Squirting all over his face and just as you thought it was over, it just kept on coming. Your mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure, he drank it all up, continuing to slurp at your pussy until it finally ended. He pulled away, leaning back on his ankles, Tommy had a very pleased look on his face, your squirt dripping down his chin and his chest sticky with your cum and the sheets soaking wet. "That was the best bloody thing to ever happen to me." He huffed, licking his wet fingers. You laid there, tears streaming down your face and twitching gently, still coming down. He laid down beside you. "You did so good f'me, so good, you're alright, I'm here."
He held you as you continued to shake, waiting for you to calm down a bit. "I've never done that before..." You whimpered, pussy throbbing, full of cum, and sopping wet.
He gave you a loud genuine laugh, still sticky with your juices as he kissed you. "I'm gonna make you squirt over and over and over again every time we fuck now, just so you know."
You giggled at his words, he was gonna be the death of you.
-
I know there wasn't a whole lot of 'experimenting' or choking so i'm sorry! But I hope you enjoyed anyway!!
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jeysbvck · 2 months
Text
even if it's a false god (we'd still worship this love)
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a/n; ive been working on this for over a year, & after four rewrites, its finally here! thank you to @pedroassmanpascal for your help when i was conceiving this & working on it last year! this is my first time working in this genre, & it hasn't been beta read all the way thru, so please let me know what you think!
warnings; pov change, a butt load of angst, age gap (reader is in her thirties), violence, death/murder, near death experience, voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, male!recieving, female!recieving, penetrative sex (if ive missed any feel free to let me know!!)
taglist; @likedovesinthewnd @harmshake @nightmare-viper
word count; 7.3k
summary; Joel's been pretending you don't exist for weeks now, and you have no idea why. But when you get caught up in a life or death situation, confessions are made, lines are crossed, and your relationship is changed.
Every single part of Joel's body hurt, and he was exhausted. Joel was always exhausted, but this day had been particularly hard. Everything that he - and you had gone through had been for nothing. The supplies and weapons you had been looking for had been looted already. Only a few old, rusty tins of food covered in at least a years worth of dust had been left behind. Not to mention the constant hoards of infected you had to fight through. Now, it was a fight to get back to the QZ to make another plan that could end the exact same way. Yeah, he'd had plenty of bad days, but this one would sting for a while. The hope that had been reignited had gone out again. Now he was just tired.
No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't sleep. He was just lying on the hard floor -the fabric floor of the tent and his blanket doing nothing to help with the lumps under his back- with his eyes closed and ears alert. He knew how dangerous it could be, the horrors lurking in the woods, even when it was calm and quiet, and he hoped you had heeded his advice and were asleep with your gun.
But then he heard a whimper, and his eyes shot open as he stayed silent, his hand on his pistol. A barely heard whine, and he sighed with relief as he realised it was you. These past few weeks had been taxing - although the past twenty years hadn't exactly been a cake walk - and it dawned on him that you were probably crying. Joel had been so drained and tired during dinner that he selfishly hadn't noticed you were unusually quiet. He also didn't think about it when you retired to bed early. Joel tried to ignore the sounds, but he couldn't, he was just picturing you curled up in your tent, crying yourself to sleep, and the guilt of not noticing anything was wrong was gnawing at him. He groaned and slipped out of his tent, making his way to yours while putting the gun in the back of his jeans.
He quietly navigated the campsite and stopped outside your tent, unsure how to proceed. Did he knock on the fabric door, or did he call out your name? He wasn't good at this stuff, and he hadn't been for a long time, but he also knew that you needed someone; or, more specifically, you needed a friend. You were just that kind of person, even if the world had forced you to pretend you weren't. For a few seconds, he couldn't hear anything, but just as he was about to give up, he heard another noise, but this one sounded more like a moan. Then another one, louder now, and there was no mistaking it that time. Joel's body stiffened, and he started to get hot as his cock twitched at the thought of you getting yourself off, mere feet away from him. He heard your sleeping bag rustle slightly, and he bolted back to his tent, breathing heavily as he zipped the tent door.
He stared up at the roof of the tent, trying - but ultimately failing - not to think about what he'd just almost interrupted. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he had to unbutton them just for some relief. He tried to divert his thoughts, to think about anything else, but his mind took some winding paths just to get him back to thinking of you. Joel groaned. He needed a release, and it had been a long time since he'd done, well, anything. It wasn't going to hurt anyone, and you were doing it just mere feet away from him, so what was stopping him? They were all flimsy arguments. He knew that, but it was the easiest solution to the problem at hand.
Joel slipped a hand into his boxers, his cold touch sending goosebumps down his spine, the sensation making him harder. He began to stroke himself, and when he closed his eyes, he could see you writhing around in your tent, your fingers deep inside yourself. He could hear you from your tent still, your quiet whimpering and moaning sounding out through the stillness of the forest, and Joel caught his own moan in his throat as his movements got quicker. He couldn't bring himself to care about the possible dangers lurking, the grip he had his cock on tightening slightly as pictures of you clouded him. He imagined you being in here with him, imagined that you were both watching each other. It didn't take long for Joel to make himself orgasm, and he cleaned himself up, hoping sleep came to him before the guilt did.
-
Joel spent the next few days convinced he was going crazy. Every time you looked at him, he was sure you could see the guilt he was struggling to hide, like his memories would be projected for you to see. Every time you said his name, he was waiting for you to tell him you knew what he'd done, that you'd seen him outside your tent, and heard him in his. He felt so dirty, creepy, ashamed, and at some point, he shut down completely. He knew you were confused, you weren't as good at hiding your emotions as you thought, and you were confused by what you could've possibly done to warrant the cold shoulder from Joel, who could barely look at you, and it made him feel worse. He just didn't know what else to do, so he went back to what he knew best.
After traipsing through the woods for what felt like forever, Joel just wanted to set up camp and get through the night. He was tired, sore, hungry, and needed a moment away from you, without your sad eyes staring at him, without your attempts to get him to open up. So when you announced that you'd had enough and insisting that you stop for the night, Joel didn't argue. While Joel set up the tents, you gathered some wood from the perimeter of the "campsite", and Joel took a moment to watch on fondly, smiling to himself at the smug look of accomplishment on your face, taking the "win" against Joel.
Dinner was silent that night, as the past few had been, and while Joel refused to look up from his food, you were refusing to take your eyes off Joel. Your gaze was burning a hole in his head. He felt scrutinised as he ate, and it took everything in him not to engage. He didn't know if you were trying to annoy him into talking to you or if you were lost in your own thoughts, but he didn't ask.
Once again, straight after dinner, you headed into your tent, sending a soft "goodnight" Joel's way. He looked up but not before the sound of the zip echoed out, and he sighed, rubbing his temples.
The fire had died long ago, but Joel still hadn't found the energy to crawl into his tent. He stared up at the starry night, and just as his mind started to wander into dangerous territory -somewhere he never went if he could help it- he heard the noise that had been playing on a loop in his head for the past two days. His cock stirred and he covered his face with his hands. Not again.
He knew he had to get back to his tent and fast, but he had to do it quietly. He began to slowly move the canisters and empty tins, careful not to make any noise. He didn't want you to think he was a pervert. Although that's exactly how he felt right about now. He was about to stand up when he heard a single word from your mouth that made him stop in his tracks.
Joel.
Fuck. Oh fuck. Did you know he was there? Did you hear him? Could you see his silhouette projected on your tent, like it was a cinema screen? He ran through a hundred excuses in his head as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw no signs that you'd heard him. He scoffed at himself and shook his head. He really was going crazy.
Mmm, Joel, don't stop!
He definitely wasn't going crazy, there was no mistaking it. Not only were you masturbating, mere feet from Joel, but you were moaning his name, and he had never been so hard in his life. He couldn't stop himself, and once again, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, and while you moaned and gasped from inside the tent, Joel pleasured himself.
His precum was seeping out and over his fingers, and he bit down harshly on his lip to stop his own sounds from escaping. His motion got quicker, matching the sweet sounds coming from your tent, and when you brought yourself to orgasm and Joel's name slipped from your lips, he came undone. He emptied himself onto the dirt, too entranced by your gasps to notice the streams spilling over his fists. He dropped his head against the log behind him and groaned.
"Shit."
-
It happened three more times, and Joel had never been more conflicted. He was constantly stressed and on edge; the guilt from what he was doing was eating away at him. He'd always been someone that could control himself - he had to be - but when it came to this, to you, it was like something triggered inside him. He'd known you for years and had never had these thoughts or these feelings. Then again, he'd never spent this much time with you, and he'd never heard his name fall from your lips like that.
Joel couldn't deny he thought you were beautiful, and that maybe it inflated his ego a little, that you were thinking about him while you fucked yourself with your fingers, or dreaming about him, but he was under no illusions that it meant anything. You didn't have feelings for him. He was just the only person you'd seen in weeks that wasn't trying to kill you, and feelings get warped. Especially with the way the world was now. Besides, he'd seen the guys that hung around you like moths drawn to a flame. They were much younger and fitter than Joel was. Yet, he found himself as one of those moths, and he couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to be caught in your flame.
Joel was no longer waiting to hear you to get himself off. His mind would conjure up images that made it so he couldn't help himself. Images of your mouth around his cock, your hair tangled in his fingers as he fucked your face. His head buried deep in between your legs as he ravished you, his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of ecstasy. Of his cock slamming into you, his fingernails leaving little indents in your ass as he gripped firmly. The fact that he would never get the real thing didn't bother him. He was content with his fantasies. But he still felt guilty, and the tension between you and Joel was getting worse.
But things were beginning to simmer inside Joel, and his secret masturbating habits were no longer the sole reason for his behaviour. Joel would look over at you, by the fire feading the book you'd memorised front to back, and he'd let himself imagine running his hands through your hair as you sat lazily against him. When he slept, his dreams were of a life he'd never thought he'd want - or have again, and you were always by his side. He'd dream of dancing with you in the living room, waking up beside you, the sunlight making you glow like an ethereal figure. He'd dream of being happy. He'd put it down to the ridiculous situation he found himself in and told himself that once you were both back in the QZ, things would go back to normal. You would go back to people your own age, and Joel would just be a memory of a small fantasy you had while on a difficult run.
But then, as if the universe was trying to intervere, everything changed. The abandoned building you'd been hiding out in turned out not to be not so abandoned, and the two of you had gotten yourselves into a sticky situation. Hunters had cornered you, and in all the chaos and commotion, the last man standing had grabbed you, now using you as a human shield with his arm almost choking you, a knife pressed just above your collarbone while Joel had his gun aimed right at him.
"I'll take yer girls head off!" The guy yelled. Joel could see you were terrified, and it took everything in him not to let his rage consume him. He knew that one wrong move could get you killed. He needed to be smart about this.
"Look, man, we don't have much, but you can take it all. Just let her go." Joel said, trying to keep his voice even. He was terrified that he wasn't going to be able to save you, and he couldn’t live with that. It wasn't just about someone else that he cared about dying or about him failing. You understood him, and somewhere along the way, you had unknowingly brought him out of the darkness. You were his beacon of light, and if he lost that, if he lost you, he wasn't sure he'd ever find his way out of the darkness again.
"Yeah? What if I want 'er?" The hunter sneered, caressing your cheek with his knife, pressing the tip into your skin ever so slightly.
"Not an option." Joel growled.
"Seems like it is to me. I could drag 'er outta here right now. There ain't nothing you could do about it."
-
You felt sick. You couldn't believe you'd let yourself be distracted by Joel being tackled to the ground, and now this disgusting pig had you in a fucking headlock. You'd seen Joel take down hunters and the infected, sometimes effortlessly, so why the hell did you freeze when Joel had been pinned to the floor momentarily? Your feelings for Joel were getting more and more confusing, and you didn't like it one bit, they were going to get you or Joel killed if you carried on like this. 
It's not like you wanted to be attracted to Joel, not when there wasn't a single thing you could do about it. Why would Joel ever go for you? He was twenty years your senior, old enough to be your father. There was just no chance in hell. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from fantasising about him. It wasn't hurting anyone, and it was keeping you somewhat sane, and he'd never know.
"You won't make it out of this room." You heard Joel say in his deep, gruff voice, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeezed shut when you felt the man breathing on your neck, the hot air making your stomach twist, bile rising up your throat as he inhaled your scent, his own vile one violating your senses. You clenched your fist and felt the cold blade of your dagger against your arm, the one you'd forgot you had up your sleeve, literally. How big of an idiot was this guy? How didn't he see you had a knife? As Joel and the hunter traded words, you quickly formulated a plan. If you could somehow manage to stab - or at least slash the guy - maybe he'd let go of you, and then Joel could get a shot in.
"Let go of me!" You shouted, struggling slightly, while slipping the knife further down your sleeve. It worked, and you smirked proudly. You raised your eyebrows at Joel before glancing down at your hand, subtly flashing the knife. You looked back at him, then darted your eyes to your captor. Joel took a second, and you knew he was weighing up his options before he nodded slightly. His eyes darted down to the guys leg, and you winked to let him know you understood the plan. The man still had a fucking knife to your throat, and you didn't want to give him any warnings or ideas.
"Don't worry." The hunter said, 'I'll look after 'er good."
Joel nodded to you, and you clenched the knife, stabbing right into the hunter's thigh. His yells of pain echoed around the room, and he released you from his grip, the knife in his hand clattering to the floor. You stumbled forward, kicking the weapon across the room, but you thankfully managed to stay on your feet. You grinned at Joel, feeling victorious, but it was a fleeting feeling.
"Fuckin' bitch!" The hunter shouted and you turned around, but not quick enough. The knife was sticking out of his thigh, but it didn't seem like he felt it, he was too overcome with rage, and the back of your head slammed against the wall as the hunter pinned you by the throat. You gasped for air, the guys hands squeezing the life out of you, spit flying as he screamed in your face.
"I'll fuckin' kill you, you goddamned bitch!"
You tried to pry the man's hands from around your neck, but it was no use. He was too strong, and your vision was fading rapidly. You were barely able to gasp Joel's name, and you were quickly losing consciousness. All you could do was stand there and let the darkness consume you as you thought about Joel. The way he'd try to hide his smile when you did something wrong, or when you said something silly. The way he laughed, how it was the rich sound you rarely got to hear. How he protected you, even though he clearly didn't want to be around you. How you were going to die, not knowing what you did to make him ignore you the past couple of weeks. Not knowing why he had this sudden disdain for you.
But then, the pressure around your neck suddenly disappeared, and you fell to the floor, gasping for air as you clutched your throat, your eyes wide and darting around wildly, searching for Joel.
He appeared on his knees in front of you and grabbed your face, his panicked, brown eyes staring deep down into your soul.. "Hey! Hey! Are you alright? Come on baby, just breathe for me."
His large hands were warm on your cheeks, the hunter's blood that stained them smearing across your skin as he caressed your cheek, but still, you leaned into his touch. He had never been this gentle before; in fact, he'd never really touched you unless being dragged by your wrist as you ran from infected counts. "I'm okay," you managed to say, and Joel sighed with relief.
"We need to move. Can you stand?" Joel asked, and you nodded, eyes closed as you took a few extra slow, deep breaths. "Okay. Take my hand."
You opened your eyes to Joel's outstretched hand and you took it, letting him haul you gently to your feet. He hooked his arm under yours to help you walk, and as you concentrated on walking with shaky legs, Joel guided you to the door. "Wait here." He said, disappearing out the front door to check for any danger.
As he did so, you turned to inspect the chaos you were leaving behind. Your stomach lurched as you saw the blood pooling around the dead man with a clean, almost surgical, maroon slice straight across his neck, and you wondered just how many times Joel had had to do it, to get such a clean cut. Your eyes snapped back to the door, where Joel was staring at you, his eyes wide and sad, like a puppy, before they hardened. "Let's go." Joel said. "We'll find a house to hide out in."
*
The universe had decided you could both use a break, and less than two hours after the attack, deep inside the seemingly never-ending woods, the two of you came across an unlocked cabin, the keys just sat on the side table. Joel put his finger up to his lips, and you nodded, following his lead as he crept through the front door. He pointed at you, then at the spot you were standing, and you nodded, doing as you were told while Joel checked it out. Neither of you wanted to take any more chances after today.
"Hey, you might wanna come check this out!" Joel's voice echoed through the cabin, and you closed the front door before heading towards the sound of his voice.
The cabin was rustic and run down, and looked to have been abandoned for a decade at least. It had been a hunter's cabin, judging by the animal heads mounted up on the walls, staring down at you with their black, beady eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere. The fireplace was brick, an axe resting against it with piles of wood stacked in front. You turned around and found Joel in the kitchen, staring down at the sink. As you got closer, you heard the familiar sound of a running tap, and you smiled. You'd take any kind of water right now, anything to get rid of this day.
But then you saw it, dancing through the air, rising from the tap. You were convinced you'd imagined it until you saw Joel's fingers rolling together under the water, a look of shock on his face.
"Is that what I think it is?" You asked as you got closer, and Joel nodded. You gingerly held your fingers out, anticipating cold water, not wanting to get your hopes up. But when your fingers hit the warm water, you let out a bewildered laugh, cupping both hands under the water, letting it spill over as it slowly but surely got hotter. "I can't believe it!"
"Yeah, well, we deserved a win eventually." Joel replied. You made eye contact, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards slightly, his eyes darting down to your neck before he took a sharp breath and turned away. "You should go have a shower."
"What about you?" You asked, and he sighed.
"Just go. I'll wash up here."
-
After stripping off your clothes, you looked at your reflection. Only then did you notice the bruising around your neck, and the blood smeared across your cheeks. You could still feel the way the hunter's hands squeezed so tight that you could feel the life draining from your body. You could still feel the panic and terror you felt and the relief when Joel forced the hunter to let go. The look in Joel's eyes when he held your face, the gentle touch as he caressed your cheeks and brushed your hair out of your face. You thought you'd made your peace with dying long ago, but that was until you almost met death, and it made you realise you didn't want to leave Joel. If Joel was in your life, maybe living was worth it.
You were so lost in thought, staring at your scarred body in the mirror, you didn't hear Joel knock on the door. It was only when the door burst open with Joel shouting your name that you turned around, surprised.
Joel kept his eyes on yours, refusing to let himself cave and look down; although it's all he wanted to do. You knew you should grab the towel, or the shower curtain, anything to cover yourself, but you were frozen, like Joel's gaze was keeping you locked on the spot.
Joel cleared his throat and shoved a bundle of clothes into your arms. “Sorry, I-uh, I thought maybe you were- it doesn't matter. I found those, thought you'd want some clean clothes.”
He left, slamming the door behind him, and you exhaled. You ignored the thoughts creeping in and the heat rising up your body and climbed into the bathtub under the running shower; watching the dirt and blood trickle off your body and down the plughole. Once the water ran clean, you stepped out, patting yourself down with the small towel. You then filled up the bathtub with hot water and then threw your underwear and clothes into it. It wouldn't fully clean them, but it'd be enough for now. You picked up the oversized flannel and pulled it over your shoulders, forgoing the jeans that were way too big for you, even with the help of a belt. You sighed and headed back out to Joel.
The fire was burning, the crackling wood echoing through the cabin. Joel was sitting at the wooden table in front of the window, sipping on a glass of wine. There were two plates of pasta on the table, a glass of wine next to one of them. You padded across the room and dropped into the seat opposite Joel, studying his face as he stared out the window. The sky was pink and orange as it set through the trees, the view almost as beautiful as the one sitting next to you; the light of the sunset cascading over Joel. He turned his head to you, and you glanced down at the food. Joel cleared his throat.
"I found some pasta and wine in the cupboards. It only went out of date a few weeks ago." He explained. "It should be okay for us to eat."
"I'm sure it's fine." You replied, "anything's better than beans again, right?" You leaned forward and took the glass of wine, taking a long sip, basking in the way it burned your throat slightly. It had been so long since you'd had even a sip of alcohol, you could swear your head was already fuzzy.
Like most dinners lately, this one was silent. But this was slightly different, considering you were probably the safest you'd been in a long time, and you were eating actual food off actual plates. If you and Joel were in a better place, it would be almost considered domestic. You might even consider staying here, leaving the QZ far behind. But you weren't, Joel could barely bring himself to talk to you — he couldn't even look at you. You really thought you were turning a corner with him until his behaviour changed one morning without warning.
"We should stay here for a couple of days, then head back to the QZ." Joel said. You sighed and finished your glass of wine, but it wasn't enough.
"Great." You replied, looking around for the bottle of wine. "Then you can go back to pretending I don't exist." You weren't sure where the outburst had come from, but you were pretty sure it had something to do with the alcohol running through your blood.
"Pretending you don't- what? I don't do that!" Joel insisted.
You scoffed. "Oh please, you're not as mysterious as you like to think." You said, although there was little truth to it. "You didn't even know my name in the QZ, yet we were around each other for months! I thought we were getting somewhere, but lately, you've been acting like we're strangers!" You told him.
"What?! Okay, maybe I was a little isolated in the QZ, but it's not like that now!" Joel replied, his fork clattering on the plate when it dropped from his hand. "All I do is worry about your survival!"
"Riiiiight, because you care so much." You said, rolling your eyes.
"It's my job to pro-"
"Your job?" You repeated, offended by his words, although you couldn't place why. "Well, allow me to relieve you of your duty." The chair screeched across the floor as you stood up and grabbed your unfinished plate and glass.
Joel inhaled through his nose and groaned. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."
"Well, I mean it. Leave. I didn't need a babysitter before, and I don't need one now!" You said loudly, heading to the kitchen for a reprieve.
Joel growled and slammed his palms on the table as he stood up, refusing your reprieve, following you to the kitchen. "I'm not leaving you to die out here. Which, you would've already if it wasn't for me. You've proven that multiple times!"
"Maybe," you replied, dropping the plate in the sink, staring at Joel, whose eyes darted away. "But I'd rather die alone than with someone who can't even stand to look at me!"
"I can't look at you because you drive me fucking crazy!" Joel exclaimed, his patience finally having worn thin. "Ever since I heard you moaning in that fucking-" He stopped, his eyes wide and on you as he realised what he said; watching his words dawn on you as your face cracked.
Nausea, or quite possibly embarrassment — rose from your stomach up through your oesophagus, and you drank from the glass of wine that was in front of you — which wasn't quite the best course of action as it didn't sit well on your spinning stomach. Joel had heard you masturbating. That's what he was saying, right? There wasn't anything else he could possibly be referencing. But why would it drive him crazy? Joel could be uptight sometimes, but it didn't seem to be in a "women shouldn't pleasure themselves" way.
You blinked a few times, and Joel's face came into focus. He had closed the gap between you both, now only a few feet away. He looked awkward as he shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.
"You heard me mast -" You stopped, unable to say the word out loud, and you sighed, feeling ridiculous. "You haven't been talking to me for weeks because you heard me -"
Something clicked in your head, like a light had just been switched on. You hadn't just gotten yourself off once. And at some point, you began to fantasise it was Joel's fingers, or mouth, even his cock instead of your own hand. You were aware a couple of times his name had slipped from your lips, and you'd clasped your hand around your mouth afterwards, praying he hadn't heard you.
It was beginning to seem very likely he had heard you, and something in you shifted from embarrassment to…something else, and you arched your eyebrow, finishing off the glass of wine for some extra courage.
"You heard me say your name.” You said, arching your eyebrow. Joel stared before he nodded slowly.
“I heard.” He confirmed, refusing to break eye contact. The air in the kitchen had shifted; it was thick with tension, and Joel wondered where this was going.
You hummed and tilted your head. “What did you do?” You asked, smirking when it was clear it caught Joel off guard.
"What?”
“What did you do, Joel?” You asked, leaning back against the counter. Joel's eyes darted to your bare legs before slowly dragging them up your body, stopping at the three open buttons that exposed your cleavage.
“I thought I heard you crying, so I came to check on you.” He explained. “When I got to your tent, I realised you weren't, and I went back to my tent.” His eyes darted to your face before he closed the gap between you until he was practically on top of you. “I tried to ignore you, but I couldn't help myself.” He lifted your chin with his index and middle fingers, so you were staring at him through your lashes. Your lips parted slightly as your chest rose and fell, your heart pounding against your rib cage. “I kept hearing your moans and thinking about you in that tent, and it got me so - I had to -”
His eyes were dark, full of lust, and you instinctively licked your lips slightly. "You- couldn't help yourself, huh?" You asked. Joel arched his eyebrow and tentatively reached his hand up to your cheek. He traced his finger over your cheek gently, and you closed your eyes as you inhaled. "Hearing you moan my name," He said, running a path down your jaw to your neck, "it sounded too good."
You reached up, closing the gap between your lips. Without hesitation, Joel reciprocated the kiss, his hand still around your neck as the other slipped around your hips, resting on the bottom of your back, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your crotch and you could feel it getting harder as the kiss deepened. You tugged his brown, leather jacket from his shoulders while Joel started an assault on your neck. If this lasted forever, it still wouldn't be long enough.
"Is this a good idea?" You asked through the gasps as he nipped and sucked at your neck.
"Mhmm, giving me some mixed signals here." he mumbled against your skin before pulling away, his mouth inches from yours. "I think it's a fucking great idea. Don't you?"
“I'm not sure.” You confessed. Joel cupped your cheek with his hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes soft, even if still full of lust. Was this a good idea? He'd spent weeks ignoring you, and it felt like Hell — but the way he kissed you, the way he touched you; it felt like Heaven.
"I don't care if it's a good idea or not." You replied, and Joel grinned.
"Good," he replied, "Because you have no idea how much I need you right now."
"Then show me." You said, and Joel growled before he pressed his lips against yours and instigated another passionate kiss, illicting a moan from you. He picked you up and dropped you onto the counter, spreading your legs so he could step in between them.
The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing together as both sets of hands roamed each other's bodies. Joel's hands cupped and massaged your breasts as yours unbuttoned his jeans, using your heels to push them down his legs. One hand trailed a path from your breast to your stomach, dancing around the place you needed him the most.
"No panties, huh?" He said into your mouth, his finger tracing a path up your slit so gently, it was like he was using a feather. "I never would've known you were such a slut." His finger grazed your clit, and he grinned as you bucked your hips.
"Maybe if you'd acknowledged my existence, you might have found out earlier." You replied, grabbing his bulge through the fabric and squeezed, tight. Joel gasped into your mouth as he thrusted into your hand, and it was your turn to smirk against his mouth. If he could tease you, you could do the same, you thought as you slipped your hand into his boxers, relishing the feeling of his cock in your grasp.
Joel growled, his hips bucking before he shoved two fingers inside you without warning. A yelp mixed with a moan slipped from your mouth as you threw your head back, and Joel groaned. He kept his pace up, pushing his fingers in and out of you, feeling your walls clench around them as he watched your face contort with pleasure, your moans echoing throughout the kitchen. Not even his fantasies could have prepared him for how incredible this felt. If using just his fingers made him — made you feel this good, he couldn't wait to use his cock.
But he would wait. For weeks, you had — albeit unknowingly, driven him to the brink of insanity. Clouded his mind so he couldn't focus on anything; which is why he didn't notice the threat today, which almost cost you your life. So now, he had to drive you insane in the only way he could.
He dropped to his knees and pulled you by your legs so you were hanging off the counter. He then hoisted your legs over his shoulders, and you watched Joel as he studied your cunt — the look in his eyes resembled one of a wild animal, one that was finally allowed out of its cage, to roam free as its right. Yet, he was biting his lip; almost like he was holding onto that last tiny bit of control he had left. But you wanted — no, you needed the wild animal, and so you tangled your fingers into his hair. He looked up at you, locking eyes as he let you guide his head to where you needed him to be.
Shivers ran down your spine as his beard tickled you as he dragged his tongue over the skin on the inside of your thighs. Once again, he touched every piece of you, but not where you needed.
“Joel,” you whined, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you bucked your hips, "Please." You begged.
“Oh baby, you're already so wet.” he tutted, his finger running through your folds and teasing your entrance before he lifted it to your mouth and pushed it between your lips. “Your pretty pussy is glistening for me.”
You tasted a hint of your juices as you wrapped your tongue around his finger, keeping your gaze on him as you did. He groaned, imagining how good your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. He pulled his finger out, and you gasped when he pushed it inside you. When he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and arched your back. “Oh shit, fuck, Joel.”
Every sense was heightened as Joel flattened his tongue and lapped at you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he swirled his tongue around your clit. You pushed yourself against him, practically hanging off the counter, making Joel grab your ass with both hands as he buried his face into you. With his beard grazing against you and his tongue pushing you further to release, your thighs gripped his head. Every single part of you was on fire as his assault on your cunt continued, and you could feel your orgasm brewing.
So could Joel, which was apparent as his pace got quicker, bringing in his fingers to help finish the job. With his thumb circling your clit and his tongue deep inside you, you reached your climax, Joel's name spilling from your mouth. As you threw your head back, grinding yourself against his face; you saw stars, all while Joel kept up the relenting pace.
He finally pulled away and stood up, grinning as he leaned towards you. His beard was glistening, and when he kissed you, you could taste yourself on him, mixing with the wine you had with dinner. Joel hooked his arms under your legs and scooped you off the counter; carrying you fireman style out the kitchen, through the sitting room and into the bedroom, where he dropped you on the bed. He crawled on top of you and dipped his head to kiss you. It was a soft, sweet kiss, one that you didn't want to end, so when it did, you whimpered, and Joel smiled softly.
“You still wanna do this?” He whispered. “We can stop if you want to.”
You leaned up on your elbows and gave him your answer with a kiss. He pressed his palm on your cheek and deepened the kiss, pushing you back down as he did. The two of you made out like two teenagers, and you could feel Joel's cock hardening against you. You slipped your hand in between your bodies and gripped his cock, rubbing the head against your entrance. Joel groaned, his head falling into your shoulder. He bit down as you pushed his cock inside yourself, your moans harmonising, the sensation almost too much.
Joel took over, grabbed your hands, and pinned them above your head. The animalistic look was in his eyes again, grunting with every thrust, his grip against your wrists tightening. You closed your eyes, and Joel growled.
“You thought about this while fucking yourself.” He said, his voice low. “Open your eyes and look at me while I fuck you.”
You opened your eyes and were met by Joel's big, brown ones that were now practically black. He fucked you harder, thrusting in and out as his thumb once again circled your clit. There was a ninety-eight percent chance that someone on the other side of the forest could hear everything, but at this moment neither of you cared. After weeks of awkwardness, of fantasising about each other while you touched yourselves, this felt right, like something had finally clicked into place — and you'd be damned if this was the first and only time it happened. Now you'd had a taste, you couldn't ever go back.
Joel picked up the pace, and you could once again feel your orgasm rising. You pulled Joel closer, your foreheads touching, your vision falling out of focus as you stared into Joel's eyes, but you refused to look away.
“Fuck, Joel, I'm so close” You whimpered, bucking your hips to meet his thrust, his cock hitting deeper each time you moved.
“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna -” Joel grunted, your synced thrusts getting faster. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moaned. “I'm gonna, shit -”
“Let go for me, Joel.” You whispered in his ear. “Come for me, and next time, I'll show you what I can do with my mouth.”
It only took a couple more thrusts before you and Joel finished together, and he slumped on top of you, breathing heavily. You lifted his head up, brushed his hair out his face, and smiled up at him, hearts practically in your eyes.
“So…” you said, and he reciprocated the smile. “Sooo…” He repeated.
“Are you going to be all weird with me again?” You teased, and Joel arched his eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his lips.
“I don't think so,” Joel replied, dipping his head for another kiss. “Especially if I want this to happen again.”
“Oh yeah? What makes you think we're doing this again?” You asked, and Joel grinned.
“Oh we're definitely doing that again.” Joel answered, and you giggled as he rolled off you and reached a blanket that was on a chair next to the bed. He flung it over the two of you before pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips against your temple. “I wanna know what you can do with that mouth.” He mumbled.
You giggled again, your heart fluttering as he linked his fingers around yours and kissed your knuckles. “Keep this up, and you'll find out.” You replied before a yawn slipped out.
“Alright you little tease, I think I can hold out until tomorrow.” Joel chuckled. “Right now, I think you need to sleep.”
You snuggled into Joel's chest, his fingers running through your hair. You never thought you'd be in this position, in bed with Joel Miller. You knew there was a lot more to talk about, but right now, you didn't care. You just focused on Joel's heartbeat under your head, on his fingers in your hair. Focused on how — even though there were still many dangers to staying in this cabin, it was still the safest you'd been in a long time.
The last thing you heard as you drifted into a peaceful sleep was a quiet confession from Joel; one you weren't sure you were actually meant to hear. “I'll always keep you safe. Even if it means giving my life.”
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xerotiny99 · 2 months
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Antiserum D // Loving Professor Jeong #1
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Antiserum D (Loving Professor Jeong series #1) Professor/College au.
Pairing: Jeong Yunho x (f) Reader [ft. Choi San & Song Mingi]
Warning: smut, prof!yunho, dom!yunho, sub!reader, student!reader, age gap, teasing and suggestive actions, size kink, big dick Yunho, dirty talk and pet names (master and pup), blowjob/throat fucking, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, edging, creampie and dacryphilia.
Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by the mentioned tags. Also note the age gap tag, here the reader is 21 and Yunho is 32, which makes it 11 years of gap.
Side Note: this series will contain 'hyung line' as the professors and the 'maknae line' as minor characters; except for Choi San and Song Mingi, these men are cheeky so look out for them. Again, as my other series, 'the reader' does have a name, i.e, Lee Sherri. Nicknames are bound to follow, so don't worry. I only write names in my oneshots because it's too annoying to write [y/n] everywhere and it ruins my flow of writing. Anyway, enjoy!
Gist: you had a rival in college, yes you did. It wasn't a student, rather the person you hold your grudges against is one of your professors. Now, you're in your senior year of bachelor's degree, running late for a morning class—knowing well he takes this class, what do you think the consequences would be?
Word Count: 12,164
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 'My dog died.'
No, you don't have a pet!
'My bus was late.'
You live on-campus.
'The coffee shop was crowded.'
You don't freaking have a cup in your hand!
'Umm, I overslept.'
Well, he doesn't need to know the truth. 
He really doesn't need to know the truth to why you were running late to his morning class. As time would have it, you did oversleep; lethargic from last night's meaningless meandering from bar to bar, in search of your sober soul, you surely had forgotten about your morning class the next day. Weekends are supposed to be lax and diverting. They're your only shot at having a good time with your friends. You weren't going to let your fear of being reprimanded by your 'favourite' professor stop you from having the fun you deserved. The weekdays were long, tedious and dull with all the lectures and practical sessions to attend.
You're sprinting up the stairs to get to your department; the science building is supposedly long and encompasses all other departments falling into it. Your department (zoology), moreover, your class was situated on the second level of the building. Meeting with the long hallway on your way, which apparently was the physics department, you turn a corner and are merged with another long hallway leading to yours. The grotesque stench of formaldehyde hits your nose the moment you walk past the junior laboratories of your department; that's where they were trying to preserve biological specimens, the 'tingle-your-spine' kind. There are lecture halls and laboratories on one side of the long hallway, while the other side was an open space with concrete railings and pillars; this space opened into the botanical garden the botany department had been tending to, so it housed large trees, a decent number of shrubs and flowering plants, including a variety of cactus and other succulents. 
Rushing in your steps, holding your tote bag close to you, your eyes scramble past the open space and the garden onto the walking street of your campus; it was borne with trees on both sides, and amidst the thicket of greenery you find the main building of psychology department. You almost heave out a laugh, reminiscing of the last night when your best friend (who studies psychology) was drunk out of his mind and had been making out with a lamppost. You pull yourself out of that daze, increasing the pace of your sprint to get to your laboratory.
First red flag of your day, the doors to your lab were open wide. Second, your supposedly 'favourite' professor was midway through an explanation about the experiment you were going to perform today. And third, you were technically thirty minutes late to the lab.
Quiet on your feet, you try to sneak inside; the structure of your lab was a little different, with sitting desks on one side of it, and workbenches on the other. In retrospect, this was your senior year's class where apparent lectures took place, and the workbenches were designated for less involved experiments. At the very front of your class/lab is a podium, a chalky black board, and a desk for professor. You glance at the front after realising all students had occupied the workbenches, you catch up on the glimpse of Professor Jeong carrying on with his explanation till his eyes meet yours.
"Miss Lee," he grumbles, amidst his explanation, "sneaking in—" mumbling he checks the time on his wristwatch, the sleeve of his coat riding up, "—a total of thirty minutes late. You better have a good reason."
He folds his arms over his chest, and stares down at you. While you halt midstep into the class, standing straighter you clear your throat and feel your mind stutter looking at him. Why did he have to dress so provocatively? And the outfit in concern was his beige coat and matching pants, a white long sleeved turtleneck underneath; you didn't quite like how your heart was palpitating watching him, keenly grazing your thirst-filled eyes across his face, noticing the shine on his black rimmed glasses and the plumpness of his pink lips.
"Miss Lee?" he repeats, only to get you squeaking, "yes, professor—uh yeah, I was late because my alarm did not go off in the morning..."
He hums in contemplation, eyes narrowing on you before he sighs and shakes his head, "occupy one of the workbenches and do not touch anything before I tell you to."
You nod, pressing your lips tighter to prevent any sound from escaping your throat; you were certainly anxious and embarrassed to be late, but more precisely you were humiliated in front of your class for coming up with such a lame excuse. Sighing, you stuff your tote bag in your locker at the back. You quickly slip on a lab coat over your outfit, bubbling with disappointment as it was hiding your nubile outfit. Knowing you were running late, you still made extreme efforts to dress yourself up—the reason was quite overt, because you wanted to dress up for yourself—you wore a white blouse under a pastel blue sweater vest and paired it with grey skirt which rode up till your mid-thighs. The lacy thigh-high socks were just an added accessory to make yourself seem cute considering you also had a blue ribbon in your hair, holding it in a high ponytail.
The only workbench unoccupied is the one situated at the very end and far from either the professor's desk at the back near the lockers and the podium from where Professor Jeong was reading every movement of yours. When you get to your designated place, you glance at the workstation to take note of the apparatus, before glancing next to you, finding the most obnoxious person you could. Choi San, Choi freaking San was offering you a guileful smile, one whose intentions did not appear to be right, or even ethical.
Bastard.
"So, Miss Lee is late because she couldn't hear her alarm go off? Pathetic," he rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, his own lab coat creasing by the elbows with his plaid shirt peeking from beneath. "I don't believe you—oh well, but I wonder what your favourite professor would think about you when he knows you were getting pissed drunk last night with your friends."
You weigh his words in your mind for a second before furling back a reply. "Aww, Sannie. If you're so desperate to get in my inner circle, just say so. I didn't know you would be so jealous of us..."
San's smile turns into a curve of amusement, "jealous of you? Me? Jealous?" he scoffs, "darling, you're dreaming. If I wanted to be in your inner circle, I would've just slept my way through it."
"Really now?" you retort, smiling softly, "slept with whom?"
"An easy prey to seduce would be you—" he clicks his tongue, "—if you can be so impressed by that..." he nods his head toward Professor Jeong, "...then I believe you'd be swept off your feet if I genuinely try to."
"You put yourself on such a high pedestal, Sannie," you muse, shaking your head lightly, "do you really think my standards are set so low to be dazzled by you?" 
"Oh, only time would tell, Miss Lee," he rolls his eyes, keeping his sly smile on. "Maybe, you would get infatuated with me or give into your temptations."
"Ahh, such a dedicated wishful thinker you are," you snide, heaving a low chuckle, "the only thing I'm tempted to do is throw a chair in your fucking face—"
"Miss Lee!" you flinch in your skin, body spasming to the deep and coarse voice of the professor. Hesitant in yourself, you peek up to face him, finding him glaring at you without a twitch on his face. "You certainly are not going to pay attention to my class, then why waste my time? You're free to leave. I don't hold my students captive; the ones passionate about learning find a way to attend my class in any way they could."
Your cheeks heat up, turning a shade of faint cherry red; embarrassment licks your spine and head lowers itself, you won't forget this moment ever. San is busy staring at you, feeling a little guilty but of course he won't let you know that. Shortly after, you glance back at the professor, noticing him staring at you with his lips in a scowl and his eyes piercing through you. That alone, that look alone was enough for you to quiver in your shoes; his persona had always been the intimidating kind, the kind who is self-possessed and doesn't really bother himself with the rest of the world.
Professor Jeong wasn't fazed by anything, not even by the number of female students crushing on him in your department, rather in your class alone. He didn't acknowledge their stupefyingly sexual or overly sensual approaches, turned them down if he thought they were invading his privacy. You took that as a challenge; maybe, maybe not. Your rivalry with him wasn't because he was unapproachable or a forbidden fruit to taste, it was because he always found a way to rattle your senses and make you the fool.
You remember it as clear as a day, at the beginning of your senior year, the very first semester—attending his class on genetics, you were simply taken off by him and his way of speaking. His personality was homely, strict where it should be, however. Amidst his lecture, he caught you talking and joking around with your bench-mate and questioned you about the topic he was teaching.
"If you can yap useless things, then why don't you enlighten me with the working of gel electrophoresis, hmmm...?"
It stung. But not more than him adding, "I'm even surprised you could answer. Maybe you should focus yourself more on your academics than other things."
Other things? You realised he was making comments on your appearance, the way you were dressed, the way you had streaks of gold stitched in your hair, the way you always had playful make up on—he judged you based on that, and thus the profound feud between him and you began. After that, you would intentionally skip his classes and not make an effort to attend them; even the practical sessions, except for the mandatory ones where you would bite your tongue and listen to him demeaning your entire existence for not setting the microscope right.
"Alright, now that I'm done explaining the principle and bits of the procedure, you may follow the same with your partners; if you're muddled with any concern then heed my name." He announces out loud, stepping down from the podium.
You raise your head, further listening to his footsteps dither across the floor to the back of where another table had been put up for teachers' comfort. Though, that's what you thought. The mellow sound of his boots takes an unassuming turn to your row of workbenches, taking you off guard. You're trying to find the meaning behind his detour. Also, you had been oblivious from the start that this practical is supposed to be performed in pairs. And you had no one. Because you were late. Even the slow-witted and stolid transfer student, Reagan Keith had a partner; and her partner was San himself, something you definitely did not see coming.
"Miss Lee," Professor Jeong clears his throat, standing next to you, "I suppose you do not have a partner because of your tardiness, and I happened to pair all my students prior to you, which leaves me no choice but to perform this particular experiment with you. So now, take a brief look at the blackboard and what I've etched on it, try to understand it. Once done, we can surely proceed."
You nod, contemplating, biting your cheek, unable to comprehend the proximity between you two. The dense musk of his scent is wafting all your senses—the redolent scent of vanilla and cinnamon is a deadly concoction to drive you wild. His warmth is superficial, yet the kind which melts your mind with stupefying possibilities, just how he could be—you need to keep your thoughts clean and chaste. Still, you suppress your mind to a corner and peek at the blackboard, studying his neat hand etched on it. The title gave you the rough idea of what you're supposed to do. 
'Determination of blood groups.'
Ahh, the title itself foretells the coming inevitable mishap is going to involve blood and blood lancets; you aren't so fond of the needles—no, it wasn't a phobia, you weren't fond of pricking yourself with the help of those lancets. The blue rounded capsules which compassed a sterile needle underneath was beyond torturous to you.
You heave out a deep breath, understanding the further procedure he had inscribed on the blackboard. Familiar with few terms, such as the usage of antiserums, and principle behind the entire procedure, you were relieved. Way more than relieved to know this wasn't something out of your expertise. The nurturing thought of you actually explaining it to him however was too heavy to bear. You clear your throat, fumbling in your words as you dart your eyes anywhere else but at him.
"Yes, Miss Lee, are you done gandering at the procedure?" he gawks, bewildered as if and continues, "now, please enlighten me with the steps so as to we can proceed with the experiment."
"We—we are determining the blood—blood groups," you stutter, not knowing where that came from, you turn your attention onto him, stifling a gasp upon noticing him leaning close to you.
"Go on, Miss Lee," he prompts you with a soft nudge of his head. "I'm sure having to palaver about for the entire day, you could at least narrate the steps to me. All I need is your guidance."
He's playing you again.
"Alright, I will—" your breath hitches in your throat—you witness him effortlessly shrug his coat off, revealing nothing of his skin but the long-sleeved turtleneck he wore under.
"Hmhm, yes...?" he instigates, putting his coat off to a side while he rolls the sleeves of shirt over till his elbows. "What's the first step?"
"Sterilisation." you mutter under your breath.
"Sterilisation of what, Miss Lee?" he teases, keeping a straight; his pushes his glasses further up his nose, which had apparently slipped off a bit.
"Sterilisation of the subject area."
"Okay, tell me which area is most suitable for this test?"
You nod, swallowing thickly as your eyes never leave his. "The tip of the middle finger."
You weren't going to waver, not even when his soft brown eyes were speaking the unbearable at the moment; how can he do that? How can he momentarily torment you with a sly curve of his lips or by the detrimental facade of his eyes?
"And why is that?"
"Tendon sheath—uh, the middle finger has tendon sheath which only limits it to the fingers; as for the thumb and pinky finger, the sheath extends a little further to radial bursae and ulnar bursae—so in case any infection occurs it'll be restricted to the middle finger unlike the thumb or pinky which can lead to the heart." You try your best to explain, forgetting how to breathe in the process.
"You know your stuff," he murmurs, his voice low and cold, "do you see any sterilisation pads on your table?"
Looking around your desk, almost immediately, your eyes lurk on a beaker full of 70% ethanol and cotton swabs. You bring the beaker close to you and reach out for the forceps placed next to it; extending the beaker toward to him, you clear your throat, hoping he'd get on the cue.
"Miss Lee, I'd very much appreciate if you were to perform all the steps involving this practical."
"Right—okay, so..."
You drag your words into a whisper, holding the palm of his hand in yours, while other picks out a cotton swab with the forceps. The piece of cotton rolls to and fro on his skin, rubbing gently. Hearing him wince at the cooling sensation of ethanol against his skin, you stifle a chuckle and let out a sigh; once you were done with sterilising, you reach out for the blood lancets. Picking out one, you rip the cap off to reveal a sterling needle shining with a sharp point.
"Have you done this before, Miss Lee?" he questions as he watches you hesitate with the blood lancet. "Pricking yourself is quite different from pricking others, isn't it?"
You nod because you knew how different it was. In actuality, you're scared. You always were terrified to prick yourself with the needle whenever you were required to and it was mostly during your practical classes involving forensics. The high possibility of piercing your professor's skin, past the point till where it's necessary, was an untold fear you couldn't overcome. But, as you glance up at his docile face adorning an encouraging smile, in addition to the haughty glint in his eyes, you are much more prepared for the consequences.
"I am absolutely terrified when it comes to pricking myself—what if I..." your glance at his hand, then dart your eyes to his, feeling a breath hitch in your throat.
"You won't hurt me," he reassures you, later on compelling you with his words, "any day now, Miss Lee."
The racking nerve in your head forces you to take a deep breath and you're hauling the pointed tip of the lancet close to his finger. You know it takes one sudden nick to break the skin, and you also know you're supposed to be careful and swift with it. Hesitation breaks your conscience, you're still in two minds, still wondering if this was a good idea. Regardless of your abrupt cold feet, you let the lancet pierce through his skin, drawing out a ceaseless stream of blood; Professor Jeong is heedful of his bleeding finger and proceeds to make three blobs of blood on a microscope slide.
He puts the slide back, the glass clinks against the table but it melts into your thoughts—you were ogling him. You notice his veiny hand trembling softly to the unbridled tremors from the cut on his finger, it was attractive. You wouldn't mind admitting it, he has great hands—and sadly, you had a fetish. Trapping your lower lip between your teeth, you admire the little things about him; the proximity faltered to nothing, gave away how spotless his skin was, how sublimely luscious his lips were, and how the tiny specks of green in his eyes were far too evident in the sea of umber. Though, his hands were all you could think about; his porcelain skin, the bulging veins wrapped around his knuckles while they branched further down his hand—uff.
"Miss Lee?" he calls out, snapping his other finger, "please pass me a cotton swab, I need to clean myself."
You were brought back to the reality, seamless kind, a little vapid where you were impelled to keep a safe and healthy 'professor-student' relationship with him.
Hold up!
Where in the world did that come from?
The thought of having something more than 'professor-student' relationship with him.
You and him?
That's a little...
Far-fetched.
Unless...
There was...
There was a way to vex him.
You look back to all the times he's devalued your existence during his classes. The haughty remarks which rolled off his tongue with so much ease to belittle your short-lived efforts in any of his class, or perhaps, in any of the activities your department would plan. A spark in your mind strikes you in a way you couldn't quite explain, but you know you're finding yourself tighten your grip on his wrist. It's oddly satisfying, it's benign in your mind—though, the tiny bulb of tease was going on and off every second you spent staring at him.
There goes nothing.
Without hesitating you bring his hand close to your mouth, your tongue darts out the minute his bleeding finger finds its way in your sight, and you lick up a stripe to clean the blood off his finger. You hear him gasp, a sharp intake of breath which already told you he was bothered by your actions. Continuing to the rhythm of your heart, you wrap your lips around the tip of his finger and give it a soft suckle. Soon, a metallic copper taste slides on your tongue. Such an eerie sight to witness, by your professors and the others too. Especially the spawn of devil who was too busy charming the ditzy transfer student off her feet; if San catches you being this 'type' of friendly with the professor you 'slightly' resent then you probably could never show your face to anyone on the surface of earth. Luckily, San wasn't even sparing a glance at you.
"Miss—Miss Lee?" his voice breaks when he calls out to you again, prompting you to loosen your grip on his hand before you're letting it drop to his side.
"You were supposed to add antiserums to the slide, drop by drop. Now..." he takes a deep breath, noticing your glossy eyes and your plump lips parted; he's definitely resisting his urges. "The blood on the slide is almost..." He glances down at the table. "...it's almost dry. Miss Lee—" he leans in close to your ear, a coarse whisper sending a shiver down your spine, "—I'd like to see you after class."
"Maybe you can justify your actions then."
He leans back and takes a short gander around. Curling his lips up in a riveting smile, he nudges you with a nod. "Add the antiserums now, Miss Lee. All the others have finished performing the experiment."
You're out of your daze, rummaging your eyes around to find many of your classmates are done with their work and had gone to the other side of the lab, where the desks were.
"I'll be checking your practical sheets before you leave, so make sure you complete them all now." he announces out loud in the class, earning muffled groans from his students. "And no excuses."
"You too, Miss Lee," he turns to you, "now, if you will, you have to tell me my blood group. So, go on."
Again, pulling yourself out of the stupor, you nod profusely and proceed to the next step before the blood on your slide is completely dry. You add a drop of each antiserum on the three droplets of blood; waiting for a second, you watch the drop with antisera D and antisera A added begin to clot. To your conclusion, Professor Jeong's blood group is A+ve. All while you did the experiment, his eyes were fixed on you, fixated on your quivering hands and lips every time you tried to do something. In some instances of his mind, he was admiring you and your dedication, and how badly he had rocked your boat into capsizing.
"Good," he muses, his words turning bitter soon, "you sure can do a few things right. Well, all that's left to do is—" he grunts softly as he pulls the sleeves of his shirt back down, while he shrugs on his coat, "—cleaning and writing. Chop chop, Miss Lee.  And do not forget you have to wait after class."
With those spine-chilling words he leaves you stranded to your spot; unfortunately, this time San had overheard your conversation. He slides next to you, eyeing your workstation before glancing over at you.
His lips push themselves out into a pout, and he grumbles, "fucked up something?"
"None of your business," you grit your teeth, "get away before I chop your balls off."
"Oh, I'm shivering," he deadpans, nudging his elbow with your ribs, "come on, Lee. Tell me. What did you do for him to ask you to wait after class? We both know he's never done it—in fact he hates it when someone waits after class to 'talk' to him." he emphasises with finger quotes, rolling his eyes at you. "You fucked up big time then."
You heave out a long sigh, "I—just, shut up, San. You're the most annoying person in my life."
Grumbling, you glance at Professor Jeong, he was sitting on his desk at the back of the class, by the lockers. His stare was on you. It was on you from the moment he sat down. And even though you may not know what he was thinking, or wondering about, the glimpse of him having his teeth scratching on his lower lip was enough to let you know what exactly he intended on doing with you.
"Don't drag it out on me," he mumbles, his pout still intact on his face, "although, you're denying the truth, which means you two had an anomalous interaction..."
As he trails off, you roll your eyes at him. Finding the courage to break your eye contact with Professor Jeong, you glare at San and bite your lip. "Yeah, he made me wait after class. It's pertaining to me being late. Now off you go, make yourself useful elsewhere. Maybe, help Reagan find the remaining of her skirt, pretty sure she left it back at her dorms."  
San muses for a second before leaning over to stare at the said girl's skirt; she was standing by the lockers chattering with someone. His face twitches smugly, his brows creasing as he checks her out.
"Oh, no no! That does seem more important than dealing with you, Lee." he smirks, biting his lower lip, "see you around, try not to get too infatuated with your favourite professor."
Sauntering away from you, he loses his lab coat and then engages himself with Reagan. You project your frustrations into a sigh and begin cleaning your workbench before heading to the lockers to retrieve your bag and other items. Walking past the professor was a challenge in itself because you were too fazed in your mind by everything he did. Though, you could really say you were fuddled over his decision to make you wait after class. Anyone could tell you exactly how much he despised his students waiting after class, 'cause most of the times it would be the absurd number of female students trying to confess their feelings for him. You could sympathise with him, understand where he was coming from because you would find yourself in a similar situation; you were well sought to in your department, endless confessions, profuse gestures of affection, what not.
Regardless, you realised what you wanted in a man. It was the professor himself.
"Miss Lee, I need your practical journal completed." he speaks up as you're walking past his desk with your tote bag on your shoulder and your lab coat neatly folded in your hands. "You know what, I'll go through it after class. Till then, get your write-ups done."
Offering you a redolent smile, he tears his eyes off you. You swallow thickly, knowing well how ineptly stuck you were with him, after class too. And one more fact, your practical journal was incomplete—blank at the most, which was a catastrophe in the waiting. As the fear creeps up your spine, you bite your cheek and stumble onto an empty desk, settling yourself down to catch a breath.
Time passes in a haste, without bounds, and soon the moment you dreaded arrives with a tinkering bell on it. The class is empty, except for you and Professor Jeong. You could listen to him breathe, placidly whistle out a grumble a few times since he was busy with something you didn't feel the need to pay attention to. The clock on the wall ticks again and you're gathering your stuff before 'sneaking' out of the class. If his attention is solely saturated over something useless to you, then he probably won't even notice you gone.
At least that's what you thought.
"Miss Lee, I must remind you of our little parley where I asked you to wait after class." He doesn't even peek from the file he was reading, and continues, "don't think I can't see you sneaking away."
You stop in your steps, right in front of the open door with a few students lurking behind in the corridor. Stifling a groan, you roll your eyes and turn around on your feet. The man is sat poised in his chair, his lips curved in a smirk as he's staring right through you. Your heart skips a beat, yes too cliche, but you felt its arrhythmic vibrations ring your ears.
"Are there any students loitering in the corridor?" he questions and you nod to it, pressing your lips together. "Wait for them to leave and then lock the doors."
Why?
Lock the doors?
Why lock the doors?
Now your heart was pounding in that bony little cage of yours. Sooner or later, you would find it either in your throat or your guts that is if he continues to stare at you with the intensity of sun. Quite lost in the trance of his melancholic yet concupiscent eyes, you start nibbling on your lower lip, wanting to squeeze your thighs together to rid yourself of the tension you felt in your cunt. The chatters start dithering outside, ascending to the wind of nothing and it brings peace to your mind; not that it wasn't peaceful before, but now, it's just you and him caught in a void of infatuation.
"Do not take my intentions in the wrong way, Miss Lee. I am not so fond of disturbances during one-on-one student session..." he explains, going back to reading his file. Though, after a while he clears his throat and prompts you, "any moment now, Miss Lee."
"Yea—yeah," you stutter, sensing your throat close up.
Taking a step forward you close the latches on the door. The exhilaration of you being alone with him is sort of distorted in your head when you make your way towards his desk. What does he have in his mind? What does he want from you? Is this one of his many ways to make you feel small and little? Like all the times he does when you're attending his classes or so.
The look in his eyes has a spark of joy, just humming across the field of brown containing his pep. Those same eyes follow you around, till you're in front of him; his face shows no emotion, except for that straight line of his lips.
"Would you need an invitation, Miss Lee? Your binder, please." he asks, peeking up at through his long lashes and the black rimmed glasses. The glare on them makes it hard for you to read his eyes this time.
You clear your throat, and fumble with your bag to take the thick binder out. Pages furled out of it, a few flying off to fall on the ground, while a few remained stuck in amidst the others; you could tell Professor Jeong wasn't too happy with the condition of your binder. To be fair, this binder was your repository for all performed experiments so far. Nonetheless, your binder was...incomplete. Biting your lip, you place your binder on the table in front of him.
He eyes it for a moment before grabbing it in his hands and flipping the pages. You couldn't resist holding him on a high regard; his sleek fingers pinching the edges of the pages, turning them, eyes rummaging along the lines, and his parted lips which could tell he was contemplating.
"I certainly did not expect this from you, Miss Lee." he clicks his tongue, "now that I see it for myself, I can't help but agree with my initial remark about you. I would suggest you focus more on your academics rather than wasting your time with your friends and ambling through your life."
He sighs in defeat, mostly disappointment and slides your binder towards you across the table. Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he takes a deep breath and turns his head to you, his face expressing nothing at all.
"Life's not all about strolling through one club then to another. And while you do that, I can't sit back and watch you ruin your potential, Miss Lee," he sucks his teeth, as he continues to berate you with his words, "you're in the running for most proficient student in our department, alongside Mr. Choi. Now, would you be delighted to bear a consequence where he holds the trophy and not you? All because of what...? Some fiddling people you call your friends whose only job is to drag you out to buzzing clubs and what not."
Listening to him hound your existence, your heart suddenly weighs down in your chest, it grows heavy till it touches your gut. Oh no, you were letting it affect your state of mind. On the verge of tears, you look away from him and fixate your blurry vision on the floor; it was overbearing to hold his eyes, to wallow in the disappointment he held in them. Moreover, you didn't want him to see you cry, or shed a tear for that matter because you know you were close. Very close.
You sniffle softly, lowering your head furthermore to avoid to his gaze.
"Miss Lee?"
Silence.
You don't care for the concern his voice shows and continue to toil yourself on the contrasting hue of morning sun and the grey tiles. Blurry vision captures the indefinite shadows of lockers, some bookshelves—the sun was crawling overhead, witnessing your derision with your professor. You don't try to pay him any mind, not that you could even if you wanted to. There's a possible reason to why you don't want to, maybe the answer lies in your uncertain infatuation with him, or maybe it does prove your outlandish feelings for him. Which one of it was genuine?
A small moment passes between you two, roiling in tranquil haze before he clicks his tongue and drawls on a breath. "And to speak on your furtive behaviour—"
"Why do you hate me?"
A beat of serenity yanks his attention.
"What do you mean, Miss Lee?"
"I asked, why do you hate me so much?"
You glance up at him, preparing your unfazed mind for his reaction to your reddened cheeks and nose, and the obvious streaks of tears down your cheeks. The muscles on his face twitch even if it was indiscernible to the moment, you study him; he reveals a speck of pity in his eyes, so pathetic for you to think he'd pity you.
"Sherri?"
His lips quiver so delicately, calling out your name in a sleek yet coarse voice. It was the first time he'd ever called out your name, enunciated each syllable in his utmost trepidation as if he really cared for you. That alone was enough to cause a havoc in your heart, dwindling it further down to your...maybe it was the way he spoke your name out, but you were definitely feeling a spark strike in your pussy.
"I do not despise you, Sherri," he softly murmurs, looking away from you for a long minute before trailing his pitiful eyes back on you. "If my actions have made you—"
"—you always belittle me, humiliate me in front of the class and pretend to act as if you do it all because you care." you ramble, "you don't care about my feelings! All you can think is how to make me fall from my grace. Isn't it?"
You shake your head and bring your hands up to wipe your tears off, which had uncontrollably gushed out of your eyes while you had your meltdown. Your tote bag falls onto the floor with a soft thud, and you pay no mind to it. The hyperventilation soon kicks in, suffocating your lungs with a want to break free from your chest, and your stomach littered with unwanted butterflies fluttering along. More tears slide out of your eyes, and you lose your capability to see clearer.
The dainty streaks of torment on your cheeks, your tears, and your flushed face was a huge turn on for him; he could not probably free himself from his fetish, but his philia for tears or anything remotely close to it, always excited his cock. He shifts in his seat, spreading his legs apart under the desk to free himself from the strain in his pants. Oh how badly he had been aroused, by just watching you cry.
"Sherri, you're mistaking my concern for bullying; fuck! Why would I want to torment or humiliate you in front of the class?" he questions, such dainty voice breaking your heart and making you feel pathetic to sob in front of him.
"Come here."
He lures you in with his soft voice, and a frail tug of his lips; his smile had already proved to be devastating to you and even the slightest of it can make you, his puppet. Without realising it, you're taking short strides around the table to be by his side. He has his hand extended in front of you, something you didn't quite understand until you hold it in hesitation, and he pulls you down on his lap.
You gasp, and then yelp when you land on his lap; at first you find yourself uncomfortable in his embrace but giving it a little time, you relax and settle down, still with a bit of unease. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and he leans close to rest his chin on your shoulder as you sit sideways on his lap. Ambiguous swirls of darkness cover his eyes, and your breath hitches trying to unravel his true intentions. Instead, you were starting to get comfortable with him.
"I do not resent you for who you are, Sherri," he begins with a whispery breath, rubbing your back as he does. "I resent myself for being so helplessly bound under your spell."
Your lips part open, your chest heaves up and down erratically to constrain your wildly pounding heart. Oh, you were gone, you most definitely were.
"Projecting my bitter disposition on you was a mechanism I sought to cope my untamed desire—the ugly desire to taste this forbidden fruit." Mumbling, he turns his head and traces his lips along your neck, kissing and sucking. "Holy fuck, this body of yours...those lips, you don't know how much I crave them."
His hands tighten around your waist, and you gasp for air, "Professor Jeong, this isn't ethical. You're violating the university policy...ah!"
He bites down on your neck, grabbing enough flesh in between his teeth to suck on it. That's going to leave a pretty purple bruise behind, all in its glory, on your neck—so fucking attractive to you.  Pressing down on a moan, you drag your hands to his shoulders, hoping to shove him off to disturb his grip on you. Though you thought. It wasn't easy to make him budge, he wasn't letting you go, and you were gradually falling into that realisation.
"I could lose my job," he whispers, chuckling softly, "I can fucking lose my job if I engage with you, if I make my vile thoughts a reality but I can't control myself any longer, I need you, I need to ruin you—I know you feel the same way about me. Don't you, Sherri?" he nibbles on your earlobe, his hot breath fanning your ear. "Aren't your intentions the same as me, huh?"
"No." you mumble.
"No?"
You shake your head.
He doesn't believe you.
"Sherri, oh you beautiful liar," he sighs, his lips now curling into a smirk, "didn't you think of something else when you were sucking my finger off, hmm?"
You pout, not wanting to answer or have him the satisfaction of being right; instead, you start shuffling on his lap to get out of his hold. Squirming in his lap, you press your butt against his crotch, accidentally touching his hardened cock. It continues to poke your ass, and his fingers dig into your skin when his hold tightens on your waist. You were making it worse, it was visible on his face in the form of quivering lips and shut eyes.
"Don't move...!" he warns you, pressing your lower body against his lap, keeping you fixed in one place. "You'll make me...fuck. You do this on purpose, don't you?"
You stop moving—well you had no choice but to when his brute strength was holding you down against him. "I don't. I haven't done anything on purpose."
Lying is so easy. But him believing it has to be easy too. Though at this point you knew you were teasing him.
"Sherri, don't lie." He peels his eyes open and takes a sharp breath in, "get on your knees."
You gulp. Knees? He wants you on your knees...? That's...really fucking hot.
Eagerly, you crawl out of his lap as he gives you the chance to, keeping his hands to his side. He repositions his chair in a way to face you, as you're kneeling down in front of him, by the side of the table. There's not much distance between you, and the dithered proximity makes your heart palpitate with anticipation.
What was he going to do?
Your mind raced with the possibilities. Was he going to shove his 'obvious' boner down your throat? Was he going to make you ride him? What was his hauntingly beautiful mind thinking about?
"An obedient teacher's pet, how adorable," he coos, stroking his hand over your head as if to pet you.
"Professor..."
"Shush...!" he leans over, closely watching you with his fervent eyes. Out of nowhere the warmth of his thumb engulfs of your cheek. "Not a sound."
Brushing his thumb across, he collects a drop of your tear and brings it close to his mouth. He wraps his lips around his thumb and gives it a good suck; his eyes intently fixed on yours, delineating his intentions. You nod your head and watch him straighten his back to relax against the chair. His eyes glance over at the door for a minor second before he fixes them back on you; with a lilting smirk, he grabs the wooden pointer stick from his table and slaps its tip on the palm of his other hand. The same hand rubs along the length of it until his forefinger traces the tip before holding it in his one hand.
You couldn't help but gulp again, feeling aroused by his hand, and the way it was pumping the stick to and fro. Lowering yourself on your calves, you try to squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to ease your muscles, wanted to rid yourself of the tightness in your cunt because you were beyond wet for him.
"Hands behind your back," he commands, and you oblige without hesitation. "I asked you to be on your knees for me..." he softly mutters, tapping the stick twice on the floor to get you back on your knees.
You do that too; completely unaware of his next move. He drags the stick from the ground to you, to the hem of your skirt and lifts it up—exposing your ruined panties to him.
"Tsk, wet already?" he heaves out a breath, "do I really affect you that much?"
"Yes," you swallow and mumble, "you do."
"Hmm," he muses, humming his words along later, "that makes me want you even more."
With his other hand he takes his glasses off and flings them on the table. He pushes the stick further up till your waist to completely expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt; he licks his lips at the sight, his instincts running wild in his mind. Your hands were perfectly slotted in the small of your back, tightly wound together to appease the tension.
"Ah..fuck," you groan when you feel the wooden stick rub your cunt; he had angled it in such a way that it kept your skirt from falling down and it also gave him enough access to drag it along your slit. "Please, professor, I want you."
Listening to you mewl, his smirk widens, and he slurs his words, "now you want me, Miss Lee? Un-fucking-believable."
He picks up his pace, letting the stick rub itself perfectly against your slit; your cunt clenches around nothing, aching to have something in between, something to fill you up. You writhe in desperation, shifting your weight from one leg to another. Unable to contain yourself, you start grinding yourself against the stick, upon noticing it, he halts his movements and watches you with amusement. Casing his lips into a pout, he traces his forefinger on his lower lip; he's contemplating, mirthfully watching you pleasure yourself on the stick. You bring both of your hands to the front, holding the stick to stabilise it before you increase the pace of hips grinding down.
"Aww, is my little brat getting excited?" he scoffs, shaking his head lightly.
You press your lips together and nod your head, closing your eyes shut to the budding pleasure crawling up your body. Second by second, your sanity shrinks to nothing, making you loosen your grip on the stick. From the corner of your half-lidded eye, you watch him offer you a conceited smile, clearing his intentions out when he pulls the stick from between your legs and slides it up to your chin. Tapping its tip twice to your chin, he gets your attention on him with your eyes wide in anticipation.
He spreads his legs wider in front of you, putting his cock on a glorious display as it tightens in his pants; the outline of his cock figuratively makes you swallow a thick gulp of air. Keeping your head high with the stick, he uses his other hand to palm his crotch, gently wrapping his fingers around his cock to give it a few half-hearted pumps through his pants. With a nudge of his head, he drops the stick to a side and gestures you to come close. Biting your tongue, you crawl towards him, your heart in your throat now. Maybe it was the anticipation, the eagerness to see him bare and under the griming influence of your pleasure, but you were slightly alarmed to find yourself slotted in between his legs.
"Let's get my brat what she wants," he whispers further shifting comfortably in his hair. "Such hungry eyes gawking at the sight of my cock," he grabs your jaw lightly and strokes his thumb under your chin. He tuts, "I get these looks a lot but there's something about you— something about the way you're drooling over my cock."
You let your teeth sink deep in your lower lip, while your lips twitch into a soft smile of amusement. "Am I turning you on, professor?"
You release your lip from your teeth's grip, and he watches it wobble in a daze while you lean close and place your hands on either of his thighs. Rubbing circles with your fingertips on his thighs, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves.
"If that wasn't the case you wouldn't be here, Miss Lee. Kneeling between my legs, ready to take my cock in your mouth, hmm?" he suggestively murmurs, dragging his thumb to your lips till he forces it in your mouth. "Now, open wide."
Using his other hand, he fumbles with the buckle of his belt. While he does manage to get it undone, you decide to suck on his thumb which was still fixed in your mouth; you lick around, blatantly ignoring his rugged skin. You hear him grunt ever so gently to your mouth wrapped around his thumb, tingling with excitement to know what it would be like to have this same warmth around his cock. Everything passes in a haze when he restlessly tugs down on his pants and briefs at the same time; you notice him take his thumb out of his mouth and instead he replaces it with his cock.
The reddened tip of his cock nudges against your lips and you open wide, lowering yourself down on his cock—though, only halfway considering his length would take you long to adjust to while the thick girth already made the corners of your mouth sting. He holds your neck, his fingers delicately splayed on the nape as he pushes you down, however he's mindful of you and how much you can take in. You start stroking the remaining of his shaft—which you would eventually have to swallow deep in your mouth.
"Fuck, you're driving me insane with your mouth, I might..." he trails his words off into a low groan, beginning to thrust himself into your mouth. "I'm not going to last long, am I?"
He taunts, digging his fingers into your skin as he pushes your head further down on his cock; his thrusts become too sloppy, and you don't pay much mind to it. You are too focused on widening your mouth around his cock to fit him fully inside. Feeling the tip of his cock brush against your throat, you almost gag; your throat tightens, and the suffocation starts sneaking up on you, but you push yourself through and sink lower on his cock.
"Fuck, such a good brat, taking me in so well," he whimpers coarsely, "but this little brat needs to be punished for making me break my rules."
You gaze up at him with your teary eyes, softening them as he looks down at you too. Nodding your head, you hollow your cheeks and bop your head up and down after adjusting to his size. Your fingers dig into his fleshy thighs, constraining your moans with his cock stuffed in your mouth, you keep staring up at him till a few drops of tears cascade down your cheeks. He brings his other hand to caress your cheeks, thumb stroking off the tears as he doesn't let go of your head. You're on the verge of gagging on his cock, choking even, but disregarding your gag reflex, he bucks his hips into your face and his cock slides further down your throat. Unable to hold onto your moans and whimpers, you try to make a sound—the vibrations send him reeling from pleasure, he throws his head back and tightens his hold on your neck.
"Can't make a sound because my cock is—your mouth is stuffed with my cock, isn't it?" he teases, closing his eyes shut to relish the wetness and warmth of your mouth. "Don't worry—I won't—I won't cum too soon. My brat deserves a little—a little bit of fun even if she's being pun—punished."
His stutter was absolutely beautiful, it showed how much of a mess he was with your mouth wrapped around his cock, engulfed in the devious warmth of it. Somehow, it gave you a sense of victory, a sense of peace to know you had gotten him on his edge with only your mouth and nothing else. The saltiness of his precum floods your mouth—it makes you retch a bit regardless of that, you continue sucking him off while his thrusts are slow and steady. In the meantime, he pulls his untucked shirt above till his chest and holds it there; he pushes your head further down on his cock, till your nose is pressed against his pubic bone and your skin feels ticklish from his trimmed pubic hair.
His chest is rising and falling at an alarming rate; he surely was a mess, and you liked seeing it. When you peek up at him with your still-teary eyes, you notice sweat covering his forehead, making his hair stick to his skin while his cheeks are flushed with a shade of red. How adorable. How fucking adorable. The ever so haughty and stoic professor was writhing under your touches, with how you lapped your tongue under his shaft and purposely sucked your cheeks in to make it tight.
In actuality, you were really driving him wild; his grip on your neck loosens a bit for a hot second and he uses that time to let his hand entangle in your hair. You didn't realise when you groped his thighs for support, even so, your nails had dug deep enough to leave behind crescent marks on his skin, the kind which would fluster with a brutal purple tint tomorrow. Grasping a proper hold on your hair, he pulls you back and frees his cock from his mouth; a vile 'pop' sound resounds in the room while he does so.
The moment his cock is out of your mouth, you gasp for air, you swallow huge lugs of air through your mouth and glance at him with dazed eyes. His thick and veiny cock was slick with your spit, shining softly under the lights while a few strings of your saliva still connected your lips and his shaft. Your drool had covered every inch of his cock and had also slithered down your chin. The sensation in your mouth was a little sticky and salty from his precum. You keep your mouth wide open and wipe off the drool using the back of your hand; he smugly chuckles, eyes on you like a predator.
"Need to take a break?" he taunts you, belittling your presence and you shake your head to a no. Leaning over, he cups your face in both of his hands and grazes his eyes along your chest and exposed thighs.
"Get up."
Again, his domineering voice forces you to oblige, and you get on your wobbly feet—feeling your throat sore and tight from his cock hitting constantly, you swallow enough amount of spit and try to wash the sting down. He notices it but doesn't say much. His hands slide down from your face and hold your waist as you stand in front him; without any doubt, he pushes your front against the desk and makes you bend over. One hand on the collar of your blouse, and other on the small of your back; he keeps you in that position while he takes his time to shimmy his pants and briefs down till his knees. He positions himself behind you, managing to push your skirt up on your back to expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt. Your wet panties were driving him wild; his breathing becomes even more ragged when he snaps at the waistband and pulls them down to your knees. He swallows thickly when his thirsty eyes lurk over your glistening wet cunt, clenching around nothing for the time being.
"This wet cunt is going to take in every inch of me...fuck," he curses his under his breath while he smoothens his hand on one of your buttcheeks. "But we can't forget about your punishment, can we?"
He flattens his palm against your ass, keeping you pressed against the desk with his hand on your neck; you whimper in anticipation and hold onto the edge of the desk till your knuckles turn while. Anticipation makes you wiggle your ass slightly, as you're on your tippy toes and perfectly bent over the desk.
"No, we can't," you heave out a shaky sigh, not able to control your excitement anymore. "How are you going to punish me, professor?"
You sneer in your seductive voice, slurring your words against your rounded lips to get a reaction out of him. Having your vision limited to the empty classroom and the workbenches, the exhilaration of not knowing what he was going to do, makes you even wetter.
Yunho knows how vile your mind is, he knows the wet patch on your panties continues to grow the more he teases you and honestly, he wasn't complaining. He liked it as much as you did, but he hid it well in his composed speech and relaxed movements.
"There's only one way to punish a brat like you," he grunts, slapping one of your buttcheeks, "count them."
So, you were getting spanked. Such a fitting punishment for a brat like you, by a professor too—why did it feel like you were trapped in a low-budget student-professor porn movie? You can't complain anyway, you were absolutely absorbed in the trance of your pleasure and his hands caressing your butt.
You nod and thus begins the punishment.
Slap!
"One," you mewl, feeling his hand burn on your skin.
Slap!
"Two," your breath hitches when you go to say it out loud, your skin stinging from his hand.
Slap!
"Thr—three!" you groan out loudly, the impact jolting your body against the top of the desk.
This one stung like a bitch.
Slap!
Without any warning, he adds one more spank to the same buttcheek before moving onto the other. He offers it a soft squeeze first, and then pulls his hand back and flattens his palm over it.
Slap!
"How many were those, huh?" he asks your mind fiddles with the remaining brain cells—how many were those? Really. How many?
"Si—six," you somehow manage to sputter, your spit falling on the desk in front of you.
"Good girl," he praises, rubbing his hand on your buttcheek before tracing it down to your folds. His fingers press and nudge against your folds until he rams one finger along your slit. Pushing down, wedging his finger deep inside, he watches your juices coat the length of his finger before he brings it to his nose to give it a good sniff. "I wonder if you're enjoying this punishment, pup. Are you? Are you enjoying this punishment...?"
First, your mind goes haywire when he teases you with that nickname. Pup. Well, you were turning out to be his pet, you might as well roll along with it.
Second, you were certainly enjoying the punishment, liking the way his hands were able to engulf your entire buttcheek at once.
Third, you're forced to slip out of your sanity when he aligns his cock with your hole and slowly sinks in. Your aroused juices proved helpful for him to slip right in. You suddenly start feeling full, the stretch of your walls subsiding into a soothing ache and then it sublimes completely into pleasure. Your desires were getting quenched; inch by inch your cunt swallows him whole, the burn on your walls now pacified by him. He doesn't move when he bottoms out, he keeps his cock sucked deep in you. Keeping one hand on the small of his back, he pushes your nimble body further against the desk—your back arches inwards and prodding your ass out for his easy access. 
"Fuck, such a tight cunt. Got no one to loosen it out, Miss Lee?" he smirks, grunting at the way your walls clenched around him and remains unmoving. "Don't worry, I'll fuck it loose—fuck," you tighten around him listening to his wispy words, "do you want me to, huh, pup? Do you want me to fuck you loose?"
"Yeah—yeah, yeah I'd like that," you murmur, your brain turned into a mush and your body shuddering as he slowly, very slowly, starts moving. He doesn't pull out completely, he keeps his cock buried deep in you and slides in and out at a leisure pace.
"Of course, my pup would like to get fucked senseless," he mumbles, slapping one of your buttcheeks again.
You were fully sure his hand was now printed on your skin in a bright red shade; the soreness didn't matter because the thrill was eating you up and turning it into bliss. Biting back a moan, you keep your breathing steady. Though, you feel your chest shatter entirely when he picks up his pace. Your fingernails start scratching at the varnish on the table, a bit of it getting stuck in them.
"Yes, prof—professor..." you groan, stuttering with his thrusts.
"Nuh-huh, for an obedient puppy like you, I'm your master," he slides his cock out, and rams back into you, letting it plunge deep, "what should you—should you call me, pup?"
"Master," you breathe out, exasperated. "Master, please go faster, fuck! Fuck me harder please, breed your little pup." You cry, genuinely letting tears streak down your cheeks; you were weak already, holding out till he would increase the rhythm of his merciless thrusts.
Something goes off in his head, his hips start snapping at an animalistic pace with your body thrashing against the wooden desk; his hands are all over you, touching you, caressing you, leaving his marks on you. Though, at a point he brings one of his hands to the curve of your back, while his other hand winds itself around your thigh. Seeming seconds drag on with his thrusts curt and sharp, his cock reaching deep in your cunt till you could feel it tauten in the pit of your stomach. Yunho could sense your walls clench around his cock, not liking it one bit—his thrusts start faltering, gradually coming to a halt.
Still buried deep in you, he leans over your back—inching close to your neck, he bites down harshly before whispering, "does my pup want to cum?"
You could discern the slyness in his voice, and you nod your head with your mouth agape, drool glistening down your lower lip and staining your chin. Bearing his size, tuning with his blunt thrusts, and the way his tip was abusing your sweet spot, it was all too much, sending you into a sensory overdrive. At this point, you had zero comprehensible thoughts in your mind except for the heinous acts you were weaving into your body: all of them being about your professor and his huge dick.
"Well, then my pup has to wait a little longer," he grunts close to your ear and then straightens himself up, "master isn't done with his pup yet."
"Can my pup wait a little longer?" he presses his hand down on your back, reluctantly making your walls clench around him.
You're left with no choice but to nod your head again, and it satisfies him; his gradually starts moving again, keeping his thrusts steady and slow. He lets you adjust to him again, and eventually increases his pace. Pulling and shoving himself into you, he starts bucking his hips into your thighs, his grip tightening till his knuckles turn white while you hold onto the edge of the table like your life depended on it. Your body oscillates to and fro, colliding and thumping with the wooden table with his every thrust. The sound of clothes crumpling, and the rattling of his belt buckle, makes your heart race harder in your chest.
You had never imagined you'd be caught in this situation; not that you didn't imagine or fantasise it, you didn't think it'd become a reality. Yeah, it's true that you had countless fantasises about your professor, one of them being fucked while you're bent over his desk—but the probability of him actually fucking you was one in a twenty, considering there were twenty female students in your class. Skin slapping against skin, his cock thrashing balls deep in your tight cunt, you were still mewling in your mind for more. The sensation was diabolical in a way, clustering your brain with unwanted thoughts—hell, you had lost it.
A known tightness tangles itself in your gut, your stomach cherishing the last bit of butterflies it felt before knowing you would flood down on his cock soon. Your senses drop, your stomach twists and knots, your heart runs a miles per hour because his thrusts were helping you chase your high. You were so sure he was going to let you take a break, let you ease out the tightness in your stomach; but to your unbridled surprise, he doesn't. His movements dither, slowing down till he comes to a stop again; he's still buried deep in you, and somehow that caused you more pain than his actual thrusts.
"Aww, my pup is too eager to get off," he mumbles, throwing his head back in pure bliss from your walls still clenched around him, but then he feels you loosen, and he starts pounding into you with a gentle tempo. "Not so soon. You're still getting punished."
He drags on for an hour or so, his thrusts stopping completely sometimes, his cock buried deep in your warmth—eventually he would pick up his pace and ram into your tight little cunt as if it was the last thing he wanted. You had been denied your orgasm a few times, counting it, you had been denied three times so far. Though that pleasure was turning into pain, your belly ached with every inch of strain his cock put on your cunt. Your stomach knots itself for the fourth time, your legs trembling and your yearning crossing your threshold to hold your orgasm in.
The familiarity only grows in your gut, your walls puckering around his cock to milk out his own orgasm; but he knows how to play it off well, he wasn't going to cum before you did. Pressing back into your thighs, he remains unmoving for a second before picking up his pace again, his cock plunges into the deeper void of your cunt, almost protruding the walls to your gut. You have lost your voice to make a sound, one thing—but the other thing was you weren't supposed to make a lot of noise. Swallowing your moans and grunts, you feel your high washing over; your walls tighten around his cock one last time before they're coming undone—releasing you juices all over his cock. Some of it squirts around as his cock still keeps plunging deep into you, a few drops stain his abdomen and get absorbed in his clothes, but he doesn't seem too bothered by it.
"My pup made a mess on my cock," he grumbles, closing his eyes shut as he helps you ease your cunt with a few of his concise and brief thrust. His thighs collide with yours, heat growing between your bodies and your skin slick from sweat and your orgasm. "Such a pretty pup, such a beautiful little baby..." he rambles on his own, incoherent and inaudible, but mostly it was him losing his mind over the trickling warmth of your arousal.
His thrusts become sloppy once he knows he's reaching his high; but he doesn't give out just yet. With a couple more longing and concise thrusts, he lets himself drive his cock deep into your warmth—he counts down the minutes with his ambling pokes till it becomes unbearable for him to hold out. Taking a deep breath and arching his back to let his cock plunge deep, he slides one of his hands on your lower back—pressing, pushing, digging his fingers and palm in your flesh, he releases himself in deep in you. With every thrust, he keeps pulling out till he completely slides out of you. He smirks at the sight his eyes behold, twinkling with a yearning no one knows, not even you; his load dribbles down your pussy, staining your skin in stark white shade, as some of it spurts on your inner thighs.
You're breathless, too fucked to understand anything and thus you couldn't register your surroundings quite well when he flips you over. Grabbing your shoulders, he pushes you down on the ground, having you kneel before him with his cock near your mouth. The veins on his cock were less bulged than before, but his shaft was coated in a thin layer of his cum and glints a bit with your juices.
"Clean me up, pup."
His order doesn't go unheard by you, and as the loyal little puppy you are to him, you hold on to the sides of his thighs and lean in to lick his cock off. At first, it's a weird concoction of saltiness and a little bit of sweetness, soon it fades to nothing. You lap your tongue around his shaft, over and under his tip till you've cleared everything off from his cock—you pull back, smiling dizzily because you were delighted to help him out. Half-lidded eyes trace a line up and you find him staring at down at you, his hand in the process to grab your jaw. Caressing your chin, he pulls you up on your feet and helps you sit on the desk before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull himself closer to you.
"Miss Lee," he whispers, "I'm sure the post-orgasm clarity is now sinking in both of our minds, but we certainly need to address the elephant in the room."
You lean forward to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes shut for a moment, you take a deep breath in and relax your tensed muscles. "Professor Jeong...I've wanted this to happen for a long time."
"So, you have no regard for me losing my job, do you?" he teases, rubbing circles on your back to soothe you, "Lee Sherri, you really are a brat. Making me break my rules."
"What rules?" you grin, peeking up at him as your wrap your arms around his broad chest.
"I don't date my students," he murmurs, pecking your forehead.
"Who's suggesting you date me?" you chuckle, shaking your head, "we can be fuck buddies."
"Is that what you call it nowadays?" he laughs, heartily, pouting down at you as he continues, "we'll have to be really careful, Sherri. Can't have anyone knowing about us—"
Knock knock!
Your eyes go wide, your heart thumps in your chest and your lips start quivering in fear. On the other hand, Yunho is pretty tame, and he only offers you a reassuring smile.
"Straighten out your clothes and relax. It's no stranger, I've been expecting him actually," he mumbles, breaking apart from your embrace to pull his pants and briefs up.
Whilst he is buttoning his pants and buckling the belt, you too tug your panties up and hop off the desk. You try to smoothen out the creases on your skirt and blouse—your white lacy socks were stained with dust at the knees, but you didn't care about it. The clutter of papers on the desk remains as it is, neither of you bothered to organise it. Professor Jeong smiles at you warmly before heading to the door of the classroom, he unlocks the latch and pulls the doors inside to reveal another man with tall silhouette standing there. 
Professor Song.
"Since when have you been locking your doors, Yun?" the latter teasingly mutters and chortles, stepping past his friend and entering the classroom which reeks of sweat and sex. He sniffs the air and along the lines his eyes land on you, "ah. So, you were having "one-on-one" with your student."
Professor Song wasn't a professor from your department, he was the heartthrob of the physics department, seemingly the kind who would definitely not have any sentiments towards his students or anyone younger to him for that matter. Clad in a plaid shirt and khakis, he too had a body worth breaking the laws for; his toned biceps bulged out of the sleeves he had rolled over to his elbows, his thick thighs (which you've fantasied riding on) were defined by his tight khakis, and hazel eyes were piercing through you with curiosity.
"Miss Lee and I were just discussing, weren't we, Miss Lee?" Yunho calls out from behind him, tugging down on the crotch of his pants for some apparent reason.
"Discussing what?"
You shift your weight on your feet, standing an inch away from the desk (where you were just railed by your professor) and you pull down on your skirt, not knowing why you felt the need to. You eye your tote bag fallen down on the floor, then at the mess of your binder on the table, and one thing becomes clear which is you and Professor Jeong did fuck on the table.
"I was chiding her for not completing her experimental write-ups, Min," Yunho adds, scratching the back of his neck as he comes to stand next to him. "Miss Lee, we'll have a proper discussion about your careless behaviour next time, perhaps tomorrow. Now, you may leave."
You nod, "ye—yes professor."
Hastily, you sprint out of the classroom after gathering your things and stuffing them in your bag in a haphazard way; meanwhile Mingi rolls his eyes at his friend and scoffs.
"Lie to someone else, Yun."
"Fuck you," he grumbles before a conceited smirk takes over his face.
"If you keep your trap shut, maybe we can share."
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tomatopers · 3 months
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❝ I'm. . . late?! ❞
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in honor of me also forgetting vday :,) here is my first post for this acc !! I also need to remember to make an intro post n stuff, and hopefully i'll make some friends on here eventually </3 i see ppl interacting with their anons/followers and it's sooo cute when will that be me !!!!
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They forgot Valentine's Day... surely the nineteenth is just as special? Diluc, Zhongli x GN!Reader (separate)
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Diluc watched you silently from a window, the sunny scene outside feeling worlds away from his own dim office. You were sitting on the stone wall surrounding the Dawn Winery, pretending to read one of his boring novels while pointedly ignoring him. He was very often unaware of his stumbles, this being his first relationship, but wouldn't he would catch on soon enough?
Sure it was immature to still act huffy at this age, but Valentine's day was 5 days ago! Not one! FIVE! You had to witness Lisa flirting with the Acting Grand Master for hours, which wasn't uncommon in the slightest, but the librarian seemed to make use of all her cheesy lines on the holiday.
The stone was frigid beneath your bare legs, and you were reminded that the sun hadn't yet begun to do its job this early in the month as your legs grew numb. Perhaps on this fifth day of snubbing your lover, you'd spend the night at a bar- maybe even in Venti's company, or Kaeya's. That last ditch effort to get him to notice your huffy behavior never failed.
The worst part of this whole affair was that you couldn't even be disappointed or properly upset in peace. How could you, when this was clearly not an intentional mishap? Diluc worked diligently, and was far more dependable than most; Though, this trait of his only served to deepen your guilt. Perhaps you should apologize for this childish behavior... Maybe talk it out like proper adults...
6 o'clock found you on a barstool at Angels' share, a little early for drinking but the glass in your hand was clearly not your first. Kaeya sat to your right, an arm resting on the counter as he lent an ear to your woes. Venti stood to your left, strumming his lyre quietly and pitching in jests during the quieter moments.
The door opened at 7 on the dot, and you turned around despite knowing who stood behind you. The backlighting of the evening sun made his hair glow like fire, exaggerating the irritation on Diluc's face to resemble anger. You stood up, slightly tipsy but no less aware, and grasped Kaeya's shoulder to steady yourself before walking forward.
"Good evening, Master Diluc. What brings you here so early?" He seemed to glare at you before casting a glance at Charles. The bartender visibly jumped, quickly bowing a greeting before averting his eyes as Diluc grabbed your wrist and tugged you out of the bar. His grip, though firm, wasn't the slightest bit painful- even now, in whatever bitter mood he was in, Diluc always treated you with the utmost care.
You felt even more guilty for acting the way you did.
He released his hold on you in a more private space, tucked behind a couple trees, and waited. Just as you knew he would seek you out immediately after work, he knew you'd soon crumble under his stare and explain what you wanted. Those red eyes, sometimes blazing with anger or warm with love, were now passive and unreadable.
"Well?"
You felt heat behind your eyes, feeling the tears before they could escape down your cheeks. How stupid. It was hard to form a sentence between sniffles, so you stood and cried as he enveloped you in a hug. Maybe you had more than a few drinks back at the bar...
When your tears were all but spent, you gripped his hand in embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze. "...I'm sorry."
"What for?"
You sighed, "I've been such a child about this, it honestly wasn't even that important yet I-"
"If it bothered you, then it's important. To me."
There it was again, the ever chivalrous Diluc and his overflowing compassion when it came to you. Despite the temptation to lie and play it off, you sheepishly admitted, "It's just that, uh- a few days ago, it was Valentine's day... and we didn't really um- celebrate together... But! It's okay! You do so much already and I honestly don't need to do anything for some silly holiday when we can do stuff like that any day and.."
Looking up, you trailed off into a confused silence. Diluc's face was red, and he was the one now avoiding your eyes. "I'm- My apologies. I admit, it did slip my mind, but that is no excuse. It's more than a silly holiday, and as such, I would be honored if you would allow me an attempt to make it up to you." You burst out laughing, and he looked relieved. You really had no reason to be upset, not with this cute of a lover.
"I would allow you all the attempts possible, Mr. Ragnvindr. All the attempts and more." He smiled and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you followed him out of the alley. "Shall we visit that famous traveling chef then, darling? I heard he's in town. Or the Good Hunter, for something casual? Or perhaps we could buy you one of those gorgeous necklaces they have at the-"
You pulled him in by his collar, feeling him stiffen at the kiss before relaxing. "Diluc, sweetheart, I was thinking something closer to home? I can make dinner, and," you gestured at the setting sun, "the night is still young, I'm sure we can have some... fun, in that great big house of yours."
He turned an even brighter red, trying to cover his blush with the hand you weren't holding. "...That would be perfect."
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It was rarer for Zhongli to go a day without speaking to you than it was for him to remember his wallet. That's why it was evident to even those around you that there was something amiss. You worked at a teahouse, and that just happened to be where Zhongli's favorite tea was sold. When you weren't working, you'd help out at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, or stroll with him along the boardwalk. Plenty of time together, to say the least.
When the regulars witnessed you not serving the consultant's tea, as you always did, it immediately became a source of chatter- Some of the older women were having quite a laugh about young lovers' quarrels, though your relationship with Zhongli was far past the "young love" stage. As you walked from table to table, it was hard to ignore his stare practically burning holes through you.
The first whole hour of his visit must've passed this way; your every movement under the scrutiny of the ex-archon, your coworkers, and half the guests in the teahouse. Your work wasn't any different than usual, no. In fact, you might even be more productive now that you weren't stopping to chat with Zhongli whenever your hands were free. The owner of the place would never admit it, but he too was curious of the predicament under his roof.
Your scheduled break was minutes away, the one you would typically spend at Zhongli's table, but you clearly didn't intend to do so today. For a being such as him, it was inevitable that certain things would slip his mind, but Valentine's Day? You had planned out the entire day as a surprise, the holiday had even fallen on one of Zhongli's leisure days, but he called in the morning to tell you he'd be assisting the Traveler and would not come by. It wasn't even a brief task! He was gone for five days!
It wasn't like you hadn't told him anything, either. "Oh illustrious Rex Lapis, God among men, I beseech your presence in my humble abode on the final day of this week." He had chuckled at your attempt of mimicking the speech of those who cowered before him in his days of glory, taking your hand with a smile and a kiss. It was going to be perfect! But the plans were discarded, and the cake you made still sat untouched in the fridge...
Xingqiu walked in with his usual cheerful wave, heading to the back corner where he'd spend a couple hours reading; As though he noticed your restlessness, he smiled and offered you a seat to join him, "I'll take you up on your offer to regale me with the stories from your trip overseas, if I may?" You smiled back, "Of course! I'll bring the tea and join you."
You spent your break with the young man, and the following remainder of the shift passed with ease. At some point, Zhongli had disappeared- had he gotten upset? Most likely not, such a small matter was far from enough to garner his irritation. It was more likely that work had called for his presence. Maybe he'd notice shop owners taking down their holiday wares on his walk and remember his oversight.
You hung up your apron, bidding the staff goodnight before descending the stairs to head home. Someone was standing at the entrance to a darker alley, one tucked away from the streetlights and the watchful eyes of the Millelith. Quickening your pace, you were about to pass by when a voice, his voice, stopped you in your tracks.
"My dear, won't you tell me what has drawn your ire?" Zhongli stepped forward, his confused expression revealing his failure to decipher the issue alone. "I am unaware of any shortcoming, but I assure you it was far from intentional-"
"..."
He walked closer, "Pardon?" You looked up at him, hoping you didn't look pathetically sad. "It was Valentine's Day, the day you left for that trip with the Traveler. That's why I had invited you over." His face fell, his immediate regret making it nigh impossible to retain your frustration. "I will not make any excuses, beloved, it was entirely my fault that we could not celebrate such a wonderful day together-"
"It was, yes."
"-and I believe I grasp the value of celebrating love with a romantic partner, so while it won't compare, please join me for dinner tomorrow, where I can properly demonstrate my affections. I recall you liking when I cook, and surely such a thing is enjoyable together."
You pretended to consider the matter, before laughing and accepting his outstretched hand. "I would love to join you, and I hope I may occupy your time through the night as well." You saw his gaze sharpen for a moment before he swept you off your feet and into his arms.
"If I didn't know any better, my love, I'd think you were trying to tempt me."
"Whatever gave you that idea, darling?"
Without setting you down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I believe you wouldn't protest to spending tonight together, as well?" You could feel the laughter rumbling through his chest, could see the smile splitting his face even with your face hidden behind your hands from the embarrassment. "My most adorable lover, I shall never again miss an opportunity to exhibit the extent of my affection for you."
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astorianyxkings · 4 months
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Oldest Daughter Dick™ is probably one of my favourite things ever. And it always will be and here's why:
Of course Dick loves his siblings and of course he loves that they know Bruce as the father he is. But it won't stop the jealousy he feels. And no one gets it, not even Jason. They were all raised by Bruce Wayne, he was raised by Batman.
When Dick came to live with him, Bruce had no idea how to he a father. How to handle normal kid stuff like sicknesses and school events let alone the fact he was an acrobat. He was Batman and Dick was raised to be not just his successor but the only contingency plan he had against himself.
Bruce never held his punches ("That was a good block but I still got you, didn't I?" Bruce had said, rubbing cream into the blossoming bruise on Dick's side. "I'll get you next time," Dick had promised, young eyes challenging. "You better." Bruce had grinned back.) All attacks were to remind him that he was at a disadvantage strength wise and thus needed to re-evaluate his lines of defense and offense.
Dick was raised by the paranoid-in-his-late-twenties-probably-shouldn't-be-a-dad-despite-what-Marisol-said Bat. A fun game of catch? He was dodging Batarangs. Learning to drive? It was the Batmobile and he was age 14 (and a half). School events? He was fumbling, awkward and did not want to be there (but still was because he'll be damned if his boy didn't have his support.)
And you know that's fine, Dick was fine. It wasn't Bruce's fault he didn't know how to be a proper dad, despite Alfred's parenting books and videos. And he did try, he was always there. But it just really hits a sore spot everytime he sees Bruce hold a punch before he knocks Tim out cold or when he's behind the wheel with Steph telling her what not to do. Or even when he's at school with Damian and Duke making Marjory and her cupcakes look ridiculous compared to him and his coconut crumble cakes.
It also irritates Dick beyond senseless whenever the topic of sparring with Bruce is mentioned. ("We can all beat the old man Goldie, he's ancient." Jason shrugs off and Dick wanted to scream.) The only one who even tries to sympathize with him was Cass. More than likely because she'd seen him fight as Batman The Dark Knight before seeing him fight as Bruce The Father of Six-Almost-Eight.
And it just really stings because he can't relate to being raised by Bruce the way the others can't. Bruce changed for them, not him. And maybe that kind of hurts. But maybe he's overreacting.
What he doesn't realize is he's the reason why Bruce changed. Bruce saw the hurt and anger in Dick's eyes when he fired him from Robin (Think Shifu denying Tai Lung the Dragon Warrior scroll). He knew the second he saw the betrayal in Dick's eyes after seeing Jason as Robin, that he'd have to change. (The same way Shifu should've changed for Tigress but I digress, not that fandom).
Bruce pulls his punches because he hated seeing Dick limp away from their sparring matches—despite the fire and promise of a rematch in his eyes. He teaches them how to drive regular cars before the Batmobile because the one time Dick crashed (while trying to avoid some of Poison Ivy's vines) his heart rate skyrocketed so high Clark had called him up demanding to know if he was okay. He shows up for Duke and Damian and Cass and Tim because Dick's smile whenever he saw Bruce in the parent's lounge never failed to make him melt.
Bruce stands firm on the fact that while he may have made a hero out of Dick, Dick Grayson made a father out of Bruce Wayne.
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getodrools · 4 months
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𐙚 DIFFERENT POLES: TOJI FUSHIGURO!
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IN WHICH, step dad! toji was snooping around and found your personal items! and toji takes the chance to blackmail you for being a stripper – with shameful lap dances in return for keeping your little secret…
I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! stripper! reader. dub con (coercion). step cest. blackmail mention. age gap (reader: early 20s, toji: late 40s). manipulation. lap dance turned to riding. slight praising + degrading. humiliation. dacryphilia. size difference. overstimulation. cervix/womb fucking. non con creampie. orgasm denial. | WC –> 1.1k+ est ! !
NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p
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“please… don't tell mom.”
was the first thing you could muster up through fat tears. the embarrassment was flamming at a rise in the pit of your tummy when your step-father found your secret stash — not asking why he was even going through your panty drawer in the first place, too caught up on the fact he was holding your intimate stripping items with his bare hands.
you remember how he heavily sighed too, the deep shame in his voice was guttural, “i’m so disappointed in you… but i won't,” you also remember thinking you were actually off the hook; hiccuping through slowing tears ‘till leafy eyes hooded into deep sets, “only if you show me what you do.” and even when toji sparked up a slimy smirk, you remember how he stuffed his back pocket with your panties as anew tears began.
“fuck, they must really love you.” his words only add to the stinging humiliation – just how the cracking swats laying firm against the globes of your ass ache. and you could only claw at the broad shoulders ahead of you as a safe haven.
“don't get all shy. show me that slutty face-- show me those pretty ‘fuck me eyes’ of yours.” toji was cruel, battering your ass into his vice; squeezing and groping the tender skin ‘till the jiggly flesh molded out from between his fingers, forcing your face to tighten and eyes to peel back.
“toji!—”
“what? scared i’ll destroy your money maker?” you never knew how slimy your stepfather could get, watching how that silvery scar rises with a filthy smirk.
“fuck me. i’m too hard just to get fucking rubbed on.” your saliva thickens in your throat, feeling a twist in your stomach at his harsh and crude, sudden words.
the fleeting idea of fucking a man you call ‘father’ was wrenching, but feeling the thick print throbbing beneath you and the scare of your mother finding out hanging above your head, you slid your panties over the fat of your folds.
“good girl. bet they pay you lots for this-- how many gross men paid my pretty daughter for her pussy, huh?” toji gruffs out with no shame while adjusting his pants ‘till the fat pole of his meat spurred out.
you try hard to ignore the vulgar, spitting comments he spews out with, but watching how the older man worked his length with a sharp twist and panted at your body hovering over his to saddle against, you couldn't help but feel the moistened walls of your cunt flutter in shame.
“well, that don't matter now. i got a family discount.”
where was the shame anyways?
the oozing pre-drooling from the fat tip of his cock reminded you there wasn't any as you sucked in a deep breath to behest his throbbing length.
lined sweat crossing your forehead glistens as you settle your folds against the crown of his cock; dropping yourself to sheath around his more than nth-inch bitch-breaker into your pussy, feeling your walls stretch in vigor – an almost pain crowded but itched a deep sense of pleasure.
toji was thick, and he knows it too, watching how breathless you got stuffing yourself like a rag doll.
yet, he couldn't care, still holding that scare above your head and laid further back, soaking in the snug warmth your cunt blankets around him with. he lets out a breathy groan and cranes his head back while you suck in your bottom lip to chew on at the invasive fill.
you ignore how your stepfather never lets go of you barring hips, almost forcing them to roll tenderly against his with fervor. impatient he was, he squeezes at soft flesh to lean you – a position to let his cock piston up into your spongy walls with battering shock.
you gasp.
eyes peeling back wide at the barreling fill of his cock punching deep into your core mercilessly.
toji’s fist-sized balls bump against your ass with muffled claps at each thrust and you could only lean into his chest as a safe haven; clinging to his broad shoulders as trembling legs buckle around his, letting the older man fasten the sweaty work into his own hands. his rhythm was found quickly – a pace that was unrelenting and sharp; an immediate start-up of frantic fucking.
toji had the feeling of stuffing you balls deep pass through him like a sixth sense — as if he knew prodding at your cervix would make you drool, and he kept at it.
keeping you close with his cock powering through you and adding a strong edge to every buckle and jab into your sweet tightness, he hits at your cervix with the strength of one. the fleshy taut barrier concaves around his cockhead each time, forcing your eyes to bubble up in tears; tears of rather intense pleasure comprising with the mix of delicious pain. and the fast pressure applied to your sensitive perk forces your insides to respond by roiling around his cock, but crocodile tears  wasn’t enough to slow toji – not at all, only making the man closer to cumming.
but feeling tight walls spasm around his working cock, he froths knowing that sensation of a women – the longing feel of a high about to spatter a filthy mess against him, and he slows his hips, rocking them ever so slightly ‘till you catch the sense of reality back.
you almost whimper at the, almost, complete stop.
“your pussy was squeezing me, ‘bout to cum, huh?” clenching your eyes at the dirty truth, you shamelessly nod in hopes he'd run the engines again.
“no cumming for you. bad girls don't get good things, so finish me off.” toji keeps his vice around you and watches dearly how your eyes drop from hoods to doey sets.
“get to it. your mother comes home in ten minutes or so.” your senses click back from his gruff words, and you hadn’t realized how you were about to cum all over your stepfather's cock in minutes.
the growing sense of being impatient was heading for you, and the sense of being caught was looming right above your head – a guilt growing to fuck yourself like a toy in excuse…
choking up a sob, you keep the throbbing cock poking deep into your cunt, practically feeling the capped-tip kiss at your womb as you sat firmly into his thick lap. your father finally frees his bruising grip and lays his hands to the side nonchalantly, now letting you take charge — in a sense.
your hips roll against his in pure ardor, driving the breath from your own lungs in a single rush for a rhythm as gravity went to work; breast bouncing and panted moans falling. fucking the sopping heat of your cunt with broad strokes and harsh jabs that make your pussy writhe, you can even feel the dark pricks of hairs tickling at your clit; softly rubbing at the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“better at riding dick than your mom.” he adds to the filth with no warning. purely enjoying ridden flesh sinking into embarrassment as sopping folds go obscenely wide in acceptance of his cock.
with full-bodied strokes — putting your all into it; every line and inch of flesh tensing hard as you rail yourself out. almost making a mess above him as toji felt his balls swell and cock fill out from it's aching knot; pleasure rising, the heat in each of your loins building to unthinkable heights.
toji gave no warning, again.
face tightening as toji moaned wordlessly as the thick slab of heavy meat burbs out spurts of liquid warmth into the deep core of your womb. you feverishly moan out in disgust, feeling the ropes of rich baby-batter paint into your teaming depths, slathering against the entrance of your womb and globbing out as you jump up and crawl away in notion fear.
“did you just cum in me?!” you groan at the side as toji’s dick still spurt out dribbles of white goo, “you're sick! i’m your daughter!” with the whiplash of your head, you only lock gazes with lazy green eyes that look at you no different.
you swallow up your words.
“anyways. if you're so worried, then you better hurry up n’ get your ass washed. your mom just pulled into the driveway.” toji looks over from your bedroom window, seeing a black car rolling in and parking…
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<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>
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kurogane2512 · 22 days
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Hello! I have a story idea but idk if it's thirst or not. I honestly don't know the difference between thirst and a normal fic ;-;
But here:
G!P Reader x Signora
Reader is one of the adopted children of Arlecchino. Signora visits the children with gifts from time to time and while others are afraid of her, reader is the only one seeking and looking forward to her visits. Reader would always tell her she loves her and wants to marry her in the future and Signora would laugh and just say yes thinking it was just child talk. Time skip to when the reader grows up and she starts actively pursuing Signora (Signora doesn't age and all so :3). Signora would act annoyed but on the inside she gets all flustered whenever the Reader flirts with her or gives her gifts. Signora eventually gives in and gives love another chance. Ultimately leading to a more intimate relationship.
Sorry if it's a long read. I got this idea because of that one Arlecchino voice line🕺
Idk if this is thirst worthy or not. Feel free to walk past this if it's not💙
Hii, it's okay anon I don't mind the request~
Ngl this would be.... questionable, to say the least, if it was any other situation. But as you said since Signora doesn't age, or is at least already way older than most mortals, it's honestly so sweet to think about. It's like a dream come true, imagine the random pretty lady you had a crush on in childhood and grew up to love 🥹
18+ CONTENT
Game: Genshin Impact
Characters: La Signora x g!p reader
Type: Fluff and smut
Long fic like really long, I honestly loved the scenario so I wanted to write it properly. Also note I haven't done Arlecchino's SQ so apologies if some stuff is inaccurate.
You were 10 years old when you first laid eyes on her, the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. She walked inside the mansion with her heels clinking, a big cape dragging behind her, long shining blonde hair that reached her hips with 2 rose buns tied above, a small butterfly clip on one side of her hair, a strange embroidered mask that covered her right eye and cheek, red lips and her free eye that scanned the surroundings.
You were spellbound as soon as she walked in, and so were the other children as they excitedly sprinted towards her to greet her. It wasn't every day you had such visitors; this woman gave an aura of authority and elegance as if you can't just say anything to her but the children clearly didn't catch that and were more excited to meet this new visitor. However, the woman's reaction caught everyone off guard.
"Do you teach them nothing, Knave? They don't even know the Harbingers they'll be assisting when they grow up, much less know the appropriate manners when in their presence." the woman harshly spoke with her eye squinted as she glared at each of the children in front of her, making them flinch in cowardice.
"....I know what and how to teach them plenty well, Fair Lady. You need not concern yourself with the affairs of the House." your 'Father' replied in a slightly annoyed tone.
"Hmph, such little brats will join Tsaritsa's Army? I better see them grow up to be capable Fatui soldiers, otherwise I'll take matters in my own hands once they come to me."
The woman declared then walked further inside and sat upon the sofa, draping one leg over the other with her arms crossed over her chest. The children stared at her in silence and hesitated to say anything then she looked at them again and spoke.
"Well? Am I not even going to be shown some basic hospitality?"
Your 'Father' sighed then instructed some of the children to bring over tea and snacks as prepared earlier. All this time, you were hiding behind a corner and silently observing the commotion but dared not get closer. Your 'Father' noticed you standing and called out to you.
"Y/n, go and assemble the younger ones here. I'll introduce everyone to the esteemed guest."
You nodded and went away to do as ordered, you gathered all the younger children of the house and had them assemble in the living room alongside the previous children.
"Well then, let me introduce everyone. The guest in front of you is La Signora, the Fair Lady, the 8th of the Fatui Harbingers and my colleague. You may call her Lady Signora or ma'am. Now, give your greetings to her."
"Welcome to the House of the Hearth, Lady Signora. We are honoured to be in your presence." all the children spoke together in an almost mechanical tone, this was a common greeting you all had practiced to be said whenever a guest came- which had been quite rare hence you were not used to it but still spoke flawlessly.
"Hmph, that's better now. Go on, tell me your names." Signora spoke and turned to face you all in anticipation. The children spoke out their names one by one and Signora surprisingly listened intently as if she was remembering everyone's. It was eventually your turn and you hesitated for a moment then softly spoke.
"Y-Y/n.... nice to meet you, ma'am."
"Hmm, that timidness won't do for someone your age. Have more confidence befitting a Fatui."
"Y-Yes ma'am!" you said with a bow and everyone around you chuckled at your state. You hated experiencing this, the laughing and mockery from others younger than you. Soon everyone had told their names and you all were dismissed as Signora proceeded to drink her tea and your 'Father' had to keep her company out of obligation. You had barely turned around the corner of the room when you heard the two of them talk and decided to listen in.
"What is your intention for coming here unannounced, Fair Lady?"
"My, are you also going to uphold Crucabena's rule of prohibiting us Harbingers from visiting?"
"I simply wish to know if you have been sent here by the Doctor, and if the two of you have some hidden motives. You must be aware of 'Mother's' previous dealings with him."
"Hmph, I have no connections with him. He does what he pleases and I do not barge in. My area of responsibilities is different."
"I will trust your word then. But that still doesn't answer my first question; what are you here for?"
"You have a knack for putting your nose in other people's business, don't you, Knave?"
"I believe the business here is completely connected with me and I cannot be excluded. So yes, I will question you until you answer."
You could tell your 'Father' wasn't pleased with her visit, especially since it was unannounced. You too wanted to find out more about this mysterious lady who was one of the Harbingers.
"Fine, satisfy your inhibition then. I was merely curious as to your operations, your methods. Now that you have replaced Crucabena, it seems I'm not the only one sceptical of your competency..."
Signora paused and put her tea cup down as a smirk formed on her lips, "....I'm here on behalf of Her Majesty herself. This is one of the things in my area of responsibilities. You'll do well to remember this, Knave."
"Huh, so you are here to snoop around and report to Tsaritsa if the House is still useful, is that it?
"If you wish to put it that way."
Arlecchino scoffed and stood up then excused herself out. You quickly ran away to the common hall as Arlecchino approached where you were standing and tried blending in with everyone before she could become suspicious of you. Signora left without announcing her return just as her arrival and the children finally eased out and started talking amongst themselves.
"That lady was so rude! Are all Harbingers this way?"
"She looked so pretty... but she was so mean...."
"Hey, will we have to join her unit when we grow up? I don't want to...."
Everyone showed clear disdain for her and wished she'd never come back, you too had similar thoughts but you felt she wasn't as bad as everyone thought. You remembered how she scolded you to be better, you thought you would feel hurt but instead you felt slightly motivation. You were treated as an outcast in the House, you didn't get along with other children but being one of the oldest you had to take care of them alongside Arlecchino.
You thought Signora would never visit again, but here she was just a week later. This time, she had some packets kept in the lobby and waited for the children to gather around her. Everyone looked at the packets in excitement and anticipation, expecting some kind of gifts. Arlecchino walked in with the remaining children and glared at Signora who ignored her then she picked up one box and began announcing.
"Since all of you behaved decently last time, I decided to bring over some presents. However, those who dislike me shall receive none, so it's better that you change your attitudes sooner than later."
Hearing the word 'presents' was enough to make everyone jump in joy but they held some reservations in front of Signora and acted moderately. You knew they didn't like her, but they pretended well enough in order to receive the presents. She proudly smiled and distributed boxes to everyone, now it was your chance and you walked up to her to receive yours.
"Since you are the oldest, I expect you to do well with this." she said while giving you your present.
"Thank you, ma'am." you earnestly thanked her, truly grateful for the gift, but you didn't know if she could tell that among everyone else who were simply pretending.
Your second meeting with her was different and more positive; but it seems first impressions were hard to forget so every time she came now, she brought over gifts. You, meanwhile, came to like her company a lot. While other children maintained distance from her, you got the chance to get close and talk with her. She seemed to appreciate your bravery and intelligence for choosing to interact with her over running away like everyone else.
Soon after, you no longer accepted her presents. Instead, you looked forward to her visits just to be able to see her and spend time with her. She visited once or twice a month mostly, sometimes once in two months if she was extra busy. She seemed to travel around a lot since she often brought souvenirs from other nations, but you preferred listening to her talk about what she did and saw.
"Ma'am, will you marry me when I grow up?" you suddenly questioned her one day while you escorted her to her ship. The question caught her off guard to a great extent, so much as so that she coughed and hid her blushing face before replying in her usual prideful manner.
"Such insolence.... kids these days are really unruly. Hmph, you'll have to do far better than that if you expect me to marry you, brat~"
You excitedly nodded, "I will! I promise I'll make you fall in love with me!"
Signora chuckled and patted your head in return. That was the first time she touched you in any manner, you knew she didn't take you seriously and discarded it as a child's ramblings. But you were determined to keep up your promise. For this, you knew you had to work hard and what your destination was.
"Father, may I make a request?" you went to Arlecchino one day after dinnertime to discuss with her privately.
"Hm, very well. What do you want?"
"I....I wish to train from you, combat training and anything else that's required to be in the Fatui."
"So that means you have decided to join the army once you grow up, is that correct?"
"Yes, I'm certain. Please train me, I humbly request." you spoke with a bow.
Arlecchino stared at you in silence as if she wanted to question your reasoning, but she decided against that and instead agreed to your request.
"We begin tomorrow. 5 am in the arena."
"Thank you, Father!"
Training with her was nothing short of grueling and hardcore, she didn't hold back and taught you everything as required. You learned various weapon skills in addition to strategies and tactics. Years passed as this routine continued, you were now 16 and changed significantly. Many children in the House had already left to pursue their own dreams as allowed by Arlecchino, this would have been impossible in the presence of the previous Knave.
It was time for you to choose your own path as well, which you had already decided long ago. Arlecchino called you to her office one day to discuss the same. She was, of course, aware of what you wanted. But she wanted a final answer now, and perhaps even satiate her curiosity finally.
"Thank you for all the time and energy you gave to train me, Father. I'm forever indebted to you. I will be sure to not disappoint you." you said with a bow and Arlecchino nodded.
"So, I understand your goal hasn't changed. You still want to join the army in Snezhnaya?"
"Yes, Father. I never once thought of anything else."
"Very well then, answer my question and you are free to go."
"Yes, Father."
"What is your reason for joining? You saw everyone else left to pursue a better life, you have been well aware of what constitutes being in the Fatui. So tell me, why do you still pursue this?"
You pursed your lips, you weren't surprised by the question.
"Because I want to help accomplish Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa's dream with you all. I want to walk the path of ice and destruction with my fellow Harbingers and create a new world together."
Arlecchino stayed silent for a while then let out a sigh, "A better answer than what I was expecting, you have surpassed my expectations. Very well, I shall have your name drafted right away."
"Thank you, Father. May I make one last request of you?"
"Go on, consider it your farewell gift."
"....If it is in your hands, could you assign me under Lady Signora?"
Arlecchino's eyes widened and a small smirk formed on her face before she replied, "Hm, it is not in my hands but I can recommend to the person responsible and they are more than likely to accept. However, the Fair Lady's unit may be a waste to you. She is a diplomat and engages in diplomacy related missions mostly, your skills are more suited for The Captain's unit."
"I...I appreciate that thought, Father, but I'd be grateful if I could be put under Lady Signora, please."
Arlecchino was intrigued, but not surprised. Truthfully, she always had a hunch about your true feelings for a long time. It was not hard to notice your attraction towards her colleague once she observed how much you clung to her whenever she visited, her colleague also admitted you were the best kid in the bunch and you both got along better than others.
"Alright, you are dismissed. Pack your things, you will depart tomorrow."
Just like that you were in Snezhnaya within a few days, the land of freezing landscapes and mountains under a blanket of stars and colorful lights. You were closer than ever to the promise you made years ago; perhaps it was foolish to pursue such a goal, Signora was a Harbinger, after all. You would merely become her subordinate now and from what you knew about her, she was very strict and hard to please.
Well, you had already seen some of that prideful side of hers as a child. But you also knew she cared much more than she let on. All these years when she came to the House, she presented no ulterior motive and even her previous statement to Arlecchino about being sent on Her Majesty's behalf looked like a fluke. You had sometimes caught her being happy surrounded by children, she really came just out of her heart's desire for love.
By next week, you were assigned to your unit and as you had hoped, you were in Signora's unit. She called all the new recruits to the training arena for your first brief session. You never told her that you planned to join the army, much less her own unit. You doubted Arlecchino would have disclosed it either so you assumed she may become slightly surprised seeing you. A chill flew through the hall as the door opened and your superior walked in.
"Begin with attendance right away." she ordered one of her subordinates who took out a list and began calling out names.
"Y/n Snezhevna" your name was called out after a while.
"Present!"
You looked over at Signora to see if she reacted in any manner but her face didn't shift from the cold, uncaring expression at all. She silently stood in front of you all and observed each and every one as if judging their competency right on spot, you wouldn't be surprised if she really was able to tell people's skills by just one look. After attendance, she introduced herself and gave a briefing about the Fatui's goal, Tsaritsa's noble dream.
You couldn't help but feel motivated and inspired with the way she talked about Tsaritsa's dream; you could tell she respected her a lot and worked hard to achieve the dream and she naturally expected the same from her own subordinates. You felt eager to work for her, she was as you had expected- strict, cold, relentless in work and tough to please. She paid no special heed to you; well, good thing you had prepared yourself for this.
It took lot of effort to make her open up to you- several early mornings of greeting her before anyone else, giving her flowers to start her day brighter, late nights of staying back for her and escorting her home, ranking the best in training so she'd choose you to take on missions- it took several months of all of this before she finally acted slightly more than your boss.
"Y/n, I'm going to the House next week. Come with me."
She hadn't been able to visit in a while; in fact, this was the first time she'd visit ever since you joined her unit. You agreed with no hesitation and by next week found yourself back in your home, the place you grew up in and made you into the person you are today, the place where you saw the woman you love who was currently standing beside you. You helped her carry the presents she bought along and distributed them to the children.
"There are less children here than before, did so many leave this year?" Signora questioned you.
"Yes ma'am, I'm the only one who joined the army. Others..... betrayed."
You carefully chose your words, you still had to abide by Arlecchino's rules and you couldn't disclose the truth. Signora hummed then crossed her arms over her chest, "I saw potential in some, it's a shame they left."
She paused and you nodded along then she mumbled under her breath, "Good thing you didn't...."
You didn't hear what she said and she didn't let you ask further. You departed after spending some time and were currently on the ship back to Snezhnaya. Signora called you to her cabin during the journey once, an unexpected call but you assumed she was going to brief you for the next mission. However, it was something entirely different.
"Say, Y/n, did Knave make you join the army because of your skills?"
"Ah— No, ma'am. I joined by my choice. And I didn't always have these skills, I trained after I decided I wanted to join."
"Hm.... Any particular reason you had for joining? Aside from Her Majesty's goal, a more personal reason?"
You hesitated to speak but she was adamant, "Um.... forgive me in case I overstep my boundaries with this." You walked up to her and kneeled on one knee in front of her and gazed at her affectionately, she suddenly became embarrassed at your position and remembered the silly promise you made as a child.
"It's to keep my promise to you, ma'am. To make you fall in love with me and to eventually marry you."
Signora's eye widened, she was definitely shocked to hear that you still thought of that. She had expected you to forget it after growing up, she certainly didn't think you'd take it this seriously.
"You.... you insolent child!" she lashed out and stood up with a stomp of her feet, you instinctively stepped back and bowed to her.
"That's your reason for joining?! A foolish reason like that? This is why you tried to get in my good books.... all the flattery and adulation was for this? You really expect me to fall for you and even marry you?!"
"I will try my best! I will keep trying until you grow tired of me and want to send me away! I will accept any punishment in that case, but I won't back away now! I promise!"
"You.... what did you even see in me? Do you not realize you are harboring a petty childhood crush?!"
Signora gritted her teeth at your unbelievable words. You continued bowing your head and waited for her to speak but she remained silent, you then slightly looked up at her and were caught by an unexpected expression on her face. Was she blushing? Was she blushing out of embarrassment? Did she actually become flustered at your words? You found it hard to believe, but she was unbearably adorable and you felt you had some chance.
"It's not that! I swear it's not that.... I love you, ma'am! I love you very much! I will do whatever it takes to show you!"
"You.... g-get out of my sight!" she ordered and turned away from you, showing her back to you. You smirked to yourself and retracted for now, it was better to be a little more patient. From that day on, you changed your tactics. You thought Signora would keep you away to discourage you but she made no changes to your schedule and rank. You knew she actually loved the way you treated her, the attention and praise fuelled her ego, and also nourished her needy self.
You flirted with her more from now on, in more obvious ways and sometimes even in public. People wondered why Signora tolerated you when you made her so annoyed, but you knew the truth. Just like that, a few years passed since you knew it would take a long time to win her heart and you remained steadfast. You were 21 now and determined to take things seriously. A perfect opportunity presented itself, a diplomatic gathering which Signora was invited to.
She usually attended these gatherings alone as the mission would become easier, she'd use her beauty to 'seduce' the host and important guests to get information from them. It was a tactic she was all too used to, even if she personally disliked doing it. You accompanied her and were ordered to remain hidden, to observe and be ready for any attacks. But you took some liberties and decided a different approach without telling her.
"Ahem, may I have this dance with the esteemed Fair Lady?" a familiar voice called out to her as she mingled with the guests, she turned around and saw a masked face, but she could make out it was you right away from your eyes. She looked at you from head to toe in surprise, you were wearing a formal suit as per the occasion giving you a very noble appearance. Signora hesitated and attempted to question you but you took her hand and pulled her to the dance area.
She looked around and saw many people staring at her with unpleasant looks, that's when it dawned on her. She decided to go with the flow, this wasn't a bad strategy either. In fact, it was more pleasant considering the person touching her now, at least it wasn't unfamiliar men with ulterior motives. You took up your positions; one hand each joined together, your other hand on her waist while hers was on your shoulder.
As the violins played, your bodies moved together in rhythm as if you had practiced several times like a couple. Signora never taught you to dance in all the time you had been with her, she was quite surprised how well you adapted to her pace and followed. Of course, you had learned from your ‘Father’. She figured it was better to know in case you ever had to do espionage missions to high-end gatherings like this. Signora actually felt impressed by you, she would have scolded you for defying orders but this was working better than she assumed.
“Is milady satisfied with my performance?~” you slyly questioned, earning a smirk from Signora.
“It’s not bad, slightly unpolished but nothing that some practice cannot fix~”
“Well, I hope to learn from the best~”
Signora smiled, “You acted against orders. You should know there will be punishment later.”
“As long as the mission is completed without hindrances, I’ll accept any punishment. After all, I already received my reward for it~”
“Oh?~ What might that be?~”
Your lips curled up from one side, you suddenly grabbed her thigh and tightened your hold around her waist before picking her up and spinning around. She instinctively held you tighter and barely registered what you just did, she was back on her feet before she knew it and heard the crowd bustling in awe at your action.
“To dance with the woman I love, the most beautiful of all. I couldn’t ask for anything better~”
Signora averted her gaze with a light blush, “You are mad.”
You leaned near her ear to whisper, “Only for you~”
Signora’s heart skipped a beat. The way you spoke that so earnestly, your eyes unwavering and determined, showing the depths of your feelings for her. Just why did you like her so much? What did she do to make you fall in love this badly? You then did another bold move; you made some distance from her then pulled her towards yourself and embraced her from behind. Her arms crossed over each other as you grasped them and caged her in your arms, holding her close in a possessive hug. You were close enough to bury your face in her neck and inhale her intoxicating scent, but you held back and gave her space.
Signora was startled as you tugged her near, a gasp threatening to escape her lips. Her surprise caved and she relaxed almost instinctively against you; the closeness of your bodies, the intimacy of your love- she could feel your heart beating against her body, it told her you were nervous but trying your best for her. She felt overwhelmed at this moment. She hadn’t let love in for so long in her life, she had closed herself off and dedicated her life to one goal. The love you touched her with was infinite and selfless, she had forgotten how it felt to bask in this kind of love.
She knew the children always pretended to like her, they only cared for the gifts. They were children, after all. She didn’t want to taint their innocence with her selfishness, she acted the way she did to satiate her own loneliness and desire for love. She never intended to make real bonds with any of them, she was content with knowing that they disliked her and would probably never think of her as someone more than who just bought expensive gifts. She was surprised the day she saw you in her unit, why did you come here? Why did you not run away when you had the chance? Now she knew the answer to that, and she didn’t know how to feel.
“Ma’am, one of our targets, Duke Cartier has been staring at us for long. He seems eager to steal you.”
Signora snapped out of her thoughts as you whispered in her ear, remembering the reason she was here and doing this in the first place.
“How do you know he’s not looking at you?”
“You were talking with him when I came, I saw him get angry when I took you away. It’s the perfect chance to get what we need from him.”
“...Fine, we’ll switch then. What are you going to do?”
“Our other target, Ms Lily, gave me a certain look some minutes ago. I suppose I’ll get to work with her.”
Signora raised her brow at that, “Can you handle it on your own? I had another strategy in mind for her.”
“It’s fine, she’ll be easy. I already got the toughest woman to dance with me, everyone else is a piece of cake~”
You softly chuckled in her ear making her smirk as well. You then turned her over and pulled her flush against your body before dipping her down and gazing at her passionately. The dancers moved in a circle and soon started switching partners, “Be careful with the Duke, he seems really unruly.”
Signora chuckled, “Don’t forget who you are talking to~”
Signora spun out of your arms and into the arms of the Duke who was one of your targets in this gathering. You looked at the way he possessively wrapped his arms around her and felt infuriated inside, but you had to hold back and focus on your mission. The other target walked up to you herself with a glass of wine in hand, you politely thanked her and engaged in a pleasant conversation. Signora danced with the Duke for some time before stopping as she was tired and started getting information out of him by trapping him in her words, she kept glancing at you every now and then and couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
The lady you were talking to was awfully touchy, it was clear as day she was flirting with you to get you in bed. Signora didn’t know why she felt this way, it was a strange feeling she never felt before. She wanted to walk up to you and take you away with her. Was this what people described to be jealousy? Was she actually feeling jealous looking at you with someone else? She noted how the lady ran her hands all over your body, feeling you up. The way she had you cornered against a wall and was covering your entire vision. She knew you wouldn’t act out of line, but she was also unaware of just how far you’d go for the mission.
What surprised her most was when she saw you walk out of the hall with the lady. So many questions ran through her mind now. Was this also part of your strategy? Were you still working for the mission? Did the lady seduce you to this extent that you’d go with her? And if you were so easy to sway, why say such heartwarming words to her and confuse her emotions? She couldn’t believe she felt this way over you now, what did suddenly happen that she had this unspeakable urge to have you? She decided to put her mind away from these thoughts and focus on her own side of the mission, this is what she was here for.
A lot of time passed when she finally pushed away the Duke from her after taking the required information and completing negotiations. She was exhausted now, she leaned against the wall and let out a sigh then picked up a glass of water while looking towards the door you had exited from. Within a few minutes, you finally came back all alone. The lady wasn’t with you, your appearance looked same as before. Your eyes met Signora’s and both of you nodded, indicating the successful mission completion then made your way out separately. You met up with her at the designated spot, happily going to her to congratulate her.
“Was everything okay, ma’am? He didn’t do anything to you, did he?” you asked with concern and checked her all over, ensuring her wellbeing.
She scanned you from head to toe as well and didn’t find anything amiss, she scoffed then turned around to walk towards the carriage and answered none of your questions.
“Mission report in the carriage.”
“Yes ma’am!”
You followed her and settled in the carriage together before it started moving. You sat on the seat in front of her and sense a strange aura around her, she refused to look at you and seemed angry but you figured she was just tired from the long night. You then started telling her what you found out from the lady, expecting some kind of input from her on the intel collected but she simply nodded and said nothing else. You knew something was definitely wrong now.
“Ma’am, are you okay? If you are feeling unwell then please tell me, I’ll bring over some medicine and anything else you need.”
“I’m fine.”
“O-Okay....”
You stayed silent for the rest of the way. You wondered if she was angry at you for defying orders, it took a lot of bravery for you to do something like that but you hoped for her to be pleased, but perhaps you took the wrong decision. The carriage reached her mansion after some time, you stepped out first and offered your hand to her as she got down. She stared at your stretched out hand and furrowed her brows then stepped out without holding your hand, you felt disheartened but tried to hide it and were about to bid her good night when she suddenly grabbed your hand and started pulling you with herself. You were confused and almost panicked, questioning her along the way but she shushed you with one gesture.
You had never been inside her mansion, this was the first time you stepped foot inside. But you were in no state to admire the house as she kept pulling you further inside, taking you upstairs and opening a door to a room. She pulled you inside the room and shut the door close then silently stood in front of you, her back turned to you while you leaned on the door and waited for her to say something. You had no idea what suddenly came over her. She wouldn’t act this way if she was angry at you for defying orders.
“....What did you do with her?” she mumbled under her breath, her words barely audible to you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that, ma’am. Could you please repeat?”
Signora clicked her tongue then turned around and sprinted up to you before harshly pinning you against the door, her hands planted on either side of your head while she stared at you with an expression you had never seen before on her face.
“What did you do with that woman? Did you have sex with her?!”
Your face flushed bright red, “No! Not at all, ma’am! I would never—!”
“Then where did you go for so long and what did you do?! Do you think I was blind to the way she was touching you and being all over you?! This is how you negotiate?!”
“N-No, ma’am! Please listen to me, I did nothing of that sort! We went to the restroom and I—”
“This is how your love is? You say all those silly promises to me, pursue me for so long, and then you get swayed by a woman you just met?!”
Your eyes widened at her words and the expression on her face, she was annoyed and in distress. You didn’t expect her to feel this way, you didn’t even realize she thought this. To see her being jealous was strangely adorable, and also foolish of her since she had nothing to worry about.
“Ma’am, please listen to me. We went to the restroom and I used the truth potion on her then tranquilized her. It took me time to hide her unconscious body, that’s all. I came back as soon as I was done.”
Signora finally calmed down a little hearing your truth, “Is that all? Nothing else happened?”
You smiled at her then gently held her hand, “I swear on my ‘Father’s’ life. What I told you is the absolute truth, no more no less. I could never do something so important with a random person like that.”
Signora took a deep breath then nodded. She pulled away her hands from the door and let you rest easy. You were feeling over the moon at this reaction from her, you tried to question her back but she suddenly held your jaw and before you knew it, her soft and moist lips were placed on your own. It was a serene feeling; your mind went blank for a moment and all you could feel was the sensation of her lips moving with yours. Her hand released your jaw and instead cupped your face, her body pressed into you as she continued kissing you. It was a slow and gentle kiss; her lips were warm and tasted like strawberry with a hint of wine. It was intoxicating, addicting. You slowly felt like melting into her.
She stopped and pulled away soon, leaving you with a sense of emptiness. You gazed at each other with uneven breaths, a needy and desperate expression on her face that you couldn’t look away from. It gave you a sense of wanting to please her, pleasure her, service her, make her happy in any way. She did not know but you had long known about her past, about the fact that she witnessed the cataclysm and lost everyone, especially her lover. You knew about her legacy as the Crimson Witch of Flames, you knew everything about her pain and sacrifice and why she was so dedicated to the Tsaritsa’s goal. But none of that was the reason why you loved her. You found out all of that much later.
“I...I love you, ma’am. I love you so much. Please, let me make you happy. I promise I will do anything in my ability to make you happy. I will always be there for you, I will always support you and love you.”
You earnestly confessed to her; this was your real confession. You couldn’t put it in better words. If she refused you now, you’d probably give up but still continue to support her. Signora softly smiled at you and caressed your face before kissing your cheek.
“Do you still want me to say my answer? Was my action earlier not enough?~”
You blushed, “W-Well, it just feels good to hear it as well...”
Signora softly chuckled then leaned closer, her lips ghosting yours and you had the urge to kiss her again.
“I love you too. I’m grateful to have you here with me, I will love you back just as much as you have loved me and even more.”
Your cheeks flushed red, finding the situation slightly unbelievable. But she didn’t let your mind wander as she pressed her lips to yours again, this time she didn’t hold back. It was a needy and passionate kiss, her tongue licked your lips and swirled with your own in a heated exchange. She pressed herself even closer to you, essentially squeezing you against the door while her lips relentlessly sought yours. You slowly placed your hands around her body and held her as you kissed, she lodged her knee against your crotch and you almost gasped in surprise.
You then felt her hands rub across your chest, sliding off your coat and kissing you harder. She released the kiss and instead planted kisses on your jaw and down your neck, unbuttoning your collar for more access. Her lips imprinted on your skin, red lipstick marks forming where they touched. You threw your head back with a soft moan, she continued marking you with her lips as if to claim you as her own. You then felt her teeth graze your skin before sinking down near your collarbone, a startled mewl leaving your lips and your hands clenching her dress.
“M-Ma’am, please let me touch you....~”
“Say my name, Rosalyne. And...” she leaned near your ear to whisper in a low and seductive tone, “....Do whatever you want to~”
If that didn’t fire you up enough to take down Celestia then nothing would. You pulled her closer her grabbed her thigh up, she instinctively wrapped her arms around your neck giving you the opportunity to grab her other thigh too and carry her in your arms. She chuckled against your lips while you walked towards the bed and laid her on the edge, she roughly kissed you as you slid off her cape then dropped to your knees between her legs. She smirked and parted her legs for you, you caressed the soft skin of her legs then planted kisses up her knee and thigh. Her body trembled and breaths rose, you looked like a devout follower worshipping a goddess, and she enjoyed every bit of this treatment.
You kissed her inner thighs and looked up at her as if asking for permission to go deeper. She grasped your head in response, fingers interlacing in your hair and a slight tug to pull you closer. You wasted no time and slipped off her underwear then dove in to her inviting cunt. She intently watched as you lapped her clit, biting her lower lip and tightening her grip in your hair. You pushed her legs further apart and lapped up her outer walls now, her body arched in ecstasy feeling your tongue pleasure her, soft moans echoing in the room that were music to your ears.
“Mhm.... faster.... m-more...~”
Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d actually get to do this with her, but you were going to give her the best experience possible. You wanted her to feel the greatest pleasure and happiness. You raised her legs and placed them on your shoulders as you pushed deeper, your tongue inserting inside her cunt and prodding her sensitive spots.
“Aaaah~ Yes.... right there~ Nghhh~!”
Her nails scratched your scalp as she grasped your hair tighter, your mouth wrapped around her core and sucked the bundle of nerves while your tongue scissored inside her.
“Look at me.... mmh.... eyes on me~”
She tilted your head up making your eyes meet. Her hooded eye gazed at your own hypnotized ones, an exchange of desire and hunger happening between you. She wrapped her legs around your head and caged you, her plush thighs squeezed your face as she body arched further with your ministrations.
“C-Close.... yes... keep doing that~ Aaah~ Right there!”
You braced yourself, your thumb circled her clit a few times and that did it for her. She threw her head back and came in your mouth with a loud moan, you drank up every drop of her essence while gazing at her as she released. The sight of her was incomparable, no scenery in the world could ever satisfy you this way. You parted from her cunt and felt your own erection straining against your pants, your shaft hard and throbbing to release. Rosalyne came down from her high and grabbed your collar to pull you up and rubbed her hand across your crotch, you flinched and buried your face in her neck making her chuckle and bite your earlobe.
“Hmm, is my darling eager to cum?~”
“Ngh... y-yes, please....”
“But have you earned it?~” she caressed the back of your head with her other hand, twirling your strands in her fingers.
You hissed as she pressed her hand into your crotch, “Mm, y-yes.... please....”
Her angelic voice flew in your ear making you even harder, your cock twitched against her palm and she licked her lips before grasping your hair and tugging your head back. She bit your lip then proceeded to unbuckle your pants, dropping them down with your underwear. You kicked away your undergarments as your cock stood up at full mast in front of her eyes. She wrapped her hand around your length and began to pump, intently watching as pre-cum gathered on your tip.
“Hmm, quite an impressive length and....girth~”
She slid her finger across the prominent vein on your shaft, caressing it from the base to the head then gathering the pre-cum on her thumb and spreading it across. You moaned from her movements, it was clear she wanted to take her time and tease you, all just to make you more needy for her. You were barely holding on from the way her hand rubbed, she then retracted her hand just as you were about to burst. You looked at her with a pleading look and she smirked then climbed on the bed more, discarding the rest of her clothes and presenting her naked body to you.
“Come in, I can’t wait anymore~”
Oh, how could you hold back after hearing that? You lunged forward enthusiastically, coming on top of her and rubbing your tip across her slit. Her juices and your own pre-cum mixed together, both of you softly moaning from the sensations. She wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you as she laid down then connected your lips in a rough kiss, her ample breasts pressed against yours and you really felt like you were dreaming. You were surprised how eager she was for this right away, but you were going to give her anything she wanted.
“Aaah~ Come on, put it in.... ravage me~”
She moaned against your lips and you wasted no time to push your cock inside her. You aligned your shaft and slowly thrusted in then pushed all the way and sheathed inside, her warm and tight walls enveloped you as you moaned together at the penetration.
“S-So warm.... too warm....” you grunted.
“I-It’s my body.... mmh.... I’ll try to adjust....”
“It’s fine... aah~ It feels good....”
You had a hunch as to why her body was abnormally warm from the inside, but you really didn’t mind and it wasn’t unbearable.
“M-Move, Y/n... My love... move already~”
Did you hear that right? She really just called you that? Now you were even more motivated to pleasure her. You parted her legs more and adjusted them on your shoulders before beginning to thrust forward, she moaned and clenched the bedsheets as your bodies rocked together. Her breasts bounced in front of your eyes, you grabbed the mounds of flesh and squeezed them while continuing to thrust. Your dick rammed all the way inside, it didn’t feel as hot as before but her walls became tighter by the minute. She was clenching your cock as if to keep it inside forever and never let go.
“Aaah~ Aaah~ Y/n! So good! Aaaahn! More! Faster.... harder!~”
“You are so hot.... so pretty.... Rosa...!~”
The nickname was endearing to her. Her walls suddenly tightened around you causing you to groan and thrust more, practically pounding into her. Your thighs slapped against her hips, her moans and sounds of skin slapping ringing in your ears. The sight of her pleasured face, breasts bouncing and your cock lodged inside her- everything aroused you to no end, you could keep at this forever if she wanted.
“I love you... I love you so much, Rosalyne...” you moaned while gazing into her eyes, her heart skipped a beat once again tonight. How long had it been that somebody loved her this way? How long had she been yearning to hear these words?
She had forgotten the time now, but she wasn’t going to forget you and this moment that you gave her. Her hands held your shoulders and pulled you down into a loving embrace, her legs locking around your waist and caging you within so you won’t pull out. She moaned dirty words in your ear, the kind of words you’d never expect to hear from her in day-to-day life, her hands clenched your back and nails scratched down your skin as you drilled fast and hard into her.
“C-Cumming... I can’t hold on more.... let me pull out—ngh!~”
“No... inside... do it, aaahn~!”
You wanted to so badly, even though you were aware she likely couldn’t conceive. You just wanted your seed to be inside her, and it seems she wanted the same thing. You buried your face in her neck and kept pounding, she felt your dick twitch and finally a stream of hot liquid sprayed across her walls and filled her up. You groaned as you came deep inside her, she moaned as she also released and clenched your cock tightly, milking you of every last drop. Your cum kept pouring inside as if you had stored gallons worth, some of it dripping out from her. You panted out and rested on top of her body but your dick was still hard.
“T-That was amazing.... haah...~” you said while sweating and placed light kisses on her neck.
All of a sudden, your body was flipped over and the ceiling was in your vision before being overtaken by your lover’s face. Signora straddled you, still breathing heavily while gazing at you. Her hands cupped your face as she leaned down to passionately kiss you, your cock rubbed against her ass and she grinded back n forth on your lap. She released the kiss and stood up on her knees then held your cock up and aligned it to her slit, you eagerly watched as your cock split her open and the moment you connected with her.
The warm and tight feeling engulfed your cock once again, while your hard shaft scraped her insides in all the right ways. You both could become addicted to each other at this rate, but perhaps that was fine. She placed her hands on each side of your head and started bouncing up and down while her gaze was fixated on you, her face contracted to pure pleasure and ecstasy as her voice cried out with the way you penetrated her deepest spots. Her hips slapped against your thighs heavily, you were sure the sounds of your lovemaking could be audible in the whole mansion.
“P-Promise me... Y/n....” She suddenly spoke and clenched your jaw.
“You mean everything you said... promise me you won’t leave me....aahn~ Promise me you’ll always be here— hngh~ Promise me you’ll love me forever.... I won’t forgive you...mmh~ I won’t forgive you if you break any of them— Aaah!~”
A loud moan was pushed from her throat as you suddenly thrusted up into her and caught her off guard, she leaned forward on you and hugged your tight as both of you coordinated your movements.
“I promise....aaah....I promise....you don’t have to worry....I know everything about your life, your fear.... I won’t be like him.... I will always choose you....ngh!~”
Rosalyne’s eye widened hearing that, but somehow that’s exactly what she wanted to hear. You then sat up while holding her and rutted into her more, she held onto your shoulders and grinded back n forth too while gazing into your eyes. You pulled her in for a passionate kiss, your bodies convulsing as you rutted a few more times before cumming once again. She moaned and threw her body in a beautiful arch, your arms holding her as you bucked your hips and pulled her into you to fill her up.
She held your head close to her chest as your cum filled her up, both of you breathing heavily from the intense orgasms. She smiled in satisfaction and kissed your forehead then embraced you affectionately, she was glad she gave love another chance. She was going to do things right this time and love you to her heart’s content, just like you did all these years.
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lesbianpepsi · 10 months
Text
my love, my life
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: jenna ortega x autistic!fem!reader
summary: Jenna was the rock you never knew you needed in your life
link to request
words: 4.007k (im sorry)
warnings: verbally abusive parents, ableism, ableist remarks, r parents are dicks, r has a meltdown, swearing, bad writing
authors note: if i got anything wrong please correct me in a respectful and kind way please, other than that i hope you enjoy this:)
You were the one who begged your parents to allow you to start acting at such a young age, being utterly fixated on the world of acting after seeing Spider-Man for the first time.
In the beginning your parents didn't like the idea of you becoming a child actor, especially after what they heard from a myriad of news sources of how troubled child actors became when they reached their teens.
But after a lot of pleading they reluctantly allowed you to audition for anything that came up. 
You were the young age of six when you got your first real role, it was for a random soup company commercial, it was nothing major but it was something. 
Acting brought you a large sense of comfort, already knowing what was going to happen as you memorised your lines in a blink of an eye. 
You always had a struggle with portraying emotions but eventually you got the hang of it and became much better.
At eight years old you got your first big break; the role of a little sister's killer. The role of Jill Roberts' little sister in Scream Four. 
You blew up. 
At first you weren't a fan of all the attention and even got quite upset over it, the large change of attention by strangers on the street scaring you. 
Your parents on the other hand were absolutely thrilled and began auditioning you for many other movies and tv shows. 
You weren't properly diagnosed with autism till the age of fourteen; long after you had become a child actor. You were shocked but found comfort in that information, it was as if you finally found out the answer to longing question. 
Your parents on the other hand did not believe the doctors when they diagnosed you with autism, refusing to believe the fact and that you were just simply dramatic. 
As your fame grew, your stress and anxiety only did too. It got to the point where you could barely get through an interview before going completely non-verbal for a few days. 
Your parents called you dramatic since you could act in front of cameras but couldn't answer simple questions in front of a few people with flashing cameras.
You defended yourself that it wasn't the same, it never was. You didn't know what was going to happen in those interviews, while you knew everything when acting. 
As the years passed you became even quieter and couldn't attend almost any interview or premier. You stopped auditioning for movies and shows when you were sixteen, deciding to take a two year break of acting. 
Your parents were enraged by that fact and barely interacted with you, leaving you alone in one small house as they bought another large one for themselves with your money. 
You didn't care, as long as you were alone you were happy.
A few days after your eighteenth birthday you received a call, asking if you were willing to come back to play an old role.
Maxine "Max" Roberts, the younger sister of Jill Roberts. 
In the beginning you were reluctant but after a few days of thinking you accepted the role. 
Without a doubt, that was the best decision of your entire life, career wise aside. 
In the set of Scream Five you reconnected with old friends such as Neve Campbell, Courtney Cox and even David Arquette officially as grown adult and no longer a child.
You also managed to make long life friends such as Mikey Madison, Mason Gooding, Dylan Minnette, Jack Quaid and you even meet your favourite youtuber James A. Janisse who made a small cameo in the movie. 
But the person you met on the Scream Five set that changed your life was the actress who played Tara Carpenter; the first Scream character to survive an opening kill. 
Jenna Ortega. 
You and Jenna instantly connected, a feeling you had never felt in your entire lifetime. Jenna understood you better than your own parents, even treating you better than them. 
Before Scream Five was even wrapped you and Jenna began dating; both of you absolutely head over heels for each other.
Jenna helped you tremendously throughout the process after Scream Five was released, helping you in interviews if you got nervous and felt your throat tightening up. Helping you in any premier by always holding your hand if you wanted to squeeze hers if you got too angsty.
She did so much more than your parents ever did. It wasn't a wonder why you hadn't had a proper conversation with them since you were sixteen. 
You were fine with that fact; you didn't need them anymore. You had Jenna. 
—————
"So, I was thinking of some mac 'n cheese for dinner?" Jenna suggested once the credits of 'The Amazing Spider-Man' began playing throughout yours and Jenna's small living room. 
You grinned happily at her as you tapped your finger along with the music that played with the credits. "Well if you're offering of course."
Jenna scrunched her nose adorably as she smiled at you, leaning closer to give you a quick peck on the forehead as she stood up. "I'm presuming you watch the end credit scene?" She asked you as she leaned against the doorway of the kitchen.
You nodded your head as your eyes remained fixated on the screen. "You presume correctly, my love."
"As always, my life." Jenna replied, finishing off your nickname with a small laugh as she entered the kitchen. 
It was a silly joke that started when Jenna found out your all time favourite band was Abba. She had made it her life goal to memorise each of your favourite songs; one of those songs being 'My love, My life'.
You smiled to yourself as you unconsciously played with the bottom of the graphic Spiderman shirt Jenna gave you for your birthday months ago. The material of the shirt was your favourite and didn't irritate you like many other fabrics did. 
After a few minutes passed the end credit scene began playing as the smell of mac 'n cheese started to infiltrate your nose, your smile softened. 
Mumbling the lines along with the characters you were interrupted when three knocks were at the door.
You ignored the fact it was an awkward number as you headed towards the door, confused as to who it could be. 
Maybe it was one of Jenna's siblings you guessed, but as you unlocked the door your jaw dropped as you saw who was standing behind the door with crooked smiles.
"Mother? Father?" You asked bewildered as you stared at them with wide eyes, you hadn't seen them in years. 
Your mother smiled sweetly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she took a step closer to you with open arms, to which you took a step back at. 
"Y/n, honey, it's been so long." Your mother cooed as she lowered her arms, a small look of hurt in her eyes at your rejection at touch. 
"Four years. It's been four years." You confirm with a deadpan look as you looked at them, they still looked pretty much the same since you last saw them. "Why're you two here?" You asked them rather bluntly, your eyes narrowing questioningly on your father who didn't have the sweet smile your mother had on her face. 
"Is it so wrong for parents to come visit their only daughter? We've missed you so much after all these years." She said as she wrapped an arm around your fathers bicep, leaning into him. Your fathers jaw clenched momentarily as he nodded his head stiffly. "We've missed you so much, rabbit." Your father mumbled out in a gruff tone of voice.
A smile grazed your lips at the nickname your father used to call you when growing up, there was no backstory to it, it was a simple name he had called you for years.
At the nostalgic name you couldn't help to lower your guard as you gave them a genuine smile, to which your parents actually smiled back at you. 
"Y/n?" Jenna's voice broke you off your trance as you snapped your head to the side, Jenna rounding the corner with her hair now in a messy bun.   
Before you could get a word out you heard your mother gasp as she freed your father from her grip, a look of admiration in her eyes as she looked at your girlfriend.
"And you're our Y/n's girlfriend, we've heard so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you." She interrupted, extending her hand out to shake Jenna's.
Jenna glanced at you with a questioning look, you shrugged your shoulders weakly at her look. She sighed as her movie star smile appeared on her face, turning back to face your mother.
"Likewise." She says as she connects her hand with your mothers.
As your mother chatted Jenna's ears off you turned your attention back to your father who was still standing awkwardly in the doorway. 
Your father must've felt eyes on him as he slowly flickered his eyes away from your mothers figure to your eyes, his eyes still as cold as you remembered.
He coughed dryly as he took a singular step towards you, a tight lipped smile on her face as he looked down at you. 
"It's nice to see you again, peanut." He whispered to you, your heart melted at his words. Has your father actually changed? It sure sounded like it. 
"It's nice to see you too, father." You replied back with a whisper, a small smile toyed on your lips. He grinned as he nodded curtly at you before he focused back on your mother.
"Is it alright if we stayed for dinner? It's just we haven't seen our Y/n in such a long time." You heard your mother plead to Jenna, her voice bordering into desperation. 
Jenna's beautiful brown eyes flickered over to you, silently asking you if you were okay with you, you nodded your head. 
She let out a small breath as she nodded her own head, returning to meet your mothers eyes.
"Of course, I hope you don't mind mac 'n cheese." Jenna joked as she took a few steps back, your mother following hot on her trail.
You and your father follow them as you close the front door. Your father turned to look at you as he walked over to the dining table. "You're still obsessed with that?" He asked with what sounded like curiosity to you, meanwhile Jenna's head had snapped back to where you and your father stood at his tone of words which did not sound like it was full of curiosity.
You nodded your head oblivious as you pulled out a chair for him. "Yes I do, it's been my comfort meal for years. I'm surprised you even remembered that." 
He scoffed as he glanced back at you, sitting down in the seat. "I wish I didn't." He grumbled under his breath, thankfully you didn't hear his words as you headed over to the kitchen where your mother and Jenna were at.
Jenna was slowly stirring the pot full of mac 'n cheese as your mother chatted her ear off, a look of fake interest on Jenna's face.
"Do you need help with anything, Jen?" You asked her, interrupting your mother as you moved to stand next to her. She smiled softly at you as she nodded her head. "Could you get the cutlery and bowls out for me please?" You nodded your head as you immediately went to do what she asked for.
Thankfully, your mother left the kitchen as she went to sit down next to your father, whispering to him as their eyes glanced over the apartment.
You grabbed four bowls off of the top shelf with ease as you heard Jenna's hushed voice. 
"Hey," She began, you turned to look at her as you neatly placed the bowls on the counter. "you sure you're okay with them being here?" She finished off in a whisper as she gazed into your eyes. 
You nodded your head as you glanced back at your parents whispering to each other, smiling before you turned to look back at your girlfriend. 
"I'm okay with them being here, really unexpected which annoys me but I haven't seen them in so long." Your tone became even more hushed as you leaned closer to Jenna. "Dad even remembered my nickname and the food I like, that must mean something, right?" 
Jenna sighed as she nodded her head weakly, smiling as weakly as she placed a comforting hand on top of yours. "Okay, if you want them here then they can stay. But the moment you feel like you don't want them here just tell me okay?" 
You nod your head understanding. "Okay, I will, thank you." Jenna gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before she turned back to her pot of mac 'n cheese. 
After a few minutes passed you, Jenna and your parents were seated at your dining table as you all ate your food.
You were sitting in your favourite seat as Jenna sat next to you, your father across from you as your mother sat across from Jenna.
You were eagerly eating your food with a smile on your face, a sense of warmth and comfort hitting you as you ate your food.
"This is really good, Jen, thank you." Jenna's smile managed to make you feel even more at peace. 
"So, Y/n, you got any new movies or shows coming up?" Your mother asked you with intrigue as she slowly ate her food. 
You shook your head as you took another spoonful. "No but I was in the latest Spider-Man movie. It was so cool! I thought I would never be given a chance to be in a Spider-Man movie but I was offered a small role. I even got to design my own Spider-Man character and how she was and -oh my god I even-"
"Lower your voice, Y/n." Your father snapped as he played with his food. "We're not in another room, we're right next to you."
You frowned as you stopped talking immediately, looking down at your half empty bowl embarrassed. "Sorry, father." You said in a voice that you made sure it was quieter than before. 
"And what, baby?" Jenna asked with an encouraging smile on her face, her eyes focused on you and only you. 
You picked up your head as you smiled sheepishly at her. "And I got to meet Daniel Kaluuya who's one of my favourite actors." 
Your father sighed dramatically as he shook his head as he pushed his food around the bowl, he hadn't taken a singular bite of the food.
"How much longer do we have to stay here?" He whispered to your mother in a tone what he thought was low enough, but you and Jenna heard him clearly.
Your eyebrows furrowed together as you loosened your grip on your spoon. "Oh, do you have somewhere else to be?" You asked him sincerely.
He scoffed as he shook his head in disbelief. "Your attitude is still as horrible as I see." 
What? 
"I don't understand. I was asking you a question. How was that giving you attitude?" You asked him again, straightening your posture as you desperately searched for Jenna's hand from under the table.
She quickly interlocked your fingers together, her thumb expertly rubbing softly at your skin in an attempt to soothe you.
Your father dismissed you as he turned to look at his wife, a look of annoyance clear on his face. "Ask her. I'm not staying here much longer with that here." He demanded in a hushed whisper.
A deep frown slowly appeared on your face as you stared between your parents, an uneasy feeling started to grow in your stomach.
"What's he talking about, mother?" She sighed at your words, dropping her spoon into the bowl as she leaned against her hands.
"We need to ask a favour from you, honey." Your throat felt tighter as you swallowed dryly, your grip on Jenna's hand tightened.
"What favour?" You asked her, your eyes flickered back to your father who wasn't even looking at you. Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest at the sight.
"Well your father and I have been going through some things lately, and it hasn't been fun. It's been especially hard on your dad." The older woman sighed as she closed her eyes momentarily before she reopened them, her eyes teary as she looked into your eyes. "As your parents, we only ask you one favour, Y/n. We raised you and no parent wants to come grovelling to their own flesh and blood for help."
You stayed silent as you listened to her words, your anxiety was starting to increase at a speed that you hadn't felt in years.
"We need to borrow some money." She finally confessed with a pleading gleam in her eyes. "It's the only thing we've ever asked of you, my sweet child. Please, for your mom and dad." 
You should've known they hadn't changed, you should've known. 
As you stared into your parents eyes you swallowed dryly as you slowly opened your mouth.
"No." You whispered out.
"No?" He repeated in a mocking tone. "No? Are you serious? After all we've done for you?"
Your frown deepened as you averted his piercing gaze, looking down in your lap as you unconsciously started to rub your feet against each other.
"We could've given your spastic ass up for adoption but we didn't. And this is how you repay us? What a wonderful fucking daughter we have." 
You shook your head weakly as your movement with your feet started to become more erratic. 
"Get out of our house, right now." Jenna said coldly, trying to keep her temper under control as she didn't want to yell like your father was doing.
A sniffle was heard from your mother as she wiped the tears from her eyes with a tissue. "My own daughter is betraying her only parents." She mumbled to herself.
It was if your heart was in your throat, the feeling as if it was tightening making you shake your head more violently.
"You see what you're doing, you freak, making your own mother cry." Your father pushed as he stood up, banging his fist against the table loudly. 
You flinched at the noise as you shut your eyes tightly, letting go of Jenna's hand as you wrapped your arms around yourself.  
Jenna stood up as you let go of her hand, glaring heavily at your father. "I'm going to ask you again, leave our home and never return or I'll call the cops." She spat out slowly, her voice full of venom. 
"You know what, Miss America, we'll do exactly that. Who would even want that as a child?" He laughed as if it was a joke as he held his wife's sobbing hand. "You're not my child, Y/n. Nobody would even want a reta-"
"Don't you fucking dare finish that sentence." Jenna interrupted the man's words, fury in her eyes as she rounded the table. "You should be ashamed of yourselves, you two are a joke. Get out of our house right now." 
Your father scoffed as he helped pull up his wife from her chair, tightening his hand in hers. 
You weren't looking at them as you kept shaking your head, your eyes shut tightly as you mumbled incoherent words to yourself. The tightening in your throat becoming unbearable.
You heard your father and Jenna argue lowly but you couldn't hear anything they said as your fathers previous words plagued your thoughts loudly.
A wave of unshed tears were piling up behind your shut eyes as you slid off the wooden chair to sit down against the wall, shaking uncontrollably as you shook your head violently. 
Maybe he was right, maybe you were just an unloveable creature.
Behind closed eyes you could notice the room darken, with a shaky gasp you opened your eyes, a flood of tears escaping immediately.
Through the thick tears you could see Jenna crouched down a few feet in front of you, the room itself was darkened as the main light was switched off. The only light remaining in the room was the corner lamp.
"Y/n, can I hold you?" Jenna's disoriented voice asked you, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.
Your fathers cruel words voiced themselves in your mind at your body's rejection of speaking. A sob racked through your body as you desperately nodded your head. Instantaneously the moment you nodded your head Jenna moved to wrap her arms around you, allowing you to lean all your weight into her.
Silent sobs erupted from your body as you clung to Jenna for dear life, hiding your face in the crook of her neck as your arms were wrapped around her tightly. 
"It's okay, it's just you and me, nobody else." She cooed into your ear as she gently rocked you back and forth. You could feel one of her hands rubbing affectionately against your back as she shushed you.
You don't know how long you stayed like that for; In Jenna's protective hold as she rocked you back and forth as you sobbed. 
Eventually as your breathing calmed down and your sobs dying down, Jenna slowed down her rocking but she kept rubbing at your back with her soft palm. 
"You feel a bit better?" She whispered into the dark room, not wanting to startle you with a loud voice. 
You nodded your head mutely as you sniffled, your face still hidden in the crook of her neck.
"You know what they said wasn't true, right?" Jenna softly asked as her hand soothed you. You didn't move as you struggled to swallow, knowing if you nodded your head you would be lying. 
Weakly, you shrugged your shoulders at her words, your fathers words still plagued your mind.
"What they said was absolute nonsense, Y/n, you're none of the things they called you." She reassured you, her voice so soft that if someone was in the kitchen they wouldn't have heard her. "I promise you I'll never let anyone say anything like that to you again, because what they said was lies."
You nodded your head as Jenna rocked you carefully, your breathing calming down. 
"I love you, Y/n, never forget that. I love everything about you, everything." Jenna whispered again as she pressed a feather light kiss to the top of your head. "I wouldn't want you any other way, you're perfect just the way you are, and I love you so much." 
Once again you attempted to speak but nothing except a strangled gasp of air came out, you shut your eyes back immediately as embarrassment coursed through your veins.
"Hey, hey, take your time, you don't have to force yourself to talk, okay? Going non-verbal is perfectly okay." Jenna cooed instantly as she rubbed at your back with a stronger force, you relished in the feeling as you nodded your head.
"Do you want me to reheat your dinner so we can watch the second Amazing Spider-Man movie while we eat it?" Jenna offered you in a gentle voice, she had slowed down on the rocking as you calmed down. 
Mutely, you nodded your head with more eagerness than before. Jenna smiled in relief as she nodded her own head. 
"Okay, I'll go reheat it and you can put the movie on for us. How does that sound?" She said, you pulled away from her as you smiled weakly, nodding your head. Jenna's own smile grew as she nodded her head along with you.
You were still weren’t sure whether your fathers words were true or not, but one thing you were positive of was that Jenna was the best girlfriend.
Jenna will always be your rock as she will always be the love of your life.
955 notes · View notes
norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
Rumors
Pairing: Single Dad!Alonso x Nanny!Reader
Rating: PG-17
Words: 3.3K
Warnings: Age gap, single parents, reader is pregnant, history of one night stand, alonso doesn’t know, reader being shamed by elders, insecurities, Fernando as a dad is fucking golden, overprotective!Fernando, Angst, Fluff, etc.
Requested: Yes/No
Request: Please do one with Alonso where he tell the reader he want’s kids & also some age drifference
A/N: I kinda changed this request a lot but I hope you love it, just needed more plot and ran with it 🩷 also credit to @pg10version for helping me through my writers block
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Listen....you didn't mean to sleep with your boss. All you needed was to be the nanny to his little girl Alejandra, not warm her father's bed. You knew people talked when they saw you out and about with them. Pointing and staring, but saying anything to your boss's face. Who would? 
He was one of the pride and joys of Spain. A two-time World Champion. They talked due to the age difference and how you were probably warming his bed every night. They were right. But had no right to talk about you that way. You hadn't even told him yet. Falling pregnant was not in the plan, yet you are, sunbathing by the pool while Alejandra naps. Pushing your sunglasses down, you check the baby monitor and see Alejandra sprawled across the bed, her bunny stuffy beside her. 
You bought her that stuffy when you first met. Her mother wasn't in the picture, having left them when she was young. It's been 5 years since you were hired, and you and the toddler grew close; her father was pleased with the relationship you two formed. 
Speaking of her father, your phone chimes, alerting you to the central gate opening to the driveway. An emerald green Aston Martin rolls up. Turning your phone down, you close your eyes, soaking in the sun. A deep rumble of a growl has you turning your head toward the sound. Next to you lay your favorite companion. A gorgeous black and tan Spanish Mastiff named Hades. 
Your boss didn't like leaving his two girls home alone, so he bought the dog as a puppy, training it to be a guard dog. Hades was loyal to you, Alejandra, and her father. Though he was gone for a while, it took Hades half a day to relax around the stranger. Hades jump up, his growl getting more profound as he stands in front of your lounger. 
About 4 months ago, Hades refused to leave your side, even snapping his jaws at your boss when he got too close. It was 3 months later you found out you were pregnant. Hades was protecting you, having known before anyone else. 
"Hades, down." A soft tone has the dog lying down but still in front of you as you move, grabbing the tan lotion to touch on some areas. Untying your top, you let it fall and rub lotion everywhere so you don't burn. "Bunny, I'm home." A voice causes your head to whip to the monitor, sighing when you see Alejandra's father. 
He slowly leaves the room, letting you relax as you lay back down, rubbing the lotion over your small bump. It wasn't crazily noticeable. It was tiny as you hadn't popped yet like most people said they did, so it was easy for you to lie and say it was bloating. 
Hades barks, letting you know that someone stepped outside. You don't worry, though, knowing damn well who it is, has Hades bark turns to a playful one. "Trying to tease me, cariño?" You open your eyes gently, letting them adjust to the sunlight. 
Before you, a silhouette of your boss as you smile shyly at Fernando Alonso. "Not teasing, don't want tan lines." You mumble, closing your eyes again; Fernando lifts your feet up as he sits at the end of the lounger, placing them on his lap. 
"Hm, I was in town today. Isabel says she hasn't seen you with Alejandra in a while." You moan when the pad of Fernando's thumbs digs into your feet. "All those old bats do is point and whisper." You grumble, a hand protectively covering your bump, but Fernando thinks it's you resting your hand on your stomach. "Cariño, ignore them. Who cares what they say." He sighs, rubbing his forehead. 
You sit up fast, ripping off your sunglasses as you glare at the older man. "I care what they say. I care when they point at Allie and whisper how her nanny is a dirty money hungry whore. I care when they point at my stomach and say, "Yes, she is a whore, fucking the dad." I refuse to go down to town when all they do is speak fucking trash. Especially about Alejandra." Fernando stares at you.  
His gaze is dark and hungry as he watches the woman before him turn protective over their tiny family.....god she was gorgeous. 
You whimper into the kiss but pull away, groaning when Fernando traps your bottom lip in his teeth, sucking on it. "Nando, stop." He pulls away, always priding himself on control. He always stopped when you said so. "Did I hurt you?" Worry replaces that fire as he looks over you. 
"I'm fine, but.....really," You bite your lip, unsure how to voice your thoughts. "Mi cielo," He grabs your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. "You know you can tell me anything. Need, feel, want, tell me it all." He whispers, switching his position to straddle the lounger and tugging you between his legs. "What am I to you? Alejandra's nanny? Something young and fun to screw?" You ask, hiding your face in his chest. Breathing in the soft touch of woodsy scotch and orange. 
It's your favorite scent. You loved wearing Fernando's clothes and sleeping in his bed. It comforted you in a way you love and hate. "Y/n," Fernando sighs, heartbreaking at the thought of you keeping this all bent up inside. "We're whatever you want us to be. I want you to stay here and raise Alejandra together." He grumbles, fingers tracing patterns on your sunkissed skin. 
"No labels? Just us?" You ask, getting a nod from Fernando. You lean back, thinking of kissing him, but stop hearing a soft voice calling for you. "Mama." It's a slight whimper that's got grabbing your cover, tying it, and bolting to Alejandra's voice. Standing, Hades jumps up, runs over to his toys, and returns with his favorite tennis ball. "I bought you to protect you, big softy." Fernando groans, grabbing the ball and throwing it into the pool. Hades barks and rushes the pool going after his ball. Fernando laughs at the giant dog, acting like a puppy. 
He repeats this a couple times, his attention pulled when he hears the sweet voice of his baby girl. "Papa! Estás en casa!" (You're home) Alejandra giggles. You sit the girl down as she almost falls out of your hold, wiggling around so much. "Estoy en casa, dulce ángel." (I'm home, sweet angel) 
Fernando crouches down, losing his balance, when Alejandra runs full force into her father's chest, her sweet giggles mixed with his deep ones. You stand by the door and watch the scene, touching your belly, unable to wait for the day when you can watch both your children in his arms. 
"Mama, come play!" Alejandra giggles, reaching out for you. Smiling, you run over and scoop her out, her giggles filling the air. "Alejandra, go show your Papa what you learned at swim lessons yesterday." You praise the little girl running to the pool, Fernando behind her, scared she'll get hurt. 
Moving, you grab your top and quickly throw it back on and then your cover as you turn, watching her dunk her face in the water, her little pink floaties holding her up. She comes back up smiling with her little teeth, proud that she dips her face in the water without screaming. Fernando stands in the pool. His skin is slick and glowing in the sun, his tattoo flexing when he moves. 
"Mi pequeño pez! Look at you! I'm so proud of you." (my little fish)His hands wrap around her tiny body, pulling her into his chest and kissing her face. You watch the two enjoy the moment. Sitting on the pool's edge, you dip your feet in the water. "Mama! Can I have ice cream?" Lifting your sunglasses up, you feel tiny hands on your ankles. Legs around her, you lift her out of the water, her messy curls sticking all over her. 
"Of course, darling, ask Ms. Basque for some baby." Fernando comes up behind and lifts her out of the water, watching her little legs run into the house. "Come in the water." Fernando mummers, hooking your legs on his shoulder. Squirming slightly, you try to control the dirty thoughts running their course. 
"What are you thinking, my little tease?" He hums, moving farther up your legs before resting very close to where you can feel your heartbeat. "Stop. Alejandra will be back soon." You smack his forehead, yet he doesn't flinch, only smirks. "Little tease, better be careful with those thoughts. I can see them in your eyes." Mummering the last part, he leans in, breathing, quicking. You close your eyes, ready to let him, only for Alejandra to run out with Ms. Basque behind. 
"Fuck." You shove Fernando away and stand, catching little Alejandra as she holds his ice cream sandwich. "Mama, what was Papa doing?" Fernando glares at the little girl, but it contains no anger as you walk away from the Spaniard. "Nothing, my Pescado; Papa is just goofing around." You glare at the older man as he leaves the pool drying off while Ms. Basque whispers something. 
"Ella es muy joven para ti. Actuar como una puta." (She's to young for you. Acting like a whore) You cover Alejandra's ears as you walk past Ms. Basque. It was no secret that the older woman didn't like you as she had been with the family long before Fernando and his ex divorced and had Alejandra. 
You only stay short to hear what Fernando says, going to the kitchen as Alejandra eats her ice cream and talking about her upcoming swim lessons in cute broken words. "Mama, hungry." She whines from her high chair. "I know, little fish, but I'm sure what your Papa wants to do for dinner." Head buried in the fridge, you don't hear Fernando's feet pad into the kitchen. 
"How about we go out, hm? To that sweet little restaurant that you love so much." Standing up fast, you bang your head, letting out curses in your mother tongue, a sound of distress leaving the little girl's mouth, a large hand cradling your head. "Little tease? Are you okay?" Fernando worries over you, smiling; you nod. 
"Are you sure going to town is smart?" Closing the fridge and putting some distance between you two, hating it, though. Ever since you became pregnant, your body craved Fernando's in every possible way. Not telling him was killing you. Yet people like Ms. Basque were proving your doubts right. "Of course, Alejandra is hungry, and I figured we could go out and enjoy ourselves. Especially since you haven't been in town for a while." Fernando smiles, kissing your cheek and grabbing Alejandra. 
"Come on, my little fish, let's get you dressed, then Mama can do your hair." He whispers, kissing her cheek. You head to your bedroom and browse your clothes, trying to pick something where it doesn't shape your little bump. 
You pick a dress, it's a pretty soft white sundress with little flowers stitched on it, it's a flowy thing that doesn't hug your body so it was perfect. You match it with gold jewelry that isn't bulky, just light, and adds the perfect touch. Some black flats, and you're ready to go check on Fernando and Alejandra. 
"Papa? Ms.Basque says not to call Mama, Mama? Why?" You stop, not pushing open the door like you were going to, but Alejandra's sweet voice has you stopping. "Ignore her, my little fish; you can call Mama that if you want." Fernando sighs, pulling up her little white pants. "She says, Mama, not Mama." She whispers, thumb stuffed in her mouth. 
"Alejandra, stop. She's your mother." He softens his voice, having never snapped at his baby before. "Then why don't you sleep in the same bed? I thought Mama and Papa sleep together?" Alejandra asks, hitting that stage where she questions everything. "Alejandra, stop asking. What goes on between Mama and me is between us. Now, let's get Mama to do your hair as you like." He groans. You liked to tease him that whenever he got off the floor and complained, it was because he was getting old. 
"Alejandra? Nando?" You ask, pushing the door open; two pairs of the same eyes stare at you. "Mama! We match!" The little girl smiles, pointing at your dress and her dress shirt. It's black with little flowers, and her white pants and little velcro flats make you smile. "Now, Papa needs to match with us." She giggles. Fernando shakes his head and brushes past you, subtly grabbing your ass. 
Blushing, you shake your head when you hear his laughter down the hall. Sitting down, you pull Alejandra into your lap and do her hair. Combing it out tangles, you take care of her curls and let them dry out, pulling the top half of her hair up and tying it. Leaving the bottom half down, she loved her hair like this. 
Finished, you carry downstairs to where Fernando stands in nice dress pants, shoes, and a white shirt with a flower itched into his collar, making you smile that he matched subtly. "Ready, my loves?" He asks, swinging his SVU car keys on his finger. 
"Papa, flower!" Alejandra leans in your arms, touching the flower on Fernando's collar; the older man smiles and kisses her little hand. She giggles, feeling the scruff of his chin tickle her. "You should grow it out a little bit." Fingers brushing his chin, he smiles and leans into your touch. "Maybe." He teases, opening the back door to the SVU. 
He watches you buckle his daughter in the car, both of you laughing as you strap her in. His hand finds the lower portion of your back, leading you around the back of the vehicle, stopping you when you hit the blind spot. 
"What?" You ask, thinking something is wrong, but he smiles and kisses you gently. When he pulls back, you're smiling, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth your eyes flutter open. "What was that for?" His ears strained to hear the faint whisper of your voice. "Nothing just wanted to kiss my little tease." He mummers, moving your baby hairs out of your face. 
He walks you around the car, opens your door, and helps you get into the car, making sure you're secured. Closes the door smiles to himself, and walks to the driver's side. Jumping in, he starts the car. The ride is filled with ISpy and silly games like that with Alejandra, who occasionally whines about how hungry she is. 
Pulling up to the restaurant, he parks and rushes to your side to help you, then gets Alejandra. "Papa, carry!" Holding her arms up, Fernando chuckles and picks her up while holding your hand, strolling to the front door. "Welcome, Mr. Alonso." Someone says, leading you to your table. 
Looking around, it's a gorgeous place, open aired with plants and fairy lights everywhere. Music was playing from a live band, but it wasn't overpowering, just enough you could still talk. Sitting at your table, you ensure Alejandra is settled before taking your place next to Fernando. 
He smirks and places an arm around your waist, pulling you close; you hold your breath, hoping he doesn't touch your bump, which he doesn't, his fingers staying on your hip, rubbing calm circles. 
"I forgot to tell you," He whispers, making you shiver at his breath, tickling your ear. "How fucking gorgeous you look." You blush, a string of giggles leaving your mouth. Fernando doesn't stop there, whispering soft things in your ear, making you laugh and giggle. 
You look up, giggles clamped down when you see a group of older ladies staring at you. A few of them were the ones that made the comments about you and Alejandra. You see one of them whisper in another's ear, and without thinking, you shove Fernando away, putting some distance between you two. 
Alejandra colors paying no mind to the world around her or the dark look on her father's face. "Mi Amor? Is something wrong?" He whispers, grabbing your wrist and yanking you back into his side. "Mr. Alonso, no." You say, getting the older ladies to look up hearing you call Fernando that. 
"Mr. Alonso? What? Y/n, what is going on with yo-" He stops, his eyes catching seeing the older ladies staring and whispering to each other. He sits up straight, looking at you and then at them, waving the waiter over. "Please pack out food. We're taking it to go." You whip your head towards Fernando as to why he is doing this. 
"Mi Amor, take Alejandra to the car and wait for me, yes?" He asks, not caring as he leans in, kissing you. You stand, gather Alejandra in your arms, and walk to the car, Fernando's figure heading towards the older ladies. 
"So? Are your lives so fucking boring you must drag my life into your daily conversation?" Fernando asks, startling the women, but they bristle at his choice of language. "Fernando dear, we've known you since you were young. That girl is just using you." Fernando feels a whole new rage. 
"She is not using me. If anything, I'm the one taking advantage of her. Don't ever, and I mean it, talk about my girlfriend or child ever again. She's not a whore and is a better person than you old bag of bones." Fernando turns on his heels and storms out of the restaurant. 
Throwing the door open, he slams it, Alejandra whimpering, which has you turn around and comfort her. "We're going home." That is all he says as he starts the car and whips it out of the parking and back home. You stare at his grip on the steering wheel, having never seen him this angry. 
Pulling into the driveway, you don't wait for him to park when you're already out of the car and walking to grab Alejandra. "Mi Amor.." Fernando exits the car and reaches for you, but you avoid his touch; Alejandra holds close to your chest. "Go calm down, Fernando; I won't let you be this angry around us." You back away and head into the house, breezing past Ms. Basque. 
"Mama, read me a story?" Her tiny voice laced with sleep. "I will, baby, but let's bathe you first." Kissing her cheek, heading to her bedroom. Fernando paces, thinking everything over, but when he sees how long it's been, he decides to look for you. 
He goes to Alejandra's room down the hall, stopping at the door when he hears your voice reading a story. Poking his head in, he watches as Alejandra nods off, your voice getting softer and softer. "Goodnight, my little fish. I love you." You slide away from her hug, settling her down. 
He moves back from the door as you tiptoe out of the door and turn, closing the door. "I love you." You yelp in shock, hands covering your mouth. "What?" You choke out, trying to calm your heartbeat.
"I love you. I don't care what those elders say or what anyone else says. You're Alejandra's mother, and I want us to have children together. God baby, the thought of you being the future mother of our children, us having a future together. It makes me so goddamn happy." Fernando whispers, resting his forehead on yours. 
Smiling, you grab his larger hand and place it on your little bump, watching Fernando's eyes go through so many emotions. "Really?" He asks, swallowing back tears. "Yeah." You whimper, your free hand twirling in his hair. 
He laughs and picks you up, spinning you around, putting you back down on your feet, and muffling your cries with a kiss. "I love you. God, I love you so much." He whimpers as he hugs you. 
Fernando can't help but picture a little boy with your eyes and his curls running around, playing Alejandra, maybe even learning how to cart. After a year or two, another one with your hair and nose bit his personality, who is stubborn and perhaps the youngest but outspoken and overprotective. He couldn't wait for this future. 
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