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#and if it takes running away for them to get it
bluerosefox · 2 days
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Gray and Graysons
One of the Bats has a secret. Something they never told to the others.
They were so very young but they have memories of a sibling, so small and tiny. They remember the burst of warmth they had in their heart when they held the tiny baby for just a moment.
But they weren’t allowed to keep them, their family couldn’t raise them. Money was tight, just enough for three but not for four, despite their shows always bringing in a crowd it was getting harder and harder for the world to be wowed by them in the new age and their sibling was too small and tiny and needed to be cared in a single place than for them to be on the road. Their lifestyle was not good for his tiny sibling apparently.
They had to watch as their parents gave his sibling away to people in suits, them promising to give his baby brother to a loving family when they find a ‘home’ for him. He watched his parents try to be strong only for his mother to break down once the car left down the road, his father holding her and apologizing, the rest of the circus troupe all silently coming over to give the heartbroken family condolences.
Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson had tears running down his face when he last saw his baby brother.
A brother he got to name before he had to be given away.
Daniel ‘Danny’ Grayson.
-x-x-
Dick never told the others. If anyone dug deep into his past they might find his brother’s birth records maybe, if someone got around to digitizing the paperwork for him but given the fact he was placed in the US childcare systems just a few days after his birth and the fact that Dick was still pretty young they most likely believed he didn’t remember his baby brother now. Not after so many years.
But they were wrong, Dick remembers. And he kept the secret close to his heart and memories.
And the only physical evidence he had was a single picture of him holding his brother, a smile on his tiny face towards their father who had taken the photo of them together. When he had lost his parents, lost most of the things that connected him to them, to his past in the circus that had been his whole life, had been taken from him in Gotham’s ruthless childcare system, he held on tight to the picture in secret. Hid it away from anyone trying to rip it from him, hid it from Bruce when the man took him in days later, hid it from Alfred despite how gentle the butler was towards him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t risk losing his photo at the time, he hadn’t trusted anyone and by the time he did he didn’t have the heart to reveal it.
So yes, the existence of his baby brother Danny was his most guarded and best kept secret.
So that’s why Dick, as Nightwing, nearly died from a heart attack when leaving a Justice League meeting he spotted a familiar face among one of the new engineers working in the Watchtower.
It was like seeing a young version of himself. Only, Dick could see that the young man was more than a copy of him, so much more than a clone. He held many traces of John Grayson but also had a bit more of Mary Grayson than Dick did. Small details that Dick foggely remembers taking note when he had held his baby brother.
“Hey, hurry up with that report Gray!” Shouted the head engineer from down the hall, his hand beckoning the young adult to come over.
“Coming! And boss, I told you Danny is fine!” Danny shouted back before hurriedly leaving a stunned Nightwing.
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prettyfastcars · 1 day
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the way you bend, the way you break - part 2 | Mob!Lando
Read part 1 here 
Summary: Lando finally has all that he wanted, all that belonged to him in the first place. But there’s always room for trouble, even in paradise. And it’s up to him to fix it all and do whatever it takes to make sure that if he can’t have you then… no one can. 
Themes: pregnant!reader, mob!lando, fluff, slight angst, smut, very mild gun kink, gaslighting, dark!lando, possessive!lando
a/n: come get y’all juice [throws this fic at you and runs away]
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He woke up to something warm pressing into the side of his body. 
Snuggled up to him, so close like you were trying to find a way to hide under his skin. He smiled when he looked down and found you asleep, wrapped in your blanket and still seeking his warmth. 
He instinctively wrapped his arms around you, leaning into you as much as he could. He couldn’t exactly press his body completely against yours anymore because the bump got in the way. 
It had been two months since you two had left that mansion and that little town. And your bump was properly visible now. 
Speaking of the bump… He couldn’t resist shifting down to kiss it. “Morning, little one.” He whispered against it. The warmth of your skin was comforting so he nuzzled it and sighed. “Daddy can’t wait to meet you.” 
Then he felt gentle fingers running through his hair. He gave your bump one last kiss before he looked up and found you smiling down at him. 
“Hi,” You whispered, playing with his ridiculously soft, curly hair. 
“Morning, mama.” He reached up and kissed your face until you giggled and told him to back off because his stubble hurt. “Oh it hurts?” He kissed his way down your neck, his hands roaming all over your body, caressing you through the satin PJ set you wore before he began unbuttoning the shirt and lowering the shorts. 
He kissed his way down until he settled in between your legs, your body was still warm – hot rather – from being under the blanket and he couldn’t get enough. His fingers dug into the softness of your thighs as he parted them, bringing his mouth closer to where he desperately wanted to be. 
Kissing you through the thin excuse of an underwear you had on, he asked, “Is it still hurting?” He purposely let his stubble rub against your inner thighs, making you whine and moan as you squirmed under him. “Doesn’t look like it’s hurting.” He teased. 
Your fingers found their way into his hair and you tugged on it to shut him up. He smirked as he went along, letting you guide his mouth to where you wanted him. He licked, and sucked and teased until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you wide open for his mouth and preventing you from moving as he pinned your hips and legs down on the bed as he ate you out. 
This. This right here was his dream. Waking up next to his woman and then rolling over to taste her like she was there only for him to taste. Lando only smiled against your wet folds the louder your moans got. These peaceful mornings were what he lived for. 
But not everyday these past few months have been this peaceful. He still remembered the couple of days following the plane ride here… 
When you woke up on the plane, you immediately started panicking. 
“Baby, it’s okay. We’re just–,” 
“You had no right.” Were the first words you said to him. 
And it pissed him off. “Oh I didn’t? You’re mine, I have every right to do what I think is good for you. And our baby.” 
And then you argued. Big time. You said just the right things to make him mad and he acted like the overbearing, possessive man he was. The only way to get you to listen to him was to bend you over the nearest surface, in this case the bathroom sink, and fuck some sense into you. 
“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was a foggy mess as he started rocking into you, making your front bump against the counter each time he fucked into you. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.” 
“I hate you so much right now…” you whispered, even as your walls clenched around him, unable to hide just how much you wanted him. 
His thrusts were animalistic, and rough. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it, tipping your head back so you could see your reflections in the mirror. “I said tell me you’re mine.” His voice sounded menacing as he stared deep into your eyes through the mirror. 
You hated him. You hated how good he looked with that look on his face. His lips parted as his hips moved, burying his cock into you each time. You hated how good it felt to be bent over in front of him, all for him to use. 
You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours,” You whispered, gritting your teeth, losing this round. But vowing to not forgive him easily. 
You continued watching him through the mirror. He looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, veins on his muscular neck prominent, eyes closed, his lips parted as groans escaped his lips. With that frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you. 
“You better remember that, baby.” He growled. “You are mine. I love you, and I know how to care for you. So don’t fucking tell me what to do when it comes to you and our kid. You hear me?” 
You nodded despite the death stare you sent his way, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. 
And when your walls clenched violently around him. 
“You’re gonna cum for me, mama? Hmm?” He cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. 
Seeing you didn’t reply, he tilted your head to the side a little. You couldn’t see his reflection anymore, not as he leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did, for a moment you forgot all about your anger. 
“Come for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonisingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him as you came, hard.
He did too, right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, as your body shook against the counter. He gathered you up in his arms again, kissing you as your body shivered and trembled. “I love you. I’m doing this for us, baby.” 
After you landed, he drove you to another one of his houses – though he called this one his main house – which was equally as grand as the one you used to work in. Once he showed you to your shared bedroom, you went straight for a nice, warm, long shower. 
And after that, you didn’t speak to Lando for two whole weeks. 
He tried everything. Sulked, apologised, begged, tried to buy you ridiculous things, begged some more. And it took two weeks of severe grovelling for you to finally accept his apology. 
He was glad you didn’t stay mad for too long. Although those two weeks of silent treatment from you hurt even more than the time he’d been shot twice during a crossfire. 
But he had you now, under him and squirming, moaning in pleasure just how he liked it. And this was perfect. His tongue didn’t stop teasing you until you were properly spent, grinding your hips against his mouth as you calmed down after a gentle, but intense orgasm. 
He kissed along your inner thighs, which were still trembling. But then he groaned in annoyance when he looked up and couldn’t see you because of the bump. “Kid’s getting in the way already,” He murmured, kissing his way back up. “I can’t even see your face when I’m down there now.” 
You giggled at the tone he used. “And whose fault is that?” 
He nuzzled your neck again, kissing it as he held you against him. “I love you.” He whispered into your ear. “It’s time to get some breakfast in you, mama. Let’s go.” 
You sighed in bliss, savouring one last moment in bed with him before you got out of bed and went through your morning routine while he made his way downstairs. This had become a new part of your routine now – him making breakfast each morning. 
You shook your head as you showered. You couldn’t believe this was your life now. New home, new place, new doctors, new staff members who waited on you at all times during the day. You had everything one could want. People all around the house who were ready to bring you whatever you wanted. Multiple cars with chauffeurs ready to take you wherever you wanted. 
Anywhere you wanted, you thought, but not to your hometown. 
Lando didn’t like it when you even mentioned the little town you’d just left. It didn’t have much to offer, but it was still where you were born and raised. You didn’t miss it enough to want to go back and live there. No. But you did miss it enough to want to know how everyone was doing back home. 
Your friends and family. 
You’d tried bringing it up just a few weeks ago… 
“Maybe I should go back once.” 
“What for?” He pulled you against him, arms wrapping around you, kissing your forehead as you both stood on the balcony just outside your bedroom, watching the sun rise. 
“Just to say goodbye properly. I… maybe they’d understand why–,” 
His arms tightened around you before he reached up to cup your face in his large, warm hands. “They won’t.” The finality in his tone sent a shiver down your spine. “If they wanted to talk to you they would’ve reached out by now, don’t you think?” 
Lando knew full well that he was leaving out the part where he threatened your friends and family to never reach out to you if they wanted to keep their heads on their shoulders. He had people watching them at all times. He wasn’t taking any risks. You were his now, and no one was gonna take you away from him. 
That ended that conversation. And you never brought it up again. 
You did think about it even now as you got ready for the day before making your way downstairs. Maybe, you thought, you could check up on them without physically going there. 
– 
A couple of days later, Lando came home after a particularly annoying day and all he wanted was a soothing hug from you, a couple of kisses, and maybe you’d let him bury his face between your thighs again. 
But he walked into the house and immediately, he could tell something was wrong. The guards were all in their places, armed as usual. So that calmed him down a little. Yet, a gut feeling told him something wasn’t right. 
As he made his way up the stairs, he took his phone out and checked the security cameras. Everything was fine outside, the guards walked around on alert as per usual. Then he checked the cams inside his home, trying to find you. And he frowned as he saw you in the corner of his library, typing furiously on the keyboard as your eyes remained glued to the screen of his computer. 
Weird. It was rather late, you should’ve been in bed. He tried zooming in to see what was displayed on the screen but he couldn’t see it. Damn. He should get new, better cameras. 
But without wasting any more time, and seeking to soothe that feeling in his gut, he rushed towards the library. And his heart sank as he kept an eye on the security cam footage while he approached the library. 
He watched how you visibly tensed up the moment he was sure you could hear his footsteps approaching. He watched how you clicked around in panic, typing even faster the closer he got to the library doors. 
He put his phone back in his pocket the moment he pushed the doors open and stepped into the room, finding you at his desk. The screen illuminated only your face while the rest of the room remained fairly dark. 
“Hi!” You said, sounding a little too cheerful. Sounding fake. Fake smile, fake happiness upon seeing him when he knew damn well you were just frowning right before he walked into the room. 
He hated it. The mask you put on just to make everything seem normal. He clenched his jaw before he asked, as calmly as he could, “What are you doing? It’s late, baby. Let’s go to bed.” 
“Yeah,” You gathered the blanket you had wrapped around you. “I was just looking into colour palettes. For the nursery, remember?” 
He nodded slowly, watching how you didn’t move from the desk. “Right now, though? It’s the middle of the night. And why were you in the dark?” Like you were doing something you shouldn’t. 
He noticed how you tensed up the moment he began walking towards you. He watched how you tried to discreetly move your hands towards the touchpad again. But he was quicker. 
And it only took him a moment to lean down so he could see properly, understand, and process what you’d been doing, or what you were about to do. He looked away from the screen and looked down at you. You avoided his eyes and that only pissed him off even more. 
“Care to explain this, mama?” 
Something shifted then. His tone, his demeanour, his presence – all of it getting darker. 
You looked away, sighing in defeat. “I just wanted to know.” There was no point in trying to hide that you’d been secretly emailing a friend of yours from back home. There weren’t too many emails exchanged, only a couple going back to a few days prior where you asked about the wellbeing of your parents and other friends. 
You didn’t risk texting because… that would be too easy for him to find. You couldn’t call either, he would know because his loyal guards watched each move of yours. So emails it was. You’d delete them each time. But this time it seemed you’d been caught before you could. 
“You couldn’t trust me?” He asked. Part of him was relieved that your friend had told you that all was well back there. This meant that your family was behaving like he wanted. 
“It’s not that.” 
“Then what is it?” He grabbed the back of the chair and slowly turned it so you’d have no choice but face him. “Why’d you go behind my back like this? And why lie to me?” 
You looked up at him. Piercing eyes staring down at you as the computer screen illuminated only half of his face. His hands remained on the back of the chair so he was closer now. His scent drove you insane. Damn hormones! Lately all you ever wanted to do was be close to him. His scent… it did things to you. This was unfair. 
“I just wanted to confirm that–,” 
“Why not just trust me?” 
You couldn’t help but say, “Trust you? After you kidnapped me and told me my family didn’t want anything to do with me? I’m supposed to just trust you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out like that but there was no going back now. 
“Kidnapped?” Lando scoffed. “Bringing you home where you belong isn’t kidnapping.” 
You sighed again. “I’m not saying I don’t want to be here with you, Lando. But I needed to make sure all was well at home.” 
“And is it?” 
You nodded sheepishly, looking up at him to find him clenching his jaw in that way that made you think of sinful things. 
Thank fuck, he thought, that your friend kept her mouth shut and didn’t give you any details about just how well things were at home. How your family and friends constantly had his men around them, keeping watch and notifying him of each of their moves. At this point, Lando knew exactly how many times your family went grocery shopping or to the park. He had his people keeping eyes on them at home, at work, following their cars – there was nothing he didn’t know about. 
“Am I not enough for you?” He asked, standing up straight so he could look more menacing as he stared down at you still sitting in front of him. 
Only his stance just made your body throb even more. He looked godly from this angle. Like some dark, tortured, tragic hero in his all black suit which fit him like a second skin. That metal chain hanging from his neck. His pretty eyes on you. You had to take a deep breath and shoo away all the filthy images that filled your head. 
You rolled your eyes at his question. “Don’t be dramatic.” 
“Dramatic?” He scoffed. “You’re reaching out to your friends, talking to people behind my back, then lying to me about it and I’m supposed to just what, do nothing?” He accused. “For now it’s emails, what if in the future some day you decide you want to leave me? Will you expect me to just stand there, not be dramatic, and do nothing?” 
You sighed, rolling your eyes as you tried to stand up but he carefully pushed you back down on the chair. Leaning down so he was staring into your eyes, he said, “Do you want to leave me, mama? Is that what’s going on here?” 
“You’re blowing this out of pro–,” 
He cut you off by pulling his shiny, silver gun out and placing it gently on the desk. Right where you both could clearly see. Within arms’ length, but definitely closer to you. 
His voice dropped as he leaned closer, lips bruising against your cheek as he ignored your side of the argument and said, “If you are thinking of running then you better use this and make sure I’m no longer breathing before you do.” He pulled away to look at you. The proximity, the danger in the air, the inevitable tension, it made you breathless. “Because if you run, I will chase.” He whispered, “And you won’t like what I do to you when I catch you.” 
Your heart was pounding, mind racing and the filthiest of outcomes flooding your brain. Still you asked, “You think I would hurt you?” 
He smirked and he’d never looked more unhinged than he did in that moment. It scared you, about just as much as it excited you. He glanced down at his gun. “Not worth living if I can’t have you anyway.” He whispered. 
“Don’t say that.” You shook your head, finally reaching out to hold his face in your hands. “I need you. We need you.” 
That made him look down at your bump, partially visible now since your little PJ top didn’t cover all of it. He dropped to kneel in front of you, bending to kiss the bump again like he always does. 
“I’m sorry, little one,” He whispered, nuzzling the warmth of your skin. “Daddy has to be mean to mama for a bit. She’s being difficult, you see?” Then he looked up at you and said, “I don’t wanna fight.” 
“Neither do I.” You stood up this time, taking a few steps just to put some distance between you and him so you could think straight and take a deep breath. “I just don’t understand why the thought of me being connected to what used to be my home bothers you so much.” 
He slowly turned to the desk and grabbed his gun. None of that scared you. You were safe with him, you were certain of that. So you watched him. Watched how he slowly turned to you and said, “Because there’s the possibility of you leaving me and going back there.” 
You sighed in frustration. “There’s always going to be the possibility for every single thing. That’s how life works! So what, you’ll wipe the entire town out of existence? Burn it to the ground? Turn it to nothing but ash? All so I won’t even have a home to go back to if I ever leave you?” 
He gave you that same unhinged smirk from earlier. Then said, “Don’t tempt me.” 
“Lando.” You warned. 
“What?” 
“What the fuck do you want, huh?” 
He moved. 
He walked towards you and for each step he took, you took one back. Until your back met with one of the book shelves and he was right in front of you. “I’m getting tired of this conversation.” 
You spat back, “I’m getting tired of your face.” You lied. 
He chuckled, then looked down at the bump between you two, caressing it as he said, “You hear that, little one? Mama’s being a brat.” He looked up at you and said, his voice deeper now, “But don’t you worry, daddy will deal with it.” 
It all happened too quickly. Him getting your clothes off, kissing you to distract you as he walked the two of you over to the nearest couch. You bit his lower lip in annoyance till you almost drew blood, and he just chuckled before kissing you even deeper as he carefully pushed you down on the couch, hovering over you supporting himself with one hand while the other one held his gun right above your face. 
“You’re being difficult again, baby.” He murmured, gently lowering his gun and brushing the barrel against your lips, then slowly dragged it down your chin. “You drive me fucking crazy.” He dragged the tip of his gun all the way down your trembling, naked body, down your thighs and back up till he pressed it against your wet folds. He chuckled when he saw you grinding against it. “Does it feel good? Hmm?” He asked. “Does it make you feel all powerful knowing you piss me off more than anyone ever dares to and can get away with it? All because I love you too much to actually punish you? Does it, baby?” 
You frowned at him, still annoyed. “Shut the fuck up.” You didn’t stop grinding against the cold gun. You whined when he pulled it away from your skin and tossed it to the side. 
He had a mean smirk on his face, calm despite everything. You studied his handsome face for a moment. Your emotions were shifting from guilt to annoyance to lust, and your heart fluttered when he whispered, “Spread those legs for me. Show me what’s mine.” 
The crude casualness of his words would’ve surely made you blush if you weren’t dripping wet and burning with desire. And regardless of how pompous you thought he was, how authoritative and overbearing – and no matter how annoyed you were – you did just as he asked. 
You held his stare as you spread your legs so he could settle in between them. Lando eyed you with a mischievous smirk. “There’s my good girl. Now hold yourself open for me.” He said, then lowered his mouth, watching as you carefully spread your folds open for him. “Fuck…” He murmured as he kissed your knuckles. 
You couldn’t see his face – because of the bump – but his warm breath against your fingers, your wet skin, the soft touch of his fingers as he spread your wetness around, followed by his tongue, all of it had you moaning as you arched your back, leaning into his mouth even more. 
You could see his hips moving while he ate you out, grinding into the couch and for some reason that made you whine even louder. “Lando …” you whimpered. 
He smirked against your inner thighs. “Don’t you dare come just yet.” 
You whined, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth to keep yourself from moaning too loudly. Lando smirked when he craned his neck and saw how you were struggling to keep quiet. He knew just how sensitive your body had become these days, how badly you craved his touch at all times. And right now, he noticed the way your body squirmed under him, and he knew you too well so he could tell that you were so close to coming. 
“Baby… please,” You whined, releasing your swollen lip from your teeth. Your body felt hot, and you needed to just let go and come. 
“Please what?” He taunted, shamelessly ignoring your pleas. “Is it frustrating? Wanting something so badly and having someone else just threatening to take it away? Hmm?” He slid his tongue up and down your slit, careful not to make you come and enjoying the way you growled through gritted teeth. “This is how it feels, baby. Everytime you argue and bring up that little town. The thought of you leaving me here and returning there…” He playfully bit your inner thigh. “This is exactly how it feels. Like I’m a fucking madman ready to do whatever it takes just to have what I want. Which is you next to me. Always.” 
You let out a loud moan as he kissed your throbbing clit ever so gently. “I’m sorry,” You caught yourself whispering. “I’ll… I’ll let it go. I promise. There’s nowhere else I would rather be.” You lifted yourself up on one elbow and looked down at him. He looked up at you, with his lips more pink and fuller than usual. “I want to be here, right next to you. Always.” You promised. 
He seemed proud of that. Nodding gently, he said, “See how easy that was, mama?” He kissed his way up your inner thighs again, “I love you.” He murmured, looking deep into your eyes as if daring you to not say it back. 
You couldn’t resist him. “And I love you.” You melted right under his touch as his tongue gently licked down your folds. 
His hand found yours and he laced his fingers with yours while his other hand rubbed up and down your thigh as he pushed his face further into your wet core, making you whimper in pleasure. Your legs had begun shaking just a little as he took his time and dragged his tongue up and down your slit, teasing your sensitive spots with his warm and wet tongue. 
“Please…” You moaned pathetically. 
Then heard his merciless chuckle as he pulled away, kissing his way up your body again. He leaned in to kiss your open mouth eventually, making you gasp and moan. He quickly placed his fingers where his mouth had been earlier, teasing your clit before shoving two fingers inside of you and stroking your walls so slowly that you were well past caring if the guards could hear you moaning. 
He pulled away just for a moment, to quickly take his suit jacket off, then his shirt. He tossed both somewhere on the floor and bent down to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, leisurely taking his time as he unzipped his pants. 
“Please,” You whined, sliding your fingers into his soft hair. “I need you. Now.” You spoke through gritted teeth by the end, tugging at the roots of his curly hair. 
“So needy.” He murmured, loving it actually. It made his ego inflate knowing his woman needed him so badly. “I’m here, baby. “I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered as he lowered his underwear just enough to free his cock. He was rock hard this whole time. It was a fucking miracle he was able to even wait this long. 
With a slow, steady push, he slid his cock into you. You shuddered, moaning as you felt all of him filling you up. Lando held back his moans and growls as he felt your warmth wrap around him so perfectly. He clenched his jaw as he relished the feeling of being inside of you, finally. 
“This what you needed, mama?” he asked, looking down at you, and gently grabbing your face, making you look up at him. 
You just stared at him with parted lips, breathing heavily. Lando smirked, pulling out just a little before pushing back into you again. You closed your eyes and moaned, arching your back, your bare chest pressing against his. 
Lando leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth while he began moving in and out of you. You whined senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you. 
He leaned down to push his face into your neck as he lifted one of your legs and hooked it to his waist, pushing himself deeper inside you. “Fuck…you’re mine, you hear me?” 
You nodded. 
“Only mine…” Lando quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before. “My woman,” He spoke, his voice thick and deep with lust. “Mine.” He stared down at you with a handsome and arrogant smirk on his face. “Say it.”  
“I’m yours.” You repeated, eyes getting droopy with desire. 
Lando caressed your cheek with his knuckles, his other hand holding him up above you. He looked down at you with nothing but love and fierce adoration in his eyes. “Come for me.” 
You let the pressure build inside you, before simply letting go. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, Lando kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even as you came. 
You felt your second release approaching even before you could recover from the first one. 
You felt your mind getting foggy again. His lean body hovering above you as he fucked deeper into you, as much as he could while still being careful not to hurt you – it was a new fear of his, that he would somehow hurt you during sex. “Come for me again, baby.” He growled, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him. 
Your body trembled as you came for the second time, walls tightening around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you until he came as well. “Fuck, baby…” His voice cracked in a way that had you clenching even harder around him. 
You were gasping for breath after that, and Lando twisted you both on your sides so you could rest for a while. He knew all too well that you had the habit of drifting off into deep sleep right after some good sex. 
Kissing your forehead, he murmured, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ll get us in bed in a while, okay?” 
You nodded, burrowing deeper into his warm, muscular chest as you let yourself pass out in bliss. 
— 
You began snoring softly in no time, so he was in no rush to get you to move. He grabbed the blanket from before and made sure you were nice and warm before he carefully slid from under you and retrieved his phone from his trousers on the floor. 
Letting the back of his hand gently caress your cheek, and bending down to kiss your bump one last time, Lando moved away from the couch and went towards the desk. Sitting down on the chair, he made a phone call while he kept an eye on what the screen displayed. 
Those damned emails. 
He smirked when he heard the person on the other end answer. He wasn’t calling to have a full conversation – not with you sleeping just a few feet away. 
“You know what to do.” He ordered over the phone. Then ended the call once the person on the other side confirmed that they indeed knew what he was talking about. 
He tossed his phone aside then closed the tabs on his computer. Deleting the emails before he did so. He scoffed, thinking about that damn little town which was being a pain – but not for long. 
He walked back to where you were sleeping. Kneeling beside the couch, he couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss your cheek. “My baby,” He murmured, letting his lips brush against your skin for a while longer. “I love you so much.” He couldn’t get enough of you. “I’m doing this for us.” He smiled, “You’ll understand one day. I’m just making sure that if ever I can’t have you, then no one can.” 
a/n: hi!! I won’t be writing any more parts for this story. I’ve been loving fics with open endings lately so yeahhhh (there will be more mob fics tho don’t worry <3)
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coco-loco-nut · 1 day
Text
Iconic
pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life
masterlist
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“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.
“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.
“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.
“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.
“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.
“How so?”
“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.
“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.
“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.
“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.
“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.
“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.
“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.
“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.
“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.
“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.
“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.
“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.
“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.
“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.
“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.
“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.
“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.
“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.
“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.
“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.
“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.
“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.
“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.
“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.
“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.
“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.
Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.
“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.
“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.
“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.
“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.
“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.
“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.
“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.
“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.
“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.
“Hey,” he groans at the jab.
“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.
“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.
“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”
“Who said I’d marry you at all?”
“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.
“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.
“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.
“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.
“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.
“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.
“I love you too.”
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verstappen-cult · 3 days
Text
WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS, LESTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. max verstappen x female reader x charles leclerc.
SUMMARY — It's the day after the race in Las Vegas and Max and Charles wake up with a huge headache, two rings in their fingers and no idea of what happened the night before.
GWEN'S MESSAGE. this was requested by @piastrification! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i had so much fun writing it! and i hope you like it. as always comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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Max wakes up with an awful headache and very thirsty. He tries to adjust his vision to the sunlight but every time he tries to open his eyes, there’s a shooting pain in his temple. 
He groans, rolling around in bed. Next to him is Charles still sleeping on his belly, messy hair and something like confetti around him. 
Max can’t remember anything from last night. Well, he remembers going out with Charles, Lando, Daniel and Pierre and then a lot of shots and dancing and people shouting their names and then… nothing. 
“Fuck this.” He whispers and gets out of bed very slowly, feeling dizzy. 
He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a big glass of water before he passes out from dehydration. 
Max is filling a second glass when he sees it; a silver ring around his left ring finger. 
He does not wear rings. 
“Max?” Charles calls his name and Max walks back into the room with his heart hammering in his ears. 
“Did you give me this ring last night?” He asks even before Charles has time to properly wake up. 
“Uh?” The Monégasque says, sitting on the bed and looking confused at the hand Max has up in the air, showing him the piece of jewelry. “No?” Charles rubs his face with his left hand but stops halfway when he feels something on his ring finger. “What the fuck?” 
There is a silver ring, just like the one Max has, on his finger.
And that is not one of his rings because this has three little diamonds encrusted in it. 
“Max,” Charles breathes, a shiver running down his spine as he looks at his boyfriend. “What happened last night?
They look at each other with wide eyes, a million thoughts running through their heads. 
“I remember leaving the club with the boys and then everything goes black.” Charles gets out of bed to look for his phone because there must be something in there, but all he finds are five missed calls from Pierre and a lot, a lot, of messages from you on the group chat. 
“What’s wrong?” Max asks as he walks away to fill a glass of water for Charles. 
“Y/N is here,” He answers, showing him the phone and thanking him for the water with a kiss on the cheek. “She’s downstairs waiting for us with Lando.”
Max groans, falling back onto the bed. 
“I feel like we did something really stupid last night.”
“Shut up, we didn’t do anything.” Charles busies himself with looking for clothes in his suitcase, so he doesn’t have to think about last night. 
They should forget about last night. Last night didn’t happen. 
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By the time they made it to the lobby, Max and Charles had agreed that they needed to talk to Lando before talking to you about the shit show that was last night. 
They may not know exactly what happened, but by the matching rings they know it’s nothing good.
However, they forget about it when they see you standing next to Lando wearing the most beautiful floral dress and your perfect smile. 
“Hey, sweetheart.” Max says, taking off his sunglasses for a second to give you a peck on the lips. Then, he’s putting them back on. 
“How’s the hangover?” You tease them, feeling Charles' body tensing next to you. And you really want to laugh because you know exactly what happened thanks to Lando and a very detailed story. “What did you do last night?”
“Nothing,” Charles is quick to answer, looking at Lando and silently begging him to do something. But Lando just laughs. “Lando, can we talk for a second?”
“What do you need to talk to him about?” 
“Oh, just about something Dani asked us to do before he left last night.” Max lies and if it weren’t because you’re in a good mood and know why they are lying, you would feel angry. 
“Oh, but Dani’s right there.” You point behind his backs and they immediately turn around to find the Australian man talking on the phone. When he sees them, a big smile spreads over his face, giving thumbs up before going back to his conversation. 
“Now, why are you lying to me?” You bite your lip, trying to keep up with the show. “Did you do something I should know about?”
And then, they say at the same time:
“I swear we didn’t do anything, we went to sleep early!”
“We don’t remember what we did last night, okay?!”
Lando bursts out laughing, even bending down as he tries to breathe properly, which draws the attention of a few people around that slowly start to recognize them.
“Well, I guess I’m not needed here since you keep lying to my face.” You pretend to be hurt and it's not easy when all you want to do is laugh in their faces.
Max and Charles start talking over each other, trying to make you understand what is actually happening. 
“And then we woke up this morning with these!” Charles takes Max hand in his, showing their rings. “I swear to god we don’t know what happened.”
“We were so drunk.” Max looks at his feet, feeling embarrassed. He never drinks that much, but apparently last night was a special occasion. 
“Oh, but I know.”
They look at you, expectantly, surprised, confused, a mix of emotions on their faces. 
You take out your phone, looking for something before turning the device around so they are able to see the screen. 
“You got married.”
There on the screen is a picture of Max and Charles with an Elvis impersonator between them, holding his left hands up in the air showing their rings while Charles is holding up his phone with a picture of you, a drunken smile on both of their faces. 
You slide your finger to the left, and a video starts playing. 
You can hear Lando laughing while recording. “What are you doing?” He asks, walking closer to Charles who is looking down at the picture of you on his phone. 
“Baby, we got married!” He exclaims as Max wraps an arm around his waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. “She doesn’t answer. Why isn’t she answering… Are you mad, baby?”
Dani appears on the video, laughing his ass off as he takes the phone away. 
“You’re not on facetime, you idiot. It's a picture.” Pierre says from somewhere next to Lando, probably.
“Say hi to Y/N!” 
“Hi baby!” Charles really likes to call you baby when he’s drunk. 
“We got married!” Max says a little too loud, but doesn’t care and kisses Charles cheek. “Look, we have your ring right here.” He shows a silver ring similar to the one they have, the difference is that the diamond in the middle is slightly bigger. “Congratulations!”
The video ends with all of them laughing. 
There’s a minute of silence before Charles speaks. 
“Okay, it wasn’t that bad.”
“What!?” Max looks mortified. 
“Well, everyone knows that weddings in Las Vegas aren’t actually weddings.” Everyone looks at him at a loss of words, but he just keeps going. “We aren’t actually married.”
“Charles,” Lando laughs a little more. He’s definitely having the time of his life. “weddings in Vegas are very real. You are married.”
“No we’re not!” 
Max sighs, placing a hand on his boyfriend — husband’s shoulder. “Charlie, we are.” 
Charles gaps, immediately looking at you. “I’m so sorry! We didn’t know!” 
You can’t help it anymore, so you laugh. 
“Oh my god, you should see your faces!”
Max and Charles look at each other, and then at you. They don’t have a clue about what is happening anymore. Not since last night. 
“You’re not… mad?” 
“Well,” You wipe the tears from your eyes, shoving your phone back in your purse. “I was at first, now i just find it hilarious.” 
“I’m so sorry, schat.” Max runs his hand through his hair, looking sheepishly at you with a pout on his pretty lips. 
“It is your fault!” Charles says out of nowhere, pointing a finger in Lando’s face. “Why didn’t you stop us?”
Lando raises his hands in surrender. “I tried!” 
“You should’ve tried harder!”
“Max promised to let me win if I let you get married!” 
“Max!” Charles says, offended. 
“I won’t do that.”
You shake your head, patting Max’s cheek lightly, condescendingly. “You will if you want me to forgive you.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days
Note
🍮could I request hsr Astral express boys + penacony boys (not Gallagher tho) with a very teasable s/o bcoz they flinch and blush whenever they initiate physical touch or kiss them.
It's not like the s/o hates it, it's just they not used to it so every hug and kiss or touch is very electrifying. Would the boys tease them to hell and back or be very sweet and gentle and understanding to take things slow? 🍮
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Me being dumb and not knowing whether ratio would be considered a part of the trio but he’s here either way regardless…
Aventurine:
Takes pride in the fact that he has so much power over you by doing something so small as kiss your cheek or even hold your waist.
It’s an absolute power trip for him in knowing this little secret of yours and he will be unforgiving about it too, plus your reactions were just so cute for him to give up now.
‘Good morning my dear.’ Aventurine say softly as he pressed a kiss to your neck, smiling upon feeling you tense beneath his lips and chuckles. ‘Still reacting like this after we’ve been together as long as we have? How adorable.’ He practically purrs as he burrows his face into your neck and strengthens his hold on your waist despite your noises of complaints.
‘Aventurine.’ You whine, burrowing your burning face into the pillow. ‘Knock it off.’
Aventurine pulls his head out from your neck and rests it against your shoulder as he could practically envision the steam coming from your ears. ‘I’m not doing anything though.’ He says cheekily as he presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, nipping at it a little in order to hear you squeak. ‘I’m merely expressing how happy I am now that you’re awake.’
‘Yes you do.’ You said as you tried to borrow your face deeper into the pillow out of a need to hideaway from Aventurine and his knowing gaze, ‘And aren’t you enjoying this far too much.’ You add as you felt your face burn even more upon hearing him laugh in your ear.
‘No, I think I’m enjoying this the right amount.’ Aventurine says as he presses a kiss behind your ear and cuddling himself further against your back, taking far too much self enjoyment in making you a flustered mess to his heart’s delight.
Ratio:
Nothing gets past this man, nothing.
He’s immensely observant and will catch on quite quickly on how you’d practically freeze up when he shows you any physical affection. And he secretly loves the reactions that you give in response to him merely brushing shoulders with you.
Veritas treats this as a mini experiment of sorts and will run this excuse into the ground if it meant getting to see you either melt or become flustered to the high heavens from his touch.
‘Interesting.’ He would mutter under his breath as he slowly runs his fingertips up and down the back of your hand with featherlight caresses, all the while you were trying your hardest not to pull away per his instructions when agreeing to help with his study. ‘How very interesting indeed.’
You breathed out an uneven sigh. ‘What’s so interesting about my reactions, wouldn’t this sort of thing bore you?’ You asked as your attempts at hiding how much his touch was affecting you were failing by the second.
‘Not necessarily.’ Veritas said as he started caressing the inside of your wrist and pulse point as his eyes remained on you, closely examining your face for even the most minuet shifts in your expression. ‘If anything I find them to be rather-‘
‘Let me guess, interesting?’ You butted in a moment of cheekiness and immediately regretting it when Veritas stopped stroking the inside of your wrist and moved his hand to cup your jaw, lifting it so that you’d have no choice but to look at him directly as he leant in close to your face, his nose touching your own.
‘Yes, very. However I’m sure we can find some… unique ways to fully experience the full extent of your reactions to my touch.’
Sunday:
He finds it amusing seeing you flustered from him simply kissing the back of your hand or guiding you down the streets with a firm hand on the waist.
He’d gladly use this against you in times where he was feeling particularly in a teasing mood as your cute reactions fill him with a sense of pride knowing that only his touch could get those kinds of reactions out of you.
However he didn’t want you potentially passing out from all his teasing and would take it slow for your sake by asking permission to mitigate your tendency of easily being taken off guard somewhat.
It really depends on how he’s feeling that day and that only makes him more unpredictable, which meant you were more often than not kept on your toes when this happens, much to Sunday’s enjoyment.
‘Is my dearest at a loss for words already? And I’ve barely even touched you and you’re flustered beyond compare.’ Sunday would laugh after pulling your hands away from your face after kissing you on the lips in greeting. ‘How adorable.’ He adds as he presses you against his chest.
‘I’m just not use to…all this.’ You defend yourself.
‘I know.’ Sunday coos as he gently lifts your head by the chin to look at him rather than square at his chest, pressing a reassuring kiss to your nose. ‘It’s not something you should be ashamed of as it just means that no one was willing to give you the love that you deserve. So I will make up for what others sorely lack in droves.’ He adds as his wings fluttered in determination.
Welt:
An absolute gentleman who’d gladly go slow and help you become more acquainted with physical touch.
When he first kissed your cheek and heard you sharply inhale and become rigid, he genuinely thought he did something wrong and possibly hurt you in the process, and was about to apologises profusely until you told him that you just weren’t use to physical contact of any sort.
‘I merely wish to not put you in any form of discomfort.’ He tells you afterward as he gently holds your hand in his own.
‘You’re not, I’m just not use to stuff like this just yet.’ You said as you gestured to your interlocked hands with a soft smile, you always found Welt’s need to prioritise you and your comfortability above all else endearing and extremely sweet, so much that you often find yourself getting flustered from that more often then the physical contact itself.
‘Then we shall go slow.’ He replies, squeezing your hand reassuringly.
And slow you did.
Welt always tells you what he was going to do beforehand so that you wouldn’t be taken aback by the sudden display of affection, which does help in some regard but you still get flustered from the way in which he held and or kissed you.
His hugs were strong, comforting and warm that you felt like you could fall asleep in his embrace, but you knew you’d be more likely to burrow your face into his chest out of habit as you let out a muffled sorry.
Welt didn’t mind, the man was made with unwavering patience.
‘It’s okay my dear.’ He says as he chuckles, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Theres no need to apologise, we’ve got a lot of time to try again.’
Dan heng:
Much like Welt, Dan Heng would think he hurt you somehow when trying to hold your hand and was quick to drop your hand and apologise, only for you to stop him before he could and tell him that physical contact wasn’t something you were use to.
From then on Dan Heng has been taking it slow, so extremely slow that it was more frustrating than not when all you wanted him to do was hold you in his arms, but he was treating you as though you were made out of porcelain.
He was sweet about the whole thing, but was probably overthinking it and or trying to follow Welt’s example by showing unwavering patience. You had to remind him that it was okay for him to touch you, hug you and so on if he so wished.
‘Then…is it okay if I kissed you?’ He would ask not long after, which made you wonder whether the reason he hesitates was because he was waiting for your permission to do such things.
‘Of course, you don’t need my permission to do so but I appreciate where it’s coming from.’ You replied as you felt his hands slowly cup your face and linger there so you could become accustomed to his touch, before resting his forehead gently against yours as he leant in for a sweet, slow kiss.
Dan Heng takes these things in stages because he too can get easily flustered from an overload of affection, so he understands your situation better then most but also doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries you may have; Which often times makes affectionate moments between you two come across more stifling and slightly awkward but you’ll get there.
And when it does? It becomes a little ritual for you two to share a kiss or two before missions, and or link pinkies when you’re both feeling unsure and just need to feel one another.
It’s extremely cute.
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anadiasmount · 3 days
Text
as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.
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quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?
wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist
psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍
"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.
"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.
"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."
"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.
"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.
jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.
you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.
going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.
you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.
"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.
he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"
“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.
“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.
“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.
you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.
you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.
“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"
"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.
"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.
“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"
"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.
"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.
to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.
they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?
as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.
after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.
"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.
he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.
he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.
you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."
"are you serious right now?"
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f0point5 · 1 day
Note
i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body
Me too! GOD. Me, too.
It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!
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✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨
Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush
Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.
You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.
This guy must be really fucking interesting.
You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.
It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.
It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.
“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”
GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”
Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”
Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”
Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.
“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.
“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”
Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.
“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.
“Max,” GP sighs.
“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”
GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”
“I’m not jealous.”
And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.
Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”
You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.
“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.
GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”
You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.
“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.
Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.
“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.
The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.
“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”
“My what?”
“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.
He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.
Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.
He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?
He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.
“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.
He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.
“Right, so,”
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girlokwhatever · 2 days
Note
ooou could you do paige x reader who joined kks live once (like she thought she was cute and they started talking ykwimmmm)
IKWYMMMM
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✩ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆✧₊ ⊹ nice surprise,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
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“yo, that girl’s picture is nice,”
“PAIGE… girl boo.. which one?”
paige is pointing to your profile picture and saying your username out loud to kk, who’s hosting the live.
you don’t even have your phone, it was your roommate that joined the live. she had commented a few times and paige saw, zoning in on your picture. she thought you were pretty. to be fair, you loved your profile picture. it was you in a floor-length sundress and sunglasses, holding your younger brother’s hand.
kk takes advantage of paige’s blabber mouth, deciding to add you to the live and make her friend talk to you.
your roommate is freaking out, screaming your name and running into the kitchen where you’re cooking dinner.
“GIRL TAKE YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW-“
“what did you do-“
you look on your phone screen and see the live, the faces of your college’s women’s basketball team staring back at you. you recognize some of them easily, paige bueckers and kk are two.
your roommate, evie, is leaning over to you and whispering that “paige saw your profile picture and thinks you’re cute so they invited you to the live but it wasn’t really you it was me so i’m bringing it to you so you can get game girl-“
she’s talking so fast you hardly even register what she’s saying. you practically feel your jaw hit the floor and your eyes widen at evie, then at the live, then back to evie. she’s grinning and winking at you like she’s just won you the lottery.
“guys this is her..”
“HEYYY GIRL BOO! my friend here, paige- PAIGE boo stop playin. anyway, my friend paige thinks you’re cute.”
“oh! hey guys!” you’re waving gently and smiling. paige practically ran off screen and you think you might do the same. you’re a little camera shy and the hundreds of people watching doesn’t help anything.
you catch the way paige is peaking her head over the side of the screen and kk pulls her back down quickly. now you’re both looking straight at each other, a silent understanding of how awkward this moment is.
“heyyy, i’m pagie,”
she’s also smiling and waving and kk is in hysterics, as is evie. as terribly awkward as this is, you think paige is very nice looking as well. her wavy hair is down past her shoulders and she’s wearing a uconn jacket with pajama pants on. you’re dressed similarly in your pj’s and a sweater. but you’re definitely embarrassed because you have on an iowa sweater you got from your dad (it’s where he went).
“so you’re an iowa fan?” kk is asking you, one eyebrow raised. you’re blushing a deep shade of red now and hiding your face by pushing your phone back towards your roommate.
what is even happening?
“no guys trust she’s uconn all the way. we watch the games all the time.” evie is answering for you, pushing the phone into your hands again. you can’t tell if you want this moment to end or not.
“that’s good cause paige doesn’t mess with iowa y’know-“
“what?! i never said that! i never said that. iowa is cool.” she’s talking to you now, probably trying to make you feel better. you think it’s sweet how panicked she is. you feel the same.
“so.. girl boo.. do you wanna date paige?”
“kk! what- what kind of question is that?!”
both you and paige are equally gobsmacked but evie is yelling out in the background that you do want to date her.
“i.. um,”
“you definitely don’t have to answer that ma, ignore her please.”
kk is dying laughing and evie is too from her seat against the counter. paige is taking the phone and walking away, yelling at kk to be quiet and stop embarrassing her. you’re laughing a bit too but cover it up for a simple smile.
paige is really cute, you think.
“hey, look, i would actually take you out on a date.. if you want?”
you’re silent for a moment, looking up at evie with shock. never did you ever imagine that paige bueckers would be asking you out on a date, especially not on a tiktok live.
“um, yeah. yes. i would like that.”
she’s got this cheesy smile on her face, turning the phone away for a second. “alright, i’ll dm you. it was nice to meet you. i wasn’t expecting this but it was a really nice surprise.”
“yeah, it was.”
later that night she’s messaging you on instagram asking for your number. she decides to facetime you, apologizing for the whole live and saying she wishes she could see you in person instead.
next thing you know, you’re giving her your dorm location and number and she’s on her way to see you. you consider yourself extremely lucky for such a nice surprise.
⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭.ೃ࿐🀥☽。⋆𓍯 ִֶָ.
I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!!
it’s a bit different but i really like it
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ophelisstuff · 2 days
Text
GOODLUCK CHARM | P.B x C.C x Reader
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authors note : first smut ever written! Had to channel my inner freak for this one LMAO. lmk how y’all like this and feel free to request more
requested by : anon
summery : Caitlin Clark and Paige Bueckers have a little fun with their girlfriend before the Iowa vs Uconn basketball game.
word count : 1.2k
warnings : sexual themes, cursing, degrading, slightly mean Caitlin, mention of straps, mentions of uconn vs iowa 😔.
“Strip.” Caitlin demanded, startling you as she stormed into the hotel room with Paige following close behind her.
Their unexpected arrival bringing you back into reality as you expected them to be gone out longer.
With the upcoming game between Iowa and Uconn, both Paige and Caitlin had been at each others necks for the past few days.
Giving one another smart remarks and starting petty arguments about who would win. And even daring to ask which team you were rooting for.
Never feeding into the disagreements and laughing at them instead, you enjoyed the few hours of peace you had while they were both away at practice.
Though on the other hand, it seemed as if Caitlin and Paige hated being away from you for the period of time.
Numerous text’s being sent to the groupchat between the three of you. Mostly consisting of Paige and Caitlin’s nonsense while discussing how much they missed you.
“What?” You questioned, your response delayed as you were yet to register Caitlin’s words.
“You heard her, strip.” Paige told you, repeating the words that had exited Caitlin’s mouth — watching as you looked at both of them in confusion.
Nevertheless, you followed the demand. Stripping your clothes off and standing before the two of them — their eyes hungrily trailing up and down your body.
“on your back.” Paige instructed, you finding your place on the bed. Laying as the blond had instructed, watching as both your girlfriends hovered over your bare body.
“Such a good listener.” Caitlin began, her fingers running through your loose hair as she looked at Paige. “Should I get the strap?”
You laid in silence a look of desperation displayed in your face as you listened to the two talk. The urge to satisfy your heat growing in response the unexpected situation.
“No. Save it for later on tonight.” Paige told the brunette, deciding to give you a little piece of the experience. Saving the rest for after the basketball game.
Noticing your neediness, Paige moved her hand down to your pussy — clothed by the damp silk underwear. Her fingertips rubbing light circles on your clit.
Caitlin sucking on your neck, her hands tenderly squeezing your breasts — you couldn’t hold in the loose moans that’s slipped out of your mouth.
“Look at her.” Caitlin scoffed, parting ways with your neck as she looked at both you and Paige. “Barely touched her and she’s moaning like a slut”
Paige smiled at the girls words, sliding her hand into your underwear. Running a finger through your folds — being met with a familiar slick.
“Feel her Cait. Already wet for us” Paige shook her head at you, moving to the side so Caitlin could feel the slick between your folds.
Instead of slipping her hand in your underwear, Caitlin slid the fabric off of you. Absentmindedly setting it somewhere as she smirked at you.
“Look at that. All for us” Caitlin spoke, keeping your legs spread open as both she and Paige looked at your pussy like a piece of artwork.
A short whine exited your mouth, growing desperate for either one of their touches. Wanting to feel something that would take the ache away.
“Needy brat.” Caitlin scolded, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to her — on her knees as she sat face to face with your pussy.
Paige on the bed beside you, fully clothed as her teeth unexpectedly tugged at your nipples. Causing a gasp to exit your mouth in return.
“Keep her still” Caitlin instructed Paige — who gave no answer due to attacking your breasts with her mouth.
Aware of how squirmy you happened to be when getting ate out. The girls often took turns holding the upper part of your body down.
Rolling her eyes, the brunette licked a stripe of your pussy. Watching as you squirmed beneath her, the girl couldn’t help but smirk.
Spitting on your pussy, Caitlin dove in — her tongue sliding over every aching area that you wanted to be touched.
“Caitlin!” You yelled, a string of moans immediately exiting your mouth, Paige’s assault on your breasts making the moans louder.
Unable to fight the pleasure, you tried to hold the moans in. Aware that your hotel neighbors could be in their room — you tried to be quiet out of respect for them.
“Bet no one makes her feel as good as we do” Paige confidently spoke, watching as Caitlin stopped eating you out — lining two fingers up with your entrance.
“I know, and she knows that shit too” Caitlin slowly slid her fingers in glaring at you. Your eyes shut, allowing moans to flow out.
“Look at her, it’s pathetic” Paige said, placing her fingers back on your clit to rub rapid paced circles on the sensitive area.
Slipping her fingers out and slipping them back in, Caitlin pumped her digits in and out of you — meeting Paige’s pace.
Sitting up using your elbows as support, you tried to look at your girlfriends — close to a release that you’d been craving.
“I’m gonna cum!” You announced through a moan, though most the pleasure had slowed down as soon as you did.
“Who’s pussy is this.” Caitlin asked you — Paige beginning to slow down the action on your clit to hear the answer.
Their eyes set on you, almost as if they were daring you to say the wrong answer. Though in the moment, all you wanted was the release you’d been waiting for.
“It’s yours, all for you and Paige!” You spoke nearly immediately, satisfied once the rapid paces had resumed.
Your legs beginning to rapidly shake, a tight knot began to form in your stomach. A throaty moan exiting your mouth as you were met with your release.
“There we go” Paige muttered as both of the girl’s removed their hands from your pussy to gaze at you — out of breath from the orgasm.
“That’s nothing. Just wait until the games over.” Caitlin told you as Paige laughed — the brunette walking into the bathroom to grab a rag to wipe you off with.
“We’ll have to see who our good luck charm’s gonna help win first” Paige reminded Caitlin who rolled her eyes in response — chuckling as she immediately replied
“Yeah, which will be iowa” She looked at you with a grin on her face. “Isn’t that right baby?”
“No, don’t agree with her.” Paige jumped in immediately, setting a pair of lounge clothes that came from your suitcase on the bed. “Everyone knows Uconn is winning this time.
“Oh yeah. and Who told you that — your delousins?” Caitlin replied to her girlfriend, an unwavering smirk on her face as she knew how to get under Paige’s skin.
“You know what. I’m gonna-” Paige began, a threat nearly coming out of her mouth before being silence by you.
“Both of you, shut up and stop acting like toddlers!” You scolded your girlfriends, who immediately dropped the disagreement and moved on as if it were nothing.
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0bticeo · 1 day
Text
lurk | feyd rautha
part four of five. (part 1.) (part 2.) (part 3.)
summary:
“i need you,” he rasps, etching a molten kiss on the dip of your collarbone. “need to get rid of his taste.”
his hand crawls up your thighs, the folds of your velvet dress gliding against your skin. you can still hear the soldiers outside, feel the low thrum of their clamour in your very bones. should you focus, you’ll perceive the baron’s suspensors sucking away at gravity, the servants’ roaming about, feet like neelde-ants on cold marble.
anyone could catch you.
“what are you waiting for, my lord na-baron?”
wc: 1.6k
tw: political machinations, reader being inches away from killing everyone in the damn place including feyd, kissing, biting, mentions of breeding, possessive & needy feyd, sub!feyd, oral (fem receiving), fingering, hallway sex.
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you’re getting tired of dreams. 
there’s terrible, terrible purpose dripping from their edges. you see it all - snapshots of horror, fractals reflecting endless bodies dropping to the ground. sixty one billion people, dead. ten thousand worlds burning, the universe begging for respite under your brother’s crushing fist.
paul. little mouse, whom you’ve shielded all your life, whom you’ve sparred with, crysknife pressed against his throat, his shield a feeble protection against your blade. something shatters. blades. so many of them. your blade. jamis’ blade. feyd-rautha’s blade. 
your dream has you standing in what you know to be the emperor’s ship, shrouded in bene gesserit veils. two silhouettes stand against the bleeding sun of arrakis. 
the realisation embeds itself in your mind, marble-carved. fate is looking down upon you and tells you: one of them dies in the end.
when you wake up, there’s a scream dying on your tongue.
you don’t know where you are. you don’t know where you are, why your side is on fire, why you taste blood in your mouth.
slowly, you rise, heart beating furiously, breath laboured. i must not fear. your fingers dig your sheets. the infirmary. fear is the mind killer. you close your eyes, will yourself to breathe. fear is the little-death that brings total -
a hand settles over yours, bone pale fingers weaving with yours. warmth settles on your shoulder. you relax, ever so slightly, leaning into the touch, burying yourself in the crook of feyd-rautha’s neck. he’s all sharp edges, honed to deadly perfection. in the quiet midnight of geidi prime, he softens for you.
“what troubles you?”
you wonder if you should tell him. of the golden path, paved with blood, so much blood it clings to the soles of your feet, you see it rise, rise, eager to seize you-
a low mumble of your name.
“dreams are messages from the deep,” you whisper in the crook of his neck. 
his hold tightens over you, brings you closer to the warmth of him, thumb running over the smooth skin of your belly, over your unborn child growing there. from your position, you can feel it, the way his vocal cords vibrate. he’s purring, soothing you bit by bit.
you tilt your head, hand coming to cradle his face, knuckles brushing against his cheek.
“i should be plotting your death.”
a low chuckle, a flash of almost eagerness in his eyes.
“i don’t doubt you will.”
his hand wraps around your neck, resting on the soft skin of your throat, bringing you closer to him, shifting your bodies until you’re straddling him, arms wrapping around his neck. you could strangle him. you could use the voice. ask him to take the knife you know rests on the bedside and slit his own throat like the harkonnen beast he is. use it yourself.
but you’ve sealed your fate the moment you stepped on arrakis. so instead, you let the darkness swallow your confession.
“i don’t want you to die.”
“i won't,” he mumbles against your lips, words like an oath as he kisses you.
they say the beat of a butterfly wing can cause a tempest on the other side of the globe. you wonder what tempest will be borne out of the fury beating in your chest. here goes: morning comes. the spice rules it all, even the baron’s affairs, so he gathers his troops to make a planetary governor out of feyd-rautha. 
the glorious sun of geidi prime shines its lifeless light upon you all. 
the finest harkonnen soldiers, ruthless hounds barking their sovereign’s name in fervent adoration, thousands upon thousands of ants stretching as far as you can see. they corrupt it all the harkonnen, eating away at the horizon. waiting. 
you’re waiting, too, hands folded before you, lone silhouette clad in dark robes, veils like a mask before your face. bene gesserit, the court calls you. 
not quite.
by bearing feyd-rautha a child, you’ve gained a modicum of respite. the bene gesserit will spare you, the mother of their precious kwisatz haderach. they will keep your survival a secret and bury it behind inscrutable eyes.
plans within plans within plans. you’re a pawn in the baron’s meaty hands, he’s a pawn in yours, and the bene gesserit have been pulling the strings for ninety generations. 
your gaze flits to the scene before you. feyd-rautha harkonnen, clad in dark leathers, silver embroidery like pauldrons over his shoulders. the mass of his uncle hovers above him, a hovering beast eager for power. two meaty hands encompass his face - absolute disgust coils in your chest as you watch vladimir harkonnen kiss his nephew. he kisses back. a show of dominance.
the soldiers howl his name, earth trembling under the clamour. they salute, arms crossed over their heads, a living, breathing organism, synchronicity at its peak. 
arrakis has a new ruler. 
a hand clasps over your wrist, drags you away from the adoring masses, in the sweet darkness of the palace’s hallways. you’re pinned against the wall, and feyd-rautha looms before you, terrible hunger burning in his eyes. slowly, he lifts your veils, high enough to bare your mouth to him. 
“my lord-”
you’re cut off by his lips on yours, eager, desperate, savouring you like fine arrakean spice-wine. 
“i need you,” he rasps, etching a molten kiss on the dip of your collarbone. “need to get rid of his taste.”
his hand crawls up your thighs, the folds of your velvet dress gliding against your skin. you can still hear the soldiers outside, feel the low thrum of their clamour in your very bones. should you focus, you’ll perceive the baron’s suspensors sucking away at gravity, the servants’ roaming about, feet like neelde-ants on cold marble.
anyone could catch you.
“what are you waiting for, my lord na-baron?”
he nips at your ear, grin sharper than his blade as he sinks to his knees. slowly, intimately, a shadow curling at his mistress’ feet. he unravels you, nails raking up your thighs, liquid desire burning in their path. 
“eyes on me.”
your eyes snap open. oh, he’ll be the death of you, with the way his eyes freeze you in place, willing, begging for his touch. you shiver, a low, needy sound escaping you. 
he grins, a flash of black teeth against the liquid darkness of your robes. shadows will swallow you whole - he will swallow you whole. already is, with the way he trails kisses up your thighs, teeth sinking in the meat of it until blood drips on your skin. 
he’s lapping at it, hands wrapping around your leg, spreading you apart inch by precious inch until he fits the broad expanse of his shoulders in the space he’s carved for himself. he raises his head, leans his cheek against your thigh, nuzzling in its softness. there’s blood coating his lips, sweet like forbidden fruit, and an unquenchable fire in his eyes.
“exquisite,” he purrs, nail digging in the blossoming mark he’s left, until your hips seek his touch.
he puts his mouth to you. you bite your lip, hard, as you feel him tease you, tongue lapping at you like sweet pomegranate, skilled fingers coaxing pleas for more. the cold of his silver ring has you keening - you're melting against him.
it’s obscene, how the only sounds you can hear are the pleased moans of your lover, the squelching of your juices dripping down his face, his wrist. it’s too much, too fast - your nails dig into his nape, bringing him closer. fucker’s purring, hands digging in your hips. he’s making a feast out of you, and you’ve never seen prettier sight. 
feyd-rautha, kneeling at your feet, a pretty, pretty blush dusting his cheeks, his soft mouth on your cunt, ruining you as he denies himself sweet release.
“feyd-”
a jolt - he’s just nipped your clit, and you’re falling apart with his name on your tongue, burning, melting in the pits of desire. you grow boneless, faltering on unsteady legs. he pulls you to him before you can fall, kissing you, moulding his devouring mouth to yours. 
distantly, you register that he’s breathless, that he’s pressing you against him, that you can feel the dampness at the front of his pants.
his voice is a low, needy rasp.
“you taste divine, my dear.”
there’s a commotion. someone, somewhere, is calling. a servant. a feast is prepared. blasphemy - the baron is a beast, and he will not have his nephew leave without obscene amounts of food. good. it leaves room for you to plan - you’re running out of precious, precious time. there are too many variables for you to act alone, yet you are.
you’re sitting at feyd-rautha’s side at a banquet table. on you watch, a mockery of a bene gesserit, nails digging in your palm. there’s a knife before you, of course. the baron’s sitting at the head of the table, stuffing himself until he’s about to burst. 
repulsive.
you could do it now. put an end to the harkonnen, avenge your family. plunge that knife in the baron’s throat and watch him die like an animal. 
but revenge is best served cold. you remember princess irulan being seated in front of you. you remember the emperor at the head of the table. you remember his knife slicing through unknown poultry. a falcon. he’s doomed your family to death. 
the emperor is old. paranoid. anybody would’ve seen that the atreides were far too loyal to even consider rebelling against him, rising influence or not. someone convinced him otherwise. the truthsayer, reverend mother gaius helen moriam. 
you take a bite of your own meal and find it tasting like ash. the only dish you yearn for is revenge.
you want the baron dead. you want the emperor stripped of his power. you want to watch the split second of horrified realisation on the reverend mother's face. 
you want them to burn, and burn they will.
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The Finish Line.
masterlist || ask me anything <3
my blurb masterlist is here.
authors note - in honour of the london marathon being held today, and my dad running, enjoy this little blurb.
word count - 1.3k
in which, harrys wife is running the london marathon, having been signed up by her sister in law gemma as a joke and now as she is nearing the finish line, harry is determined to be there to greet her.
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2023.
As you sit in your cozy living room on your birthday, your husband Harry by your side and your one-year-old son peacefully asleep on the cushion next to him, you feel content. Gemma, your sister-in-law, suddenly interrupts the tranquil moment with a mischievous grin on her face.
"Happy birthday, sis! I've got another present for you," Gemma announces, holding out an envelope with excitement.
You accept it, exchanging puzzled glances with Harry. "Oh, Gem, you didn't have to get me anything else. You've already spoiled me enough."
Gemma shakes her head, insisting, "Trust me, you're going to love this one. Open it!"
With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you tear open the envelope. Your heart skips a beat as you pull out a letter. Your eyes widen in disbelief as you read the words:
"Congratulations! You've been signed up for the 2024 London Marathon."
Your jaw drops, and you stare at Gemma in shock. "What?! Are you serious?!"
Gemma's grin widens. "Absolutely! I know you've been talking about wanting to challenge yourself, and what better way than running a marathon, right?"
You can feel the panic rising within you. "But Gem, I've never even run a half-marathon before! This is insane!"
Harry chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, looks like you've got some training to do, m’love."
You shake your head, still in denial. "No, no way. I can't do this. I'm not ready for something like that.”
2024.
And now, just under halfway through,just seconds away from reaching mile ten,doubts start creeping in, and your legs feel heavier with each step.
The cheering crowds blend into a blur of noise around you.
Just when you're on the verge of giving up, a familiar voice cuts through the chaos, calling your name.
You glance up and spot Harry and your son standing behind the barricades, their faces lit up with pride and encouragement.
With a surge of determination, you veer towards them, pushing through the throngs of runners, apologising when you get in the way.
When you reach them, you're breathless and exhausted, but seeing their smiling faces fills you with a renewed sense of hope.
"H-Harry," you pant, trying to catch your breath. "I don't think I can do this. It hurts."
Harry wraps his arms around you, offering comfort and support. "Hey, hey, you've got this. You've trained so hard f’this moment. Y’stronger than you think."
Tears well up in your eyes as you lean into his embrace. "But what if I can't finish? What if I let everyone down?"
Harry gently tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, m’love. You've never been a quitter, and you're not about to start now. Remember why you're doing this – for yourself, for our family, We believe in you, and we'll be right here cheering you on every step of the way."
You glance down at your sleeping son, his innocent face a poignant reminder of the love and support surrounding you.
With a determined nod, you straighten up, wiping away your tears. "Okay, I'll keep going. For us."
Harry flashes you a proud smile, planting a kiss on your forehead. "S’my girl. Now go show 'em what you're made of. We'll be waiting for you at the finish line."
It takes you around another two hours to near the finish line, every step feels like an uphill battle.
Your ankle throbs with each stride, threatening to give out beneath you, and a wave of nausea washes over you. The cheers of the crowd blend into a distant hum as you focus all your energy on putting one foot in front of the other.
Your vision blurs with tears of pain and exhaustion, but you can see the finish line looming ahead like a beacon of hope. With every ounce of determination left in you, you push forward, the crowd's encouragement spurring you on.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you limp across the finish line. Tears stream down your face as you collapse onto the ground, the rush of emotions overwhelming you. The volunteer at the finish line rushes over, their concern evident as they kneel beside you.
"Hey there, are you alright? Do you need medical attention?" the volunteer asks, their voice filled with genuine concern.
You manage to nod weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I think so. Just... just give me a moment."
The volunteer nods understandingly, offering you a bottle of water and helping you sit up. "Take your time. You did an amazing job out there. You should be really proud of yourself."
As you cling to the poor volunteer, you turn to the her with a hopeful expression. "Um, excuse me, could you... could you help me over to my husband, please?"
The volunteer nods understandingly, offering you a supportive arm. "Of course, let's get you over there."
With the volunteer's assistance, you limp over to Harry, each step feeling like a small victory. As you draw closer, Harry's eyes light up with relief and love, his arms open wide to welcome you.
"Thank you so much," you murmur to the volunteer, tears still streaming down your face.
She smiles warmly. "It's my pleasure. Congratulations on finishing the marathon. You're an inspiration."
You nod, touched by her words, before turning your attention back to Harry. His eyes are filled with love and pride as he opens his arms to you, and you melt into his embrace, feeling the warmth and safety of his love surrounding you.
"Oh, Harry," you whisper, tears of exhaustion and joy streaming down your cheeks. "I did it."
He holds you close, his embrace a comforting anchor in the midst of your overwhelming emotions.
"Yes, you did," he murmurs, his voice soft and full of admiration. "I'm so proud of you, m’love. You're incredible."
You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent and reveling in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms. "I couldn't have done it without you," you admit, your voice muffled against his shirt.
He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his touch tender and reassuring. "Y’stronger than you know, darling. And I'll always be here to support you, every step of the way."
Your heart swells with love for him, overwhelmed by the depth of his devotion.
"I love you, Harry," you whisper, your words a vow of gratitude and affection.
"I love you too, my darling," he replies, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "Now let's get you some rest. You've earned it."
Your son looks up from the stroller, his face breaking into a wide grin as he reaches out for you.
"Mama!" he exclaims, his little arms outstretched.
"Hey there, my little champion," you coo, scooping him up into your arms. His giggles fill the air as you pepper his chubby cheeks with kisses, each one a testament to the overwhelming love you feel for him.
Harry watches with a tender smile, his eyes shining with pride and adoration.
"Look at you two," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "My heart could burst with how much I love you both."
You laugh through your tears, the exhaustion and elation of the moment blending together in a whirlwind of emotion.
"I love you too, Harry," you say, your voice choked with emotion. "So much."
With trembling hands, you reach for the medal hanging around your neck, the weight of it a physical reminder of the journey you've just completed. Carefully, you drape it around your son's neck, the metal cool against his warm skin.
"There you go, my little marathoner," you say, your voice catching in your throat. "You deserve this just as much as I do."
Harry wraps his arms around you both, holding you close as you bask in the glow of this precious moment.
"I couldn't be prouder of you, love," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.
"You're my hero."
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flemingsfreckles · 3 days
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Perfect To Me (18+)
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: Jessie notices you acting differently, when she learns why, she’s determined to help.
Warnings: body image issues, self deprecation, self consciousness, some self hatred, SMUT (18+), somewhat controlling Jessie, mirror sex, edging, fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap on sex,
WC: 3.0k
Today had just been one of those days, you woke up and felt wrong. It started when you went into the bathroom, seeing two large pimples bright red on your face. Then when you changed you couldn’t help but notice every little detail wrong with your body, stretch marks, scars, blemishes, all of it, you hated it. You tried to get dressed, everything feeling too tight on your body caused you to spiral even further.
Jessie was quick to notice you were off, that morning opting to wear a sweatshirt and pants despite the warm weather. She then noticed at training the way you hurried off to the bathroom to change, unlike normal. She noticed you were frustrated at practice, having a rough day overall it seemed. On the way home you didn’t say anything, silently watching out the window, thinking about everything that went wrong.
“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” She questions you as she throws the car in park in the driveway.
“Don’t want to talk about it.” You dismiss her concerns for you.
Her hand comes over the console and finds its way to your thigh. “Babe, talk to me. You’ve been quiet all day, I’m worried about you.”
You loved Jessie, she had been a perfect girlfriend for the past year, but she was insistent. She always wanted to talk things through, it got on your nerves, sometimes you had to sit in self loathing first. “I feel like shit about myself Jessie! I’m bloated, nothing fits, everything is too tight, everything seems wrong, everyone else is running around with their toned stomachs and perfect legs, I have stretch marks, I have acne, I hate myself.”
“Hey!” Jessie snaps. “You’re not allowed to speak about my girlfriend like that!”
“I can talk about her however the fuck I want to, I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself.” You taunt Jessie as you unbuckled and closed the door hard behind you.
Jessie follows you in the house. She lets you be for the next few hours, keeping her distance knowing you just needed some time alone to work through your feelings. And you worked through those feelings, as best you could, still not loving your body, still annoyed at the way everything fit, but better than you were this morning.
Your uncomfortable feelings with your body fade slightly as the day goes on, you start to forget what a terrible start to your morning you had. You knew you were overreacting, feeling just overwhelmed with the day, you took it out on yourself, you always did. What you didn’t know was Jessie hadn’t forgotten the way you had moved away from the mirror at home, the way she saw you staring for too long at your thighs and stomach, the way you closed yourself in the bathroom at home and at work to change. She was determined to make you feel better, even if you had already done it for yourself.
Which is how she ended up feeling you up as the two of you attempted to watch a movie. The movie is quickly forgotten as she pulls you up onto her lap to straddle her. Her hands on your waist, pulling you into her, encouraging your grinding motion. Your hands run through her curls as your lips slide against each other.
She reaches for your shirt, you nod hard against her, letting her know it was okay to pull it up and over your head. Your self conscious feeling comes back slightly as Jessie’s eyes make their way across your body. She then slides her finger tips into the waistband of your pants.
“Can I?”
“Just touch me already Jess, don’t take them off.” You think you’re being subtle, just hoping she’ll think you’re desperate enough for her touch that she shouldn’t bother taking off your pants. It’s less that you’re desperate and more you didnt feel like being completely naked.
“Okay babe.” Her hand slides past your waistband and pushes aside your panties. “Fuck.” She whispers as she feels the arousal between your lips.
“Please Jess.” Maybe you actually were desperate for her touch. She brings her fingers up to your clit, beginning to play with it exactly how she knew to. Jessie would usually tease a bit, giving you soft touches, moving away for a moment, slowing down, but today she was doing all the right things. It was as if she was trying to get you off as quickly as possible. You ground down onto her fingers, increasing the friction and pleasure.
“Fuck Jessie.”
“You feel so good on my fingers baby.” She groans into you and your grip on her hair tightens.
“Babe I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”
She smirks up at you. “I know.”
“Oh fuck.” You drop your head to her shoulder, letting out a string of moaned profanities from the pleasure of being right on the edge of release. And then you're quickly cursing Jessie as she takes away her fingers, removing them completely from your waistband.
“What the hell?” your head snaps up to look at her.
“Get up.” She taps your thighs and you move off of her reluctantly wishing she would finish what she just started. You were also still pissed that she took away your orgasm.
“Take the rest off and join me in the bedroom.” She looks at you, her eyes are soft, pupils are big. She turns and disappears into your bedroom. You assumed she was putting down the waterproof blanket, her strap, and maybe a few other toys.
Wanting to get your orgasm, you quickly remove your clothing, too focused on getting off that you don’t care as much about being naked. You leave your pants, underwear, and bra on the couch with your discarded shirt. You make your way to Jessie, walking into the bedroom.
Jessie is sitting on the bed against the headboard, she was now just in her sports bra and boxers, legs spread out on the bed. You notice there isn’t a blanket on the bed, she didn’t have out any of the toys you shared. You then noticed the large mirror usually in the corner of your bedroom had been moved to the end of the bed.
“Sit.” She patted the spot between her legs, you obeyed, crawling onto the bed and kneeling between her thighs. You start to move to straddle her, just as you had been on the couch, when she stops you.
“Nope, turn around, back to me.” You turn yourself, you bare back pressing against Jessie’s covered chest. You now realize the placement of the mirror, so you could see the two of you from where you sat together on the bed, Jessie’s head resting just above your shoulder.
“Good girl.” As you get settled where she wanted you Jessie praises you. She uses her arms to uncross your own, removing them from where they hid your chest, pulling them down and placing your hands on her thighs. She then uses her own legs to hook around yours spreading your legs, leaving you completely exposed in front of the mirror. “Now before I help you finish what I started out there, we’re doing this.” She gestures to the mirror.
“Look at yourself.” You don’t follow that instruction. Keeping your eyes glued to the bed sheets, not wanting to see your naked body in the mirror. Jessie gives you a second to look up, when you don’t her hand is hard on your chin, forcing your face up. You close your eyes, “I said, look at yourself.” Her grasp is hard on your face, a grasp that is demanding and slightly harsh.
You do as she says, opening your eyes, only your eyes find her eyes in the mirror, still avoiding looking at your body.
“Babe, don’t make this harder than it should be.” Her whisper is gentle in your ear, a contrast to her harsh grip and tone from before. “Look at my hands if that’s easier.” She adds before she removes her grip from your chin placing her hands on your shoulders.
“See these babe?” She squeezes your shoulders, “I love your strong shoulders and arms, I love how they hold me tight, how they hold me when we dance in the kitchen, I love how they toss me on the bed before you have your way with me. I appreciate your arms everyday.” Her hands rub from your shoulders down to your hands and back up, you watch, keeping your eyes on her hands. Her lips place kisses on each shoulder. “Tell me one thing you love about your arms and shoulders, pretty girl.”
“Um,” your eyes fall for a minute, Jessie’s hand finds your chin, gently pushing it to remind you to look up. “I love that they get to hug you, after a goal when you come and jump into my arms, they get to hold you up.”
“Good job baby.” She turned her head down to you, gently guiding you to kiss her. “Keep being a good girl and you’ll get a reward.”
Her hands then slide down, finding your chest. “Mhhh” she hums as she grasps each of your tits firmly in her hand. Her actions have you letting out a small moan. “I mean I think it’s obvious why I love these, but I love how you react when I touch them, when I drag my tongue over here.” She lets her fingers drag across your nipples making you arch into her touch slightly. “I love how you let me fall asleep with my head on them, they really make the best pillows.” Her hands remain on your chest, she is playing with your nipples and the surrounding skin. “Your turn.” She tells you.
You’re stuck, your shoulders and arms were easy, you didn’t fully despise them, your chest, and frankly the rest of your body was going to be harder.
“I dunno.” You look down. Your hands moved down to start to pick at the skin on your thighs.
“Hey,” Jessie pulls your hands away from where they were picking. “I’ll keep going then. I love the way they look in your sports bra, I love the pretty little noises you make when I play with them, I love how you let me mark them with my mouth, I love-“
“Okay stop.” You gently chew your lip, looking at Jessie through the mirror, her gaze is strong on you. “I like how they look in that yellow top that you like so much.”
“That’s perfect baby.” She gives you a nod and kisses the side of your head.
Her hands trail down. Settling on your waist and stomach. You took a deep breath, eyes still looking at Jessie’s face.
“Look at my hands.” She tells you. You drop your eyes lower, looking at where her hands were spread on your own stomach.
“I love your stomach, your waist. I love being able to hold you tight around the waist, I love how your hips look when you tuck in your jersey,”
“I have stretch marks.” You interrupt her, you don’t mean to but the words just come out. You tense, expecting to get scolded by Jessie. Only she doesn’t scold you, she just calmly starts speaking again.
“Yeah baby, you do.” Her fingers gently drag over the lines you were so insecure about. “But guess what, so does everyone, you’re strong because of those marks, you grew, you’re an athlete, you push this body to the limit everyday. You’re making it stronger, faster, and sometimes that means your muscles grow faster than your skin can keep up, so you get these beautiful marks.”
Her hands slide down to the inside of your thighs where more stretch marks sat. They rest, sitting just above where you still desperately needed her touch.
“Look at these legs baby. So strong, they’re able to carry you running around for hours. You’re able to squat, jump, and run, because of these legs.” Her hand is now on the outside of your thigh. “These legs help carry me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch. These legs piggybacked Sam around for 45 minutes so she could say hi to fans after playing a whole 90’ minutes because she didn’t want to deal with her crutches, these legs score game winning goals.”
Her hands squeeze tight, reassuring but also nearing painful. “Now since we are talking about your strong, muscular, beautiful legs, you owe me something you love about your stomach and your legs.”
“I like that my legs let me play soccer and that they’ve let me travel all over and see incredible things.” You stop and stare at your stomach, looking for something good to say about it. “Um. I like my core because it makes me a better athlete, and it’s useful for other activities.” You give Jessie a knowing look through the mirror. It took you and Jessie only a couple times to learn how much core strength is required to be on the giving end of the strap on you shared.
“That’s perfect, you’ve been such a good girl.” Jessie’s voice suddenly deeper. “You did so well baby. Do you want your reward?”
You nod against her, still making eye contact through the mirror.
“What do you want, baby?” She brings her hands down on your thighs so that her index fingers are sitting in the crease between your thigh and pussy.
“Your fingers. Please.” You were ready for her to fuck you, having edged you just to make you sit for what felt like an hour, staring at yourself in the mirror.
“Of course my love.” She gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Anything for my perfect girl.”
Her hands move, her left moving a finger to your entrance, slowly running in up and down to collect some wetness before she gently pushes it inside of you. It’s only one finger but it feels good with how turned on you are from being edged.
“Add another please Jessie.” You manage to get out.
“Anything for you.” She pushed into you with two fingers thrusting them both gently, curling once they’re deep inside of you. Her right hand now settles with just her middle finger on your clit. Unlike before she starts slow, gently tracing around the bud.
Her mouth starts making its way down your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses along the side, it makes you sigh, you loved the feeling of her lips on your neck, it was always so sensitive, the way she would suck hard enough to feel it but soft enough not to leave a mark. The way Jessie would drag her teeth over your skin, biting you softly knowing you liked the pain. Her mouth on your neck was heaven.
With her mouth pleasuring your neck and her hands between your thighs, it wasn’t long until your legs were shaking and you were moaning Jessie’s name. Feeling yourself reach the edge again you throw your head back, shutting your eyes.
“Eyes open, watch yourself baby, watch yourself feel good.” Jessie’s shoulder nudges your head up. You listen, but instead of watching yourself you make intense eye contact with Jessie.
She removed her hand from your clit and stalls her fingers inside of you just as your legs start to try and close on her hands. You let out a high pitched whine.
“Do you love your body?” She stares at you through the mirror.
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I love my body.”
“Look at yourself when you say it.” Her hand, previously pleasuring your clit, comes up to hold your chin again. You can smell your arousal on her finger tips. Your eyes leave hers and find yourself staring back at you. “Now, tell me you love yourself again.”
“I love my body.” Her hand drops from your chin.
“Again.”
“I love my body.” Her finger finds its way back to your clit, just touching it, not moving.
“Good girl, again.”
“I love my body.” She starts circling with her fingers, pleasure immediately flowing through you again.
“Again baby.”
“I love my body.” Now she’s gently thrusting her fingers again, no where near the force or speed that she had before but it was better then them sitting still inside of you.
“Good girl, one more and I’ll let you cum.”
“I love my body.”
“That’s my girl, you can cum, I promise I won’t tease you this time.” With her promise her fingers inside of you return their vigor from before, immediately feeling yourself clenching tightly around them. Her finger in your clit increases its pressure and you watch yourself fall apart in the mirror. You’re able to watch your orgasm start before the pleasure becomes too much and you have to shut your eyes and throw your head back.
Jessie praises you as she works you through your orgasm. Her words spur you on further, her lips hot against your ear. “That’s it pretty girl, so good, I love making you feel good. You look so pretty cumming around my fingers.”
As you come down from your orgasm you blink your eyes open, finding Jessie’s eyes in the mirror.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“What do you want? A bath? To cuddle? A nap?” Jessie was always attentive with aftercare even if you had vanilla sex, she always checked in, seeing what you needed and you’d return the favor.
“A bath would be nice.” Jessie nods and slides her legs off of yours, finally allowing you to close your legs. She moves off the bed, holding out a hand to you. You get off the bed with her assistance and walk into the bathroom together. Jessie starts running the bath, putting in your favorite lavender soap. She moved to get out a towel for you. When you notice she only grabs one towel you frown at her.
“What's wrong?”
“Can you join me?” You point to the bath, a pout on your face.
“Of course.” Jessie reaches back into the cabinet for another towel. She comes over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, holding you tight. “I love you, you’re perfect.” She whispers.
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jobean12-blog · 2 days
Text
In the Middle of Somewhere
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Word Count: 1,003
Summary: You and Joel are searching for shelter for the night and come across something unexpected.
Author's Note: A few friends have shared the list of 'Reverse Trope Writing Prompts" and I couldn't get over a few of them, especially the "too many beds," one. Thought this would work well with Joel in this setting. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics 🥰thank you! I'll share the list below the cut at the end of the fic.
Warnings: it's fluffy floof and Joel is soft
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Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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The forest seems to holds it’s breath as dusk falls, the rustling leaves and singing birds hushing to a soft murmur. You cling to the fabric of Joel’s flannel, pressed close to his back as he walks cautiously over the dense underbrush.
“How great would it be if we found a treehouse?” you say, trying to keep your voice light even as your eyes dart through the impending darkness.
The trees cast elongated shadows along the ground, their bright green leaves blackening against the deepening purple of the sky.
“I just hope we find somethin’ before the rain,” Joel mutters.
The air is thick with the promise of an oncoming storm and every now and then the distant rumble of thunder echoes through the woods.
You shiver and he stops, turning to look at you with a softness in his eyes.
“Are you cold?”
You swallow hard, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in the safety and warmth of his arms but instead you shake your head no and give him your best reassuring smile.
He studies you, his eyes narrowing and his jaw working hard with the grind of his teeth.
“We’ll find somethin’ soon darlin’.”
After walking for another mile or so you spot a clearing up ahead and you can just make out the outline of several small structures.
“Are those….,” you start, clutching his bicep tighter, “cabins?”
He stops and nudges you behind him.
“Wait here. I’m goin’ to get a closer look.”
“Joel…”
“If anything goes wrong you run.”
Your fingers dig into his arm.
“Darlin’,” he pleads.
He reaches around to run his large hand across your lower back, checking for the gun he gave you.
“Promise me,” he whispers.
“Ok,” you answer after a moment of silence.
He stares for longer than necessary and just as he starts to turn away you grab his face in your hands and softly kiss the corner of his mouth. His eyes are closed with you pull away and when they open again you whisper, “be careful.”
With a nod he quietly moves away from you, motioning to a nearby tree. You move out of sight, your eyes tracking his movement from behind the large trunk as he slowly approaches the cabins.
After what feels like an eternity you see him emerge from the third and last cabin, his steps quick and sure as he walks back to you.
“It’s all clear,” he explains with a relieved exhale. “Let’s take the middle one.”
He takes your hand in his and leads you up the old and worn wooden stairs, glancing around one last time before pushing the door open to reveal an open space with high ceilings and four sets of bunk beds.
“What the…” you trail off, staring unblinking at all the beds.
“Probably a sleepaway camp,” he says with a small sideways smile. “We got lucky.”
You drop your bag to the floor and look around, trying to decide which bed to take and finally picking the top bed of the bunk in the far corner. You step onto the ladder to try it out.
Sturdy.
You throw him a smile and climb up to the top.
“I’ve never slept in a bunk bed before,” you admit.
He’s quiet before replying, “actually, me either.”
Once you’ve had a quick meal you hear the first drop of rain, the rhythm quickly becoming relentless against the wooden roof. Outside, the darkness is dense, the thick rain clouds obscuring almost all the starlight and moon glow.
Lying in bed sleep eludes you as your mind remains alert despite the hour. Each flash of lightning briefly illuminates the cabin, casting eerie shadows that dance across the walls before fading back into darkness.
You toss and turn on the hard wood, searching for comfort.
“Can’t sleep?” Joel asks from the other side of the room.
“No,” you answer softly. “Sorry if I’m keeping you up.”
When he doesn’t answer you let out a quiet sigh and curl your arms around yourself.
The sound of wood creaking makes you sit up with a gasp but when you realize it’s only Joel climbing the ladder you let out a rush of air.
“You could have said you were coming up here,” you tease.
“I’m coming up,” he counters, and even though you can’t see his face you can hear the mirth in his tone.
Your only reply is a light chuckle as you shift over to the far side of the small bed and he climbs in, lying on his side to face you.
“What was wrong with your bed?” you ask.
His hand reaches out across the darkness and closes around your fingers.
“You weren’t in it.”
The palm of your free hand presses to his chest before your fingers curl into his shirt. He tugs you closer, circling one arm around you while the other rests between your bodies, your fingers still entwined with his. When your knee nudges against his he hitches his thigh over yours, surrounding you in exactly what you need.
You nuzzle your face into his neck with a soft inhale then press a delicate kiss just under his jaw. He exhales your name and dips his head to find your lips, capturing them gently at first.
The rain has begun to dissipate and a steady breeze carries the clouds from the sky, revealing the bright moon. It’s light filters through the opaque glass windows, highlighting the features of his face.
At his tentative expression you slowly brush your thumb across his lips, smiling when he kisses the pad of your finger. Your touch continues, tracing his scruffy jaw before taking his face in your hand and bringing his mouth closer.
He presses another gentle kiss to your lips and slides his hand along your waist, tucking you into the curve of his body. A whimper leaves your throat and he groans at the sound, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss and press you harder against him.
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@hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @lizette50
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Text
Yearning Allegations
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Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn
Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?
Paige Bueckers was your best friend.
She was also one of the most popular players on the Uconn Huskies.
Although many loved her, none of them knew her like you did. Most certainly, none of them loved her like you did.
You had known her since the first year of high school, where you two hit it off in English class, teasing her about how slowly she read. She had just shot some stupid comment back at you, and from then on, you two were inseparable - which is why you were sitting courtside at this very moment, happily watching her play.
"And that's time, another win for Uconn!!"
The announcer shouted loud as Paige threw the basketball at the last second, arcing perfectly into the net. She beamed wide as she turned around, her cheeks pink with pride, scanning the crowd for you. Her eyes seemed to shine a little brighter, or so you thought, upon landing on you.
She grinned in your direction, nodding slightly at you, as she ran past you to congratulate her teammates. They tackled her, nearly knocking her over. The crowd's roar was racious in your ears, their shouts nearly as loud as yours. Uconn had won again. You smiled to yourself, Paige was gonna be absolutely insufferable after this. She always was after games like these.
You waited patiently outside the change rooms, scrolling mindlessly on tiktok, waiting for Paige to finish up. Usually, she stayed a few extra minutes afterward, yapping with the team about whatever, and then would come out with KK, jokingly bickering about some nonsense. You hadn't been waiting more than 5 minutes when Paige came bounding out alone, grinning proudly. You grinned back, amused. She was like a 6 ft tall puppy.
"Yooo y/n, did you see me out there??!" Paige threw her arm around you as you guys started the familiar walk to her dorm. After wins, she'd refuse to let you get any work done so you didn't even bother going back to your dorm at this point.
"Yeah, I saw!!" You say, unable to stop yourself from smiling back. Paige's smile was genuinely infectious.
"Dude, I'm the best hooper at Uconn for reallll hahah." Her laughter echos around the hallway.
You roll your eyes and pat the hand she has draped over your shoulder.
"Ehhhh, I think you're alright"
Paige scoffs at you, eyebrows raised.
"Come on, just alright?? You love me, don't lie. " Her eyes are alight with happiness and you fight the corners of your mouth, looking away.
"That play at the end was eh, I've seen better"
Paige rolls her eyes, scoffing yet again before holding the door open for you, leaning against it.
"You're a terrible liar y/n"
Before you can reply, Paige ruffles your hair, and you bat her hand away, complaining. She grabs your hand, and you bodycheck her, but to no avail, cause she takes off running to her dorm just to annoy you on purpose. But you laugh anyway, cause it's so typical Paige.
---
It's only a few days later when you find yourself at an infamous Uconn house party, and the alcohol in your system is making your cheeks feel warm. Your red solo cup of vodka is half empty, and you peer at it, wondering if you should leave your comfy spot on the kitchen counter.
You're admiring Paige from across the room, watching her talk to some fans.
She looks hot as hell tonight, dressed in a black cropped tank top and low waisted baggy black cargo pants. Her middriff is on display, and a tiny bit of her boxers peak out. For a second you wonder about what'd it feel like to put your hands there but you force yourself to stop thinking about her, nails digging into your palms as you take another sip of your drink.
Your feelings for Paige had only intensified over the years, becoming harder and harder to ignore as you two got older. In high school, you could just explain it all away because she was your best friend, but now? You guys had only become closer since starting at Uconn, and these days resisting the urge to make a move was becoming nearly unbearable, especially with the looming fact that everyone and their mother wanted Paige.
Normally, you'd just go over to her and yap her ear off, but the amount of alcohol you've had tonight makes you feel like being around her might be a bit dangerous.
So instead, you just stare from afar, watching her put her arm around the girl who's exclaiming she's "her biggest fan." You roll your eyes, inner monologue already snarkly thinking that Paige gets told that at least once a day.
You're so engrossed in watching Paige take pictures- she's now laughing with the fan over some stupid joke- that you don't notice KK's slid over to you.
"Damn girl, you really ain't beating the yearning allegations huh"
Her voice shocks you out of your reverie, and you glance over at her.
"Huh!?? What do you mean-"
KK's eyes are knowing, and she just raises one brow as she pours herself a new drink.
"Boo, we all see the way you look at her"
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. Although you're pretty sure the whole team already knows how you feel, you still refuse to admit it cause what if that got back to Paige? You want her, but not more than your friendship. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to you two. You resist the urge to do anything about how you feel solely to protect your friendship.. but also because you're scared. What if she doesn't like you like that? It'd probably just make everything awkward anyway.
"I don't know what you're talking about- Paige's just my friend." You keep your voice steady, but your expression darkens as you see the girl is STILL talking to Paige, her hand lingering on Paige's waist as she draws back from a hug.
"Uh huh.. whatever you say, " KK says, leaving the kitchen with her refill.
A few minutes later, you're busy answering some texts when Paige comes over.
"Hey, KK told me you're being all edgy and hiding out in the kitchen instead of having fun at the party. You're scaring off the hoes, dude. "
Paige is always more affectionate than normal when she's drunk, and tonight is no different. She places her hand on your thigh, grinning as she peers at your face, and you look at her for a few seconds before you move off the counter to stand.
"I'm not hiding, I was dancing a bit ago I just got tired-" This is technically not a lie, considering you did dance for a few minutes before deciding to become the next Joe Goldberg.
"Rightttt..." Paige towers over you, an annoying fact that hasn't changed since high school.
You're about to reply with some smart ass answer when some girl walks into the kitchen, cup in hand, her jaw dropping open as she spots Paige.
"Oh my God, Paige Bueckers?!?" The girl's voice raises practically 3 octaves, and you feel so annoyed you resist the urge to just sigh at the sight.
"I love you so much! I was watching you the other day - that final score was so good you really clutched the game-" The girl gushes, her hand resting on Paige's arm. Paige is, of course, grinning broadly. She loves the attention - and you can practically feel a headache coming on from the sound of the girl's voice.
"My head hurts real bad, gonna go back to my dorm-" You murmur as you pass Paige to leave.
"Oh, are you okay?" Her attention is momentarily distracted by your leave, and you try to inject some pep into your voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
---
Authors note: Hope yall don't mind a slowburn! Thought it'd be cute to make a short series <3
Part 2 here
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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 days
Text
Gentleman 🌼💌
Geneticist!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern!Reader
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Synopsis: You're a struggling college student who's managed to land a coveted internship at Alchemax in the Genetics department under Dr. Miguel O'Hara. It's no secret that everyone wants him but you managed to catch his eye. Word count 3.4k
A/N: from a suggestion by @miguelzslvtz 🖤 here ya go! My take on a sugar daddy fic with Miguel in a situationship to lovers trope, with my own little twist on it. If y'all like this enough I'll continue it 🥰 I'm also trying to cook the other ideas that were left on my feedback post I made a little bit ago including a Nerd!Miguel fic and a CEO enemies to lovers eventually ✊🏽 This art by @/blahhberry on Instagram is Dr. O'Hara btw 😏
TW: a little angst, food insecurity, financial struggles, a little bit of bullying, jealousy, relationship between manager and subordinate, I don't recommend this IRL , half ass science stuff, I'm no expert 💀
Part 2
-----
The sharp wind chill in the morning that only lead to a sweltering afternoon began to signal that summer was edging towards the pre autumn season. Miguel took a deep breath in through his nose as he walked down the steps of his grand estate, black Americano in a fancy tumbler in one hand and his phone in the other, listening to his favorite science podcast with wireless earbuds as he smiled and blew one more kiss to Gabi who was waving goodbye on the doorstep next to Conchata.
----
You're running down the florescent halls of the large maze like interior of Alchemax, sweat forming on your forehead and upper lip, flaps of your lab coat floating away from your body like a mad scientist. You're a whooping 40 minutes late for your first day of your genetics internship. Not how you wanted this morning to go at all, simply because you decided to "rest your eyes" five minutes after your alarm went off.
Your outfit you had planned all week didn't look how you envisioned, you had no time to do your hair and makeup, now you were trying not to cry as you prepare yourself mentally to kiss your career goodbye before it even got started. 
Miguel is looking over the shoulder of some of the other interns in the lab, quiet tinkling noises of the lab samples placed under glass microscope lenses and hushed voices with quick scribbles of lead pens on lined notebooks. Soft giggles coming from a neighboring group of a few girls from your sorority that were shamelessly gawking at the older, handsome, tall, brawny geneticist with brown eyes, sneaking photos of him when he wasn't looking to fawn over in their respective group chats. 
All eyes are on you as you enter the quiet lab, and shamefully shuffle to the only unoccupied table which happens to be in the dead front. A pin drops and your heart sinks to your stomach as you're met with an annoyed stare from your intern supervisor. 
Miguel addresses the group he was in the middle of assisting, nodding with a low, "Continue," 
He walks up to your table. Your face burns furiously as you fight back tears, hastily pulling out your notebook, pencils and supplies to get set up. Miguel stops in front of you and you swallow slowly and sniffle as you look your superior in the eye for the first time. 
His broad shoulders and tall height give him an aura of seriousness and slight intimidation. His eyes are deep brown and seemingly bottomless, mesmerizing, a hint of softness in them despite everything else about him that portrayed sternness underneath his narrow frame glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose. A shadow of stubble peppers his strong jaw and runs down his thick neck, a very faint streak of grey runs along the corners of his brunette locks. He rolls up the sleeves of his lab coat on his thick forearms, eyes flickering to his clipboard and then back to you. 
"Name?" He asks. 
Your mouth dries momentarily at the pleasant low timbre of his voice, but you quickly answer, hoping your first impression isn't completely unsalvageable at this point. 
He nods and shifts a microscope towards you, along with your lab sample testing kits. "Since everyone else is already partnered up, I will be your partner for this first project." He clicks his pen, stowing it gracefully in his lab coat breast pocket, swiftly unloading the samples from the kit onto the table, prepping them. 
"Firstly, I am Dr. O'Hara. I'm the head intern supervisor for the Genetics department at Alchemax. Today, we are identifying and labeling these samples in various stages of cell division for my research groups that I oversee." He explains. "You should be fairly familiar with these, correct?" 
You feel the heat but you nod enthusiastically, determined to turn this day around and prove him wrong and show him that you're just as deserving to be here as anyone else; you just had a stroke of bad luck. You eagerly take over and adjust the microscope lense for the first sample and bring your eye to it, squinting and then quickly writing down the label in your notebook for the first sample: "That's...anaphase." You state confidently. 
Miguel looks at you while you write, leaning towards you a little bit and shifting the microscope closer to him, a faint whiff of his scent rolling off his arms for a brief moment, catching you off guard. He looks into the microscope without a word then nods, the corners of his eyes softening, removing the annoyed glare they held earlier when he first looked at you. "That's right." He affirms. 
Another hour passes, and you both manage to complete all of the samples you were assigned in the nick of time, wrapping up the final sample two minutes after the internship was due to end, just a tad late due to the delayed start you got compared to your fellow lab mates.
As you worked, Miguel took note of how you seemed to work slower than the others, yet you were more cautious. You were meticulous and a bit of a perfectionist, taking lots of time to ponder and even verify anything you weren't sure of by asking Miguel and following up with any additional questions you had that were spawned as a result. He liked that you were thoughtful and inquisitive. You were humble and demonstrated you could work hard to get things done. 
As you hastily packed your bag, closing it with a loud zip, Miguel cleared his throat. "Well done today... I'm impressed you could manage to complete the same work load as your colleagues, despite having less time to do it." 
"Oh-thank you, sir." You nod, giving him a modest smile. "I try to work hard at what I do." 
"It shows." He nods, removing his thin glasses and hanging them on the front of his shirt, the weight of the glasses barely tugging his shirt down, revealing a little more of his neck, accentuating his broad chest. "Just, do not be late again.....ever, okay?" He looks at you sternly, his expression as he waits for your confirmation almost as though he was begging you to keep this promise. 
"I won't, Dr..." 
"O'Hara." 
"Dr. O'Hara." You say confidently, standing up a little taller. "You can count on me." You state firmly. 
He nods, the corner of his mouth ever so subtly revealing the ghost of a smile. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow." 
"See you tomorrow." 
----- 
You set nearly 10 consecutive alarms for the next day, waking bright and early to get dressed and do your hair and makeup just how you wanted it.
 You let out a deep breath, a comforting smile on your face as you paced yourself down the street, enjoying the morning and much more confident and at peace with yourself knowing you looked good and you weren't going to let Dr. O'Hara down by being late. 
Your stroll is interrupted by a loud growl of your stomach. You groan and check your phone. You had plenty of time to grab a small item for breakfast from the bodega on the way. You beeline in the other direction, backtracking momentarily to go satisfy your hunger. 
You feel a pit in your stomach when you realize what day it is and rip out your phone, your heart sinking to your chest when you see that $800 withdrawal of your student tuition posted to your checking account. You scroll with a shaky hand, pulling up your calculator and doing the math after two of your other pending transactions went through. You were left with a whooping $7 to your name, and you weren't going to get paid for another week.
 Shit...shit...
Normally, you had a handle on your finances, but a couple of emergencies came up where you had to visit the doctor, buy your medicine, and also buy another textbook that one of your professors neglected to mention was required for the class. That, along with your tuition, and maybe a couple more iced coffee runs than you should have left you with barely nothing to survive on until your next payday. 
But with the way your stomach is utterly growling right now, you'll just have to find a way to deal with it later. You order your usual breakfast sandwich from the bodega and sprint down the sidewalk, making haste for Alchemax. 
-----
Miguel is about to enter the lab, shrugging into his lab coat when he hears chattery whispers coming from behind the door. He stops for a moment when he thought he heard his name, inching closer so as not to reveal his presence, leaning against the door. 
You're being interrogated by some of your fellow interns, the group of girls that were oogling Dr. O'Hara the day before and also your fellow sorority members: Heather, Vivian, and Isla. They're pelting you with a million questions a minute, expecting a full report on what it was like working with him yesterday and trying to dig up any information about his personal life. 
"Ugh, I wish he would've spent time with our group yesterday instead. No offense, of course," Heather says. 
You shrug, going back to writing little notes in your notebook, reviewing your work from yesterday. 
"How come you're so quiet?" Vivian prods. "Seriously, you haven't like hung out with us at all and barely talk to us." 
"She thinks she's better than us," Heather answers. The group snickers at that. 
"No..." You protest, looking down in embarrassment, doing your best to try and shrug off their pestering comments. 
"Girl there's no need to deny it, O'Hara had his eyes on you yesterday. He was obsessed."  Vivian teases. 
Your cheeks get hot as you look back at your notepad. Yes, Dr. O'Hara was easy on the eyes, no denying that. But he would have never thought of you that way in a million years. You were there for an internship, end of story. You had only barely managed to save this opportunity from burning and crashing to the ground a day before.
 You knew you'd have to put in double the amount of work as everyone else did to prove yourself. There was simply no time nor room to dwell on how handsome the man was. A dangerous road you knew you needed to stay clear of, no matter how the other girl's comments were starting to get to you, a tiny whisper nudging your ego at the fact that it did seem like he had something of an interest in you. 
"Sharing is caring, girl." The group's leader, Isla, pops her gum with a little smirk on her glossy lips. "Next time you get a chance, ask him if he's married and report back to us on what you find out." 
Your face heats up. "Are you kidding, you ask him, Isla! The man barely tolerates me. I'm not gonna wind up on his bad side just because you guys want me to be nosy..."
At that very moment, Miguel abruptly enters the lab, taking his place upfront like he normally does, leaving behind a swift cloud of his scent hanging in the air as he brushed past your table, with everyone unaware that he heard every word that was said about him prior to his entrance. 
"Good morning." He says in a pleasant tone, addressing the entire group. "We will be doing more sample identifying work today. Why don't we break into the same groups as last time. Since we have an odd number of folks, I'll have you work with me again." He looks directly at you. 
You can feel envious pairs of eyes burying themselves into the back of your head as you sit side by side next to Dr. O'Hara again, clicking your pen every once in a while, coloring a black dot into the corner of your paper out of passive boredom while Miguel worked alongside you. 
Miguel was slightly turned off by the comments he heard about him from your colleagues, finding the whole exchange unprofessional. He needed focused, dedicated interns who prioritized the work in front of them they needed to get done, not fantasize about him. 
Frankly, it put him in an awkward position and he really didn't want to deal with it altogether. He looked at you as you silently labeled and notated one sample after another, barely speaking to him and your eyes locked on your own paper. 
"So, what caused you to apply to this internship in the first place?" He asks. 
You look at him, caught off guard by the sudden question. "Oh, well I'm going to school for Biology. I'm wanting to apply to med school." 
"Really?" Miguel responds. "That's commendable." He goes back to his task, longer moments of silence passing between you two. 
You turn around and you notice Isla and the others mouthing something to you. You try to mouth "What?" back to them then Miguel interrupts you, causing you to jump in alarm. 
"Hmm, what?" 
"I asked, are you here on a scholarship?" Miguel responds nonchalantly, his eyes locked on a sample under the microscope. 
"Oh, no I'm not, unfortunately." You fiddle with a button on your lab coat. "I have student loans that I'm trying to pay back." 
Miguel hums quietly in response, taking in your answer. "That must be a heavy burden with such an expensive field you're going into." 
"Yeah..." You sigh. "It is. Sometimes I have to pick between paying my bills or eating lunch," you joke half-heartedly. 
Your stomach growls loudly and you grab your stomach in alarm, hoping he didn't hear it. 
Miguel looks at you in his peripheral vision, a slight hint of amusement on his face at the sound, finding it kind of funny that you seemed so embarrassed of a natural bodily process. "Speaking of lunch, sounds like it's getting close to that time... " Miguel remarks casually. 
You nervously try to laugh it off, your face still a higher temperature. "Yeah, haha...for sure." 
Miguel nods towards the brown paper sack sitting on the table. "Why don't you step out for a moment, have a bite to eat?" 
"Oh..um." You try to play it off like you don't want it but Miguel remains unconvinced. 
"Go on, I'll take these next few since you did the last three." 
Your stomach growls loudly again and you stand up swiftly, not needing anymore convincing to take care of your raging hunger, taking the paper bag with you. 
When you step into the hallway, your face utterly falls in disappointment when you realize the bodega gave you the wrong sandwich. It's a Reuben with sauerkraut. Your stomach groans in misery and you go to unwrap the sandwich regardless, hoping your desperation will make it easier to get over your dislike. A wave of nausea hits you at the smell. 
You simply can't bring yourself to eat it, and it's time to head back anyway. You try to walk with watery eyes back towards your table with the brown paper bag still in hand, heart in the gutter because your last $7 is gone and you have nothing to eat but disappointment and desperate wishes for better circumstances. 
Miguel's eyebrows raise as he watches you swiftly grab your things and leave the room without saying goodbye. Miguel walks back to his desk and notices your brown paper sack sitting there with a little sticky note on it.
"Dr. O'Hara- thank you for your help today." 
Miguel frowns and opens the bag, his eyes widening at the sight. Reubens are his favorite. He takes a deep whiff, relishing the smell of the corned beef and melted Swiss with the Russian dressing and sauerkraut. This must have been a sandwich from a bodega because the bread smells and feels like it was baked only a few hours ago. Miguel looks at your handwriting on the note and then back at the door you just walked out of. 
He feels a pang of guilt. While he greatly appreciated and relished the unexpected treat, you just gave up your lunch, and based on that comment you made earlier about your loans being so much that you had to choose between your debt and eating, he was starting to get worried about your well-being. 
"Lyla? I need y/n's student loan records from the financial department. Have them on my desk in an hour." 
"You got it, Migs." 
-----
You entered your dorm, trying to hide your tears and dodge interrogation from Heather, Vivian, and Isla. 
"Hey, you." 
You pause, with a sigh, turning to meet Isla's burning stare.  "Yeah?" 
"Girl, so...is he married?" 
"I didn't ask." You rub your temples. 
"Oh my god...you had one job!" 
"Look, y'all, I don't mean to be rude. But I just had thee shittiest day of my life and I have no food until next week. Wondering about whether our SUPERVISOR is married or not is not at the top of my list of concerns right now." 
The groups looks at one another, taken aback. "Dude...calm down, we were just curious, it's not that deep. So dramatic..." Heather grumbles.
"It's okay y'all, I'm gonna make him fall in love with me, just watch." Vivian jokes. 
"No me!" Isla shouts. 
The three of them banter back and forth and you turn, huffing towards your room. 
"But really wtf does he even see in her? Like why pay attention to the most boring person in the room when we're right there..." Isla mutters once you're out of earshot. 
You lay down in bed, too distraught to study and cry yourself to sleep.
-----
Two hours later, your eyes ease open, your pillow slightly wet with drool after a good post-cry nap. 
A missed call from your college shows up on your phone. 
Confused, you return the call. 
"Student Services how can I help you?" 
"Hi, I'm a student...I have a missed call from you guys." 
"Student ID?" 
"27872099"
"Yes...we were calling you back about a credit to your account. It looks like that was fully settled this afternoon, and a refund has been issued back to your checking account that you have linked to your student account." 
You blink. "Um, okay...but there was a balance of $10,130.70 this morning, and you guys took out the 850, so...what, there's probably a little over 9k remaining?" 
"That was paid in full, along with an additional $1000.00 so actually that extra credit should be refunded to you and posted in 1-2 business days depending on your institution." 
Your brow furrows. You look back at your bed then at the ceiling, trying to figure out if you were still sleepy. "Is this some kind of practical joke?" 
"Excuse me?" 
"I mean, that's ten thousand dollars we're talking about. And you're telling me that all of it was just magically erased this afternoon?"
"I can send you the statement if you would like, ma'am." 
"Yes, please. Because something doesn't sound right about all of this." 
"Very well...and your email is still valid?" 
"Yes. Thank you." 
You hang up and pace in your room until the email notification comes through. You blink in disbelief, sitting down on your bed with shaky knees when you see that sure enough, a whooping payment of $11,130.70 was applied. 
----
Balance: $10,130.70 
Debit card payment ending in xxxxx2099 $11,130.70
Ending balance = $-1,000.00
Credit issued for: $1,000.00 to checking account ending in xxxxxx4890
----
You scoff in sheer disbelief, a feeling of elation rising in your body. At that moment, your doorbell rings. 
An annoyed Heather calls you downstairs. 
You run to the door, your footsteps shaky under the shock of your debt being erased and becoming one thousand dollars richer in one day, mind still buzzing with the news. 
A confused man is waiting at the door with a large bouquet of a gorgeous assortment of roses and daisies and a large bag of takeout from your favorite upscale restaurant, asking for you. 
You nod slowly with a raised eyebrow and he hands your goodies over to you. Your mouth falls open at the small card attached to the bouquet, your name etched in silver cursive letters and a small message typed in black lettering. 
Thank you for the sandwich and for your diligent work for my department. Enjoy. 
- Dr. O'Hara
-----
274 notes · View notes
alexias-putellas · 6 hours
Text
are you sure? // barça femení x teen!reader
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barça femení x teen!reader
this request came in not long after that game and i still have a lot of feelings about it. here is me working through them.
warning: mentions of a panic attack but that’s all
-
are you sure?
you were so sure when alexia asked. when jona asked. when ingrid asked. when lucy asked. when marta asked. when mapi asked. even when sweet vicky asked.
you might’ve only been seventeen like her but you were so sure that you wanted to take the last penalty. it wasn’t your first and your track record for pentalties was impressive. so yeah, you were absolutely sure that you wanted to take the last one.
you grabbed the ball from cata and placed it on the floor, walking backwards a few steps to get a good run up. the whistle blew and you only took a few seconds before kicking it as hard as you could and really it felt like everything was happening in slow motion.
the reaction from hannah hampton, the roar of the chelsea fans as she swatted the ball away like it was a measly fly, the noise of the chelsea players as they ran over to their goalkeeper to celebrate making it into a champions league final.
you hadn’t moved, frozen to the spot as what just happened swirled and registered in your head. tears burned in your eyes but you blinked them away. arms wrapped around you and you could faintly hear the murmurs of vicky and esmee but you didn’t know what they were saying. you didn’t look at them. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at the more senior members of the team.
it was alexia and mapi’s first champions league since returning properly from injury and deep down you knew that it was probably the last champions league for some of the others and you’d gone and thrown it away.
time seemed to move very slowly and you must’ve been running on autopilot because the next time you blinked, you were curled up in a seat on an unusually quiet bus. you were acutely aware of ingrid sitting next to you and the fact that mapi was somewhere close by. but you didn’t remember coming off the pitch or getting changed or even getting on the bus.
when the bus came to a stop outside the hotel, you were quick to grab your bag and shoot off it, hanging back a little bit to wait for jana who was supposed to be your roommate for the night.
but your arm was tapped and you turned to see mapi, a small smile on her face. “you are with us tonight, nena.”
you nodded, feeling a little bit relieved. you loved jana but you knew that she’d probably make you talk about what happened whereas mapi and ingrid would give you space to process it.
so you trailed behind the couple as the three of you made your way through the hotel. you immediately sat on the bed that looked untouched, automatically assuming that the two were already sharing the other bed.
ingrid didn’t have the heart to tell you that as per the rules, they hadn’t been sharing a bed but she was certain that bending the rules for you wouldn’t be an issue.
you didn’t get any sleep that night, tossing and turning before ultimately staring at the ceiling. the penalty played over and over in your head like a movie. a never ending movie.
after a few more minutes of growing irritability, you sat up and threw the covers off you. quietly, you creeped over to the window and leaned your forehead against the cool glass, staring into the lightening sky.
the light of your phone reflected but you didn’t move to look at it. why would you? it wasn’t going to be anything good. a tear dropped onto your arm before you even noticed you were crying. you harshly wiped at your eyes. you had no right to cry or be upset. the others did but not you.
it was your fault after all.
your mind wandered. what would’ve happened if someone else had taken the last penalty? what if you’d taken an earlier penalty? what if you didn’t take one at all? should you have taken one at all?
suddenly you weren’t so sure.
ᡣ𐭩
you sobbed softly into bagheera’s fur, the thought of going into training making you sick to your stomach.
as soon as you’d stepped foot back in barcelona, you’d retreated into your room at mapi and ingrid’s place and never came out. you didn’t answer your phone, you didn’t post anything on your social media’s. you didn’t do anything. the only people you’d interacted with being the couple who had opened their home to you but even that was rare.
if you had a choice, you’d have chosen to slowly integrate yourself back with the girls. but you didn’t have a choice. you had to go back to training, being thrown straight into the deep end with people who probably hated you and in your eyes, they had every right to do so.
you could hear mapi and ingrid moving around and chattering quietly and when footsteps got a little too close, you held your breath, swallowing your sob. there was a soft knock at the door then.
“nena?” mapi’s soft voice sounded through the door and you sat up slightly. she wasn’t going to come in, you knew that. “we are leaving in five minutes.”
those simple words had you burying your face further into the cat’s soft fur. you took deep breaths, willing yourself not to cry again. with a sense of hesitation, you let bagheera go and slipped off your bed. once you were sure the spaniard had left, you snuck into the bathroom.
your reflection made you wince. you weren’t going to be able to cover up those bags. and the splotchiness on your face didn’t seem to budge when you splashed yourself with water.
with a heaved sigh, you grabbed your stuff from your room and granted bagheera his freedom, following behind him as he darted straight to mapi.
truthfully neither mapi or ingrid thought you’d actually attend training so they’d already pre-warned jona and alexia of your potential absence.
but then you walked into the living room, training bag on your shoulder and a tired look on your face.
“ready elskling?” ingrid asked softly and you nodded.
the short drive to the training centre left you filled with more dread. and when mapi pulled up, you muttered something about needing to use the bathroom before running faster than you ever had.
your bag fell to the floor as soon as you’d reached your destination. your hands gripped the edge of a sink as you willed yourself to breathe. but nothing seemed to work.
you sunk to your knees, head pressed against the cool ceramic as your breathing worsened.
tears spilled down your cheeks, a feeling of dread growing worse with each passing second, and you wanted—needed to calm down. ingrid or mapi would soon raise the alarm that you still weren’t there and someone would come looking for you.
the thought of being late and potentially making the others late made you feel even worse. and you somehow sobbed between your staggered breaths.
the reasons to hate you kept piling up and you wondered how long it would be until you did something truly unforgivable. well you supposed you already had.
the door opened and again, time seemed to slow down for you. you were extremely aware of the arms wrapped around you, the hand rubbing your back soothingly, and the voice quietly encouraging you to breathe.
and then you were all on the floor, sitting in silence. a terrible, deafening silence. alexia, ingrid, and frido had never seen you look so small and childlike, a harsh reminder for them that that’s exactly what you were. a child. who appeared to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.
“it is okay, nena,” alexia said softly. your jaw clenched a little but you said nothing. “you are young. we all made mistakes when we were young.”
you held back the urge to laugh in her face. whilst that may have been true, you seriously doubted that any of them had single-handedly threw away a chamipions league semi-final.
“we win as a team and we lose as a team,” frido added on. “we are a family.”
“and without you we wouldn’t have even made it to penalties. you got us there elskling.”
you nodded but made no move to speak or even look at them, having kept your eyes trained on your linked hands.
it quickly became very obvious that you were still not in the mood for social interactions but the three held a little hope in their hearts as you scampered behind them to get ready for training.
the session wasn’t too bad. you did what you were supposed to do with minimum fuss and you kept to yourself. maybe giving vicky and esmee a small smile every now and then.
to them, it was progress. to you, it was nothing. merely a gesture of goodwill to show them that they were in your good books. you still didn’t speak though and ingrid’s words circled your mind. she was right, you were the reason barcelona had even made it to penalties but you were also the reason barcelona lost out and you knew which one was being spoken about all the time.
when you returned home with mapi and ingrid, you went straight to your room, placing yourself into the bay window and staring down at the busy street below. soft knocks sounded and the door opened, bagheera’s quiet meow drawing your attention. you glanced over your shoulder to see mapi stood there, two cups of coffee in her hands.
she motioned to the space next to you and you barely nodded, eyes on the soft cat as he jumped onto your lap. the spaniard carefully placed the cup into your hand. you brought it up to your lips, sipping it slowly. “good?”
“yes, thank you.” you whispered.
it silent again, something you’d actually grown quite fond of. mapi’s presence was comforting in a way but you knew she was still mad at you so when she spoke up again, you told her what she wanted to hear.
“you are okay nena, right?” she asked but the concern in her eyes wasn’t noticed by you and you nodded, desperate for her to leave so you could cry in peace. “estas segura?”
“i’m sure.”
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