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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

Text

he lives in you

Characters: Leona, Floyd, Jamil, Lilia

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 2.4k+

Notes: uh i was practicing Japanese and researching Japanese names before writing this, so all my name ideas ended up in japanese? if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe

right in time for mother's day, so here's to a celebration of the motherly figures in our lives, blood related or not, for being there for us<3

Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Hina (日来) with 日 meaning "sun, day" and 来 meaning "coming, future"

Leona reminded you of a shining sun that radiated warmth and light in your life, of how the it would surely shine again no matter how dark the night seemed, and so you named your daughter after that image

your daughter has the clearest emerald eyes and flowing dark brown locks that you often braided in a similar style to her father's

she's very energetic, always curious and asking questions, eager to learn more about the world around her

she's an obedient child, although she's eager to seek your affection and may whine a bit when things don't go her way

if there was one thing that was similar to the Leona you knew, it's that she's extremely clingy and constantly seeks physical affection, hugging your legs and asking for you to carry them any chance she has

and also the fact that she enjoyed her naps a bit too much

her lion ears are a bit of an issue in our world, but you often hide them with hoods, clever hair styling, or simply saying it's a costume

when you told her about the brilliant man her father is, she grew really excited about the possibility of meeting him, and started playing around with magic more to be like the intelligent mage he is

and then it happened, just an ordinary afternoon practicing magic had the two of you transported back to twisted wonderland, face to face to Leona

somehow, he had grown even more handsome in the years you hadn't seen him, but instead of his lazy smile, he looked confident and powerful, like the leader he was always meant to be

A sudden gust of magic swept through the air behind him as he raised his staff in response, only to immediately drop it in shock as your figure came into sight, and beside you, a small child that he had never seen before.

"Herbivore..." he whispered.

Without a second thought, Leona rushed towards you, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he reached out to embrace you tightly.

"This better not be a dream," he murmured into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. "It's really you."

after a tearful reunion and introduction, Leona quickly excuses himself from his duties with a quick meeting with Falena, and helps you and Hina settle into the palace

since you left, Leona's been working hard to do what he can do as per your promise with him

he's now in charge of foreign affairs and on better terms with his brother after much needed communication

he showers you in affection, he's even clingier than before that it almost starts a rivalry with your daughter

he puts in a lot of effort to spend time with Hina, learning her likes and dislikes and bonding over magic

uncle jack and ruggie are always fun to be around and play with her

though it wasn't his fault, leona feels guilty you had to bare the responsibility on your own for so long, and he puts in a lot of effort to make amends for any mistakes work to build a strong relationship with you two

he has a family now, and you're damn sure he'll protect it with his life

Leona looked down at Hina, feeling a sense of pride and wonder at the little girl standing before him. "Hey there," he said, his voice gentle. "Nice to meet ya, kiddo."

Hina stared at him, her eyes searching his face. "Are you my dad?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Leona's heart ached at the question, knowing that he had missed so much of her life. "Yeah, I'm your dad," he said, reaching out to take her hand.

Hina looked at him for a moment before a smile spread across her face. "Can you show me magic?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Leona felt a sense of joy at her words, feeling a connection with her that he had never felt before. "Of course I can," he said, standing up and taking her hand. "What do you wanna see?"

Sakura (桜) meaning "cherry blossoms"

your daughter has sleek teal hair that reminds you of the sea, a single strand of dark hair, and mismatched eyes in the same manner as Floyd

Floyd had lovingly given you the nickname "Shrimpy", and it only felt right for your daughter to be named Sakura, after the tiny sakura-shrimp

she's incredibly mischievous and there's not a moment of silence with her, she's spontaneous and playful and you've got your hands full

though she is very considerate of you and will listen to your words, she's uncontrollable when she's bored and in need of a spark of interest

she's also a squeezer, much like her father, and hugs you every time she sees you or anyone she likes, and you're thankful her strength hasn't developed too much yet

she enjoys biting you, albeit gently, and you find your arms littered with bite marks, but it's her unique way of showing affection

her eel form won't show unless she's been in the water for too long (thankfully), and she enjoys squeezing you in her eel form even more

ever so curious, she's asked about her father many times, and you've told her how carefree and easygoing her father is, and that he'd love her the moment she saw her

which leads you to her magic actually teleporting you to him, her spontaneous idea having manifested itself, and you found in a dimly lit room similar to the Mostro Lounge

Floyd looked matured, his hair sleeked back and his features sharpened, though his wry smile that you loved had stayed the same

Floyd's eyes widened with shock and disbelief, and his steps quickened as he rushes towards you, his long arms outstretched in a gesture of longing. As he got closer, he noticed the beautiful and curious-looking child standing close to you.

"Shrimpy?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No way... It's really you!"

Floyd pulled you close, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go. "I missed ya so much, I wish I hadn't let ya go," he said, his voice choked with emotion as tears threatened to spill. "You're not allowed to leave again, okay?"

Floyd is so ecstatic he can't stand still, once he's calmed down a bit, be immediately carries Sakura and drags you to Jade and Azul

Azul and Jade are pleasantly surprised at your return, and it's a warm welcome back

the two of them are glad Floyd won't be moping any time soon

the trio have now expanded into a franchise and divulged into many businesses, though Floyd largely acts as Azul's right-hand man

Now that you're back, he refuses to be apart from you, always holding onto you tightly and afraid you might disappear just like how suddenly you appeared

he does get mood swings where he's upset or angry, not at you though, just at how unfair things were and how he couldn't be there for you

he's a good eel who does everything to make sure you and Sakura are happy and comfortable, often cooking meals for you two

he's so curious about Sakura and enjoys playing with her and lifting her high up in the air

don't worry, he's extremely careful, this precious gem is why you got back to him!

Jade is the best uncle and Sakura wants to marry him??? (honestly same)

poor Azul is getting pranked by the daughter- father duo, though Sakura does comfort him afterwards with squeezes and kissss

Floyd looked down at Sakura, and he saw her staring back at him with wide, curious eyes in the opposite colours of his eyes. Though she resembled him physically, there was an air about her that was so distinctly his Shrimpy.

"Heya," Floyd said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm your dad."

Sakura giggled and reached out to him, her tiny hands grasping at his hands. Floyd froze, not sure what to do, letting her yand his hand forward. But then, she opened her mouth and bit down on finger.

"Hey!" Floyd cried, pulling back in surprise.

Sakura just laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Floyd couldn't help but laugh too, despite the pain in his finger.

"Yer a feisty one, aren't ya, Sakura-shrimpy?" he teased, grinning down at her as he ruffled her hair. "You know," he whispered, "you can't just go around biting people like that. But I like your style."

Isami (功己) 功 meaning "achievement, credit, honour, merits" and 己 meaning "self, serpent, snake."

your son has smooth ebony locks and sharp grey eyes that make him look slightly intimidating

Jamil had shown you how much he valued his achievements over his social status, so you chose a name the could embody him

he's a quiet child who's always attentive and careful

he's rather shy in front of other people, but when it's you he'll soak up all of your affection and stare at you with longing eyes seeking praise

he's a cute helper at home too! he always volunteers to help you with chores and cook in the kitchen, though you're careful he's not close to anything sharp or dangerous

he does have an inherent fear of bugs, something he's inherited from Jamil, but thankfully you've taught him to be less destructive than his father

do expect screams and for him to be crying as a little fly chases him around though

he's incredibly smart and talented at magic, easily grasping the concepts of magic you can only teach him theoretically

when you told him about his father, you've told him about the diligent man that his father is, and how would let his guard down around those he treasured

he had listened quietly without much of a change in his expression, but you could tell there was a bubbling excitement building up in his eyes

and no long after that, he managed to teleport the two of you to a warm, airy room of marble walls

Jamil's features had sharpened, he seemed more openly confident and comfortable with himself

Jamil's heart skipped a beat as he saw you. It had been five years since he bid your farewell at the mirror chamber and lost you forever. And yet here you were standing here in front of him with a child in tow, a child who resembled him so much.

"It can't be..." he murmurs.

Without hesitation, Jamil dropped all the papers and rushed towards you, his heart pounding furiously. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still. He could see the love and longing still shining in your eyes, and he knew deep down that he had never stopped loving you.

Jamil couldn't stop the tears that began streaming down his face. "I've missed you so much," he said, his voice raspy. "Letting you go is the worst decision I've ever made." He reached out and pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms shaking with emotions.

he's a bit overwhelmed but still so thankful you're back in his life

Kalim barges in at this time and exclaims in surprise at your return and ??? OMG JAMIL YOU HAVE A SON?!!

Jamil has half a mind to dissuade him from holding a banquet immediately to welcome you back, and instead take things slow to not overwhelm you or Isami

asks Kalim for some privacy and the second he's away, he melts into your embrace

he hasn't felt so at ease in so long

if he wakes up in the morning and you're not right there beside him, he's panicking and searching all over the place for some confirmation you're still here

he's very curious about Isami and asks him all sorts of questions to piece together his development and personality

they definitely have a rivalry over who's braver over bugs but it just ends up with the two hugging you for safety

he's a bit awkward with how careful he is with his emotions, so it takes Isami some time to fully trust him

but trust me, Jamil will go above and beyond for his family and there's no way Isami will have to endure what Jamil did in his childhood

Jamil's eyes widened in surprise and wonder. He couldn't believe that they had created a life together. He knelt down to the Isami' eye level and looked into his eyes. "Hello there," he said, his voice gentle and warm. "What's your name?"

Isami starred back at him, his eyes wide with distrust and caution before he buried his face in your legs. Jamil chuckled softly. "It's okay," he comforted. "You don't have to be shy around me. I'm your dad."

Isami looked up at him again, this time with a mix of curiosity and wonder. "Daddy?" they said, testing the word out.

Jamil smiled warmly as nodded, his heart swelling with love and joy. "Yes, daddy," he parroted. "And I promise I'm never going to leave you or your mommy again."

Yuri (百合) meaning "lily"

Lilia's name always reminded you for lily flowers, and what better name for your daughter to embody him?

your daughter has straight raven hair with some of the hair flipping upwards resembling two horns, angular fae ears, and bright crimson eyes

she's always up for pranks and mischief, it's rare to see her without a smile

she loves exploring places, if you keep your eyes off her for one second, she's letting her curiosity take her to whatever she wants

if you're serious and stern though, she will listen to you, she wouldn't dare make her mother upset!

she's friendly with everyone and isn't shy to say hi to neighbors or absolute strangers

she's not overly affectionate, but she definitely enjoys hugs and kisses from you

she has an odd habit of taking stray animals back home in an attempt to adopt them, so you have little adventures with her trying to find an owner

do not let her in the kitchen

she has surely inherited her father's cooking abilities, somehow, she can render even a piece of toast beyond human consumption

magic comes as second nature to her, and she's always standing on ceilings

gosh her eyes absolutely sparkled when you told her about the teasing and mischievous fae that is her father

and soon, the portal opened and you found yourself in a gothic castle lit up by green candles

He's a lot taller, his hair longer and reaching his waist, and more enchanting than ever

Lilia stood in shock as your family figure come into sight. In all his years of living, he had never been so utterly stunned. After all these years, you had finally returned to him.

"Beastie..." Lilia gasped, his voice catching in his throat.

With a surge of energy, Lilia broke free from the trance-like state and hurried towards you, his hair streaming behind him like a dark flag as he enveloped you tightly in his embrace. "After all these years, you've truly come back to me?"

Carefully, Lilia held you at arm's length, studying your matured features, etching them into his memory like a cherished work of art. His eyes traced the lines and contours of your face, memorizing every detail that time had etched upon you.

"My, how you've grown," Lilia murmured, a mix of pride and wistfulness coloring his words. "The years have shaped you into a remarkable individual."

it's family reunion time!!!

he immediately drags you to the throne room where malleus, silver and sebek are

malleus is now king with two incredibly reliable bodyguards, and Lilia's his most trusted advisor

malleus is so glad his dear human friend is back, silver is satisfied that his father will have someone to be with, and sebek is screaming about Yuri, though she enjoys his loudness

for a while, Lilia is extremely affectionate, trying to make up for all the years that had gone by

when you're sleeping together at night, he hugs you tightly and it's difficult to leave his embrace

he definitely tries to cook for you two, going on and on about how the two of you need to stay healthy and need lots of nutrients

you always volunteer your portion for Yuri, and she'll gladly eat whatever her father has cooked for her

silver is an older brother often on babysitting duty, and Yuri loves watching him spar with sebek and also wants to learn

Sebek is quite fond of Yuri, and he sees his half-fae self in her

Lilia is always trying to fun with Yuri, bouncing her high up in the air and teaching her to hang upside down and swing around

plans so many family vacations, he can't wait to be exploring places with his two darlings

"Is she... ours?" Lilia asked. At your nod, he reached out to caress Yuri's cheek, his touch gentle as if he were touching fragile porcelain.

"Well, I'll be damned," Lilia chuckled, his voice cracking with emotion. "I never thought I'd be a father again. But I'm glad to meet you, little one. What's your name?"

Yuri giggled and and beamed at his touch. "My name's Yuri," she said, her voice sweet as honey.

"Yuri," Lilia repeated, his heart swelling with emotion. "What a beautiful name for my beautiful girl," he reached up to fondle her hair. "You know, Yuri," Lilia said, his voice growing serious. "I may not have been there for you when you were born, but I promise I'll always be here for you from now on. No matter what happens, I'm your father, and I'll always love you darling."

Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

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f1byjessie · 3 months

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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part one.

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yourusername a smiley lando is the best lando in my books! to celebrate the end of the 2023 season, here's a handful of my favourite photos from throughout the year!

view all 3,171 comments

mclaren What a happy lad! We can't wait to see that smile again in 2024 😁🧡

↳ yourusername you and me both! 🤝🧡

user she's got the dream job omg

↳ user IKR??? imagine just getting to follow lando around and take pictures of him all day, i'd be dead within the first hour

↳ user he'd smile at me and i'd be asking “what are we” on god 😩😩😩

↳ user is that literally all she does??? she just follows him around and takes pictures??

↳ user there’s probably a technical term for what her position is and i just don’t know it, but bc there’s so much going on around the track at any given moment, sometimes the press and other media workers are focused on something or someone else, so she’s hired on by mclaren to specifically focus on mclaren to make sure that there is content for mclaren or mclaren sponsors to use. she’s not just lando’s photographer, she also takes photos of oscar, the pit teams, and the other staff that work in the garage, but she was hired on when lando started so her portfolio is pretty full of him. hope this helps!

user didn't know i could need so much orange in my life but here we are

user LANDO NORRIS SUPREMACY

oscarpiastri i see who the favourite is 🫤

↳ yourusername you literally SAW me picking photos for your post too

↳ oscarpiastri yeah but you posted his first 🫤

user guys this is the face of the 2024 wdc winner take it in now

user i could write a 50 page thesis on the importance of these photos and what they mean to me and how the serotonin they make me release could replace my depression meds

user lad’s like a mini danny ric with how smiley he is

landonorris best photog right here folks

↳ yourusername you're only saying that bc i always get your good side

↳ landonorris i'll have you know that all sides are my good sides 🤨

↳ yourusername whatev helps you sleep at night luv 😊

In 2019, when you took on the job of being McLaren’s lead photographer, you hadn’t expected it would garner you the amount of attention it has, or that it would slingshot your career to levels of success you never could have anticipated, or that you would get a best friend out of it.

When you first met him back in those early days, you’d thought Lando Norris was an arrogant, pretentious, self-righteous prick who thought he was hot shit because he was a Formula One driver. However, he’d quickly proven you wrong when he’d admitted to you that a lot of the confidence was an act━ carefully constructed to hide his insecurities about his performance both on and off the track.

“I mean, we’re drivers, yeah?” He’d said. “But we’re also actors. We’ve got these personas that we have to uphold even out here on the paddock, and I’m always worried I’m not playing the part well enough.”

It hadn’t made a lot of sense to you then, you thought he was pulling off the persona of Total Douche remarkably well, but in Shanghai, things changed.

After the Chinese Grand Prix, things were dour. Lando had DNFed━ the first in his Formula One career━ which contrasted greatly with his previous accomplishment of P6 in Bahrain. Carlos Sainz hadn’t been doing very well, either, and it didn’t paint a very pretty picture for McLaren so early in the season. You’d thought he’d throw a hissy fit, tear Daniil Kvyat apart for his role in the crash, or at the very least throw some shade his way, but he hadn’t done any of that. He’d accepted his fate with grace, joked to the media about how boring the race had been because of what had happened, and then gone on to congratulate Carlos for at least finishing.

What was even more shocking, was that despite his disappointment and the frustration he must’ve been feeling, instead of going back to sulk in his lonesomeness or drown out his feelings with booze and loud music at some club, he’d comforted you later that evening.

The morning of the race, as you’d been getting ready in your hotel room, you’d gotten a text from an unsaved number admitting to you that they’d been taking part in a months-long affair with your boyfriend but had been previously unaware that he was already taken and therefore wanted to let you know to clear their conscience. You’d managed to hold yourself together then━ mostly because you’d already done your makeup and, quite frankly, didn’t have the time to sob it all off and then attempt to salvage it━ but as the day drew to a close and the adrenaline of the race and its excitement wore off, and with nothing else to keep you distracted, you were struggling to keep yourself composed.

Lando had somehow noticed in that weirdly perceptive way of his that something was off, and he’d sat with you, asked what was wrong, and listened when you━ through tears━ explained the situation to him.

“He sounds like a total fucking muppet,” he’d commented after you’d said your piece, and he’d done it with such a deadpanned expression that it had startled a genuine laugh out of you. Because yeah, you’re (now ex) boyfriend had been a muppet.

After that━ and after all the rom-com and ice cream binging you’d both done in his hotel room afterward much to the chagrin of Lando’s nutritionist and the displeasure of his PR officer━ you’d rescinded your initial judgment of him. He was significantly less dickish than you’d originally thought, and it let you finally understand what he’d meant when he’d talked about putting on a persona.

The cocky, know-it-all prick that Lando pretended to be half the time was all just an act to hide his overly self-critical nature fueled by his insecurities.

By the end of the season, he’d gained a little confidence of his own and had subsequently toned down the assholery when he no longer needed to “fake it til he makes it,” and you were calling him your friend.

It’s 2023 now, and he’s since been upgraded to best friend status━ a role he takes very seriously, and constantly reminds you of.

“I’m your best friend━” case and point, “━you have to come to Bali with me. Literally, like, what am I gonna do without you there? Do you expect me to just go by myself? What if I get lost? Or what if somehow the mafia, who have unknowingly had a hit out on me for years, track me down there and I’m kidnapped and ransomed off for billions of dollars? What will you do then?”

“You just want me to take pictures of you,” you answer, rolling your eyes only because you know he can’t see you through the phone.

He gasps in mock offense. “I cannot believe you think I value you so little! I want you to take pictures of me and be here to help me make fun of awkward tourist spray tans so I don’t feel like a total asshole for being the only one who laughs.”

You laugh at that. “Well, unfortunately laughing at bad fake tans doesn’t pay the bills.”

“But taking pictures of me does.”

“Yeah, when McLaren is paying.” You turn back to your laptop, a photo put on pause mid-edit splayed across the screen. It’s of Lando, as most of your photos tend to be despite your attempts at keeping things even between the McLaren boys. It’s the last of the images you need to send over for their 2023 sendoff, and when it’s finished you’ll officially be without work for a painstaking two months. “I’m on break too, technically, until they need promotional shit for the new season.”

He huffs, and you can almost imagine the childish pout on his face. “What are you even doing, then?”

You hesitate, not because you don’t want Lando to know about your winter plans, but because you don’t really know how he’ll react, which means it could be anything between genuine happiness for you and congratulations, or abject horror and feigned screams of anguish. He’s always been dramatic like that, but even more so now that he’s comfortable enough with you and himself to have crawled a decent way out of his shell.

Even still, he’s your best friend and it would make you a pretty shitty person if you didn’t tell him.

“Believe it or not,” you start, wringing your hands together, “but Manchester City actually hit me up with an inquiry. Asked if I’d be interested in working with them on a project documenting their training throughout the winter months. I said I would love to.”

He pauses for a good long moment, and you prepare for the screaming, but all he says is━ “Man City? You traitor. I thought Man United was our forever!”

“Be so fucking real right now, Lando Norris,” you answer, laughing as you do so. You’re relieved, at least he hasn’t gone the feigned anguish route, but you also can’t tell if he’s happy for you or hiding his true feelings behind humor like he’s prone to doing. “You know damn well you only watched them for Christiano Ronaldo and he hasn’t played with United since 2009.”

“Technically he played for them in the 2021-2022 season,” he grumbles.

“Yeah,” you deadpan, “and he was dogshit. We both agreed to pretend it never happened.”

He groans, “I can’t believe this. My day is ruined and my disappointment is immeasurable.”

“Oh, get over yourself. It’s only for the winter. I’ll be back in McLaren Papaya by February when they need me snapping shots of you and Oscar next to the new livery,” you promise.

The reality is that it’ll probably be sooner. McLaren has always been good about getting you back at HQ pretty quickly, either to get some snapshots of the beginning of Lando and Oscar’s pre-season return or to just capture some material of the engineers at work to promote their readiness. You understand why they can’t keep you around all year━ no Lando and no Oscar means no you━ and with the sheer amount of content you capture and edit for them throughout the season, they’ve got enough to last them the handful of weeks you aren’t working.

Unfortunately, you aren’t working with a driver’s salary to keep you sustained over the break and rent certainly hasn’t been getting cheaper. In past years, your bank account has been chirping with crickets when you’ve returned to work after the winter, and that was before your landlord had decided to make your life a living hell.

You have an important job, but it’s by far the most important, and sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Working in sports media taught you that early on.

“Who knows?” Lando’s voice snaps you back. “Maybe Jack Grealish with his perfect hair and perfect calves will steal you away and you’ll be in sky blue forevermore.”

You laugh, “Jack Grealish is a happily taken man, and although he does have perfect hair and perfect calves, I’m more of a Haaland girl anyway.”

He guffaws. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re so far gone that you already have a preferred player. Jack Grealish is England’s poster boy! Everyone loves him whether they like City or not!” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Christ, I can already feel you slipping through my fingers. I give it a week over there at Etihad before you call me up telling me I can find a new best friend because you’ve replaced me with Phil Foden and Julian Alvarez.”

“For someone who supposedly hates Manchester City, you’re certainly well-versed in their roster.”

“Well duh, I need to know my competition,” he says, like it’s obvious.

“Ah, yes,” you snark back sarcastically. “Because you, a Formula One driver, have to be worried about the football players of Manchester City.”

“Apparently I do if you’re calling yourself a Haaland girl now!”

You burst into cackles and he’s following shortly after with chuckles of his own that eventually peter out into a comfortable silence. You are really going to miss him for the few months you aren’t working with him.

The Formula One schedule is so jam-packed across the season that it typically means you’re getting to see him every day for an hour or two at least, if not for the entirety of the time he’s at the track. You follow him and Oscar to their sponsor obligations, their interviews, and everything in between. It’s honestly rare if you’re not getting a moment to goof off and dick around with one another━ and it’s even rarer for you to not actually see one another face to face in passing at the very least.

The off-season is your least favorite time of the year for this very reason, and though it makes you feel a bit full of yourself to think so, you imagine Lando doesn’t enjoy this time of year much either for the same reason.

“I promise I won’t replace you with any of the City boys,” you say after the silence has stretched on a moment longer.

He huffs again, but you can envision the smile tugging at his lips. “I suppose even if you do, I’ll just show up to a match and steal you away again.”

“As if. Have you seen Grealish’s calves?”

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footballfansofficial BREAKING: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward caught with mysterious woman revealed to be well-known Formula One photographer Y/N L/N! The two were seen sharing a romantic evening on Friday, the 5th of January, ringing in a passionate start to 2024. Garrett Ward has been with Manchester City since 2021 but was out on loan to a lesser-known Championship League team until 2023. He has just recently begun to play for his team again, but an injury early into the season has seen him benched for a majority of his time back. Y/N L/N is a photographer for Formula One racing team McLaren and has been working with them since 2019. Recently, she has been working with Manchester City to help promote a new docuseries following the men’s team’s winter training. Check the link in our bio for the full article!

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user OMG GARRETT WARD??? NOTORIOUS BACHELOR GARRETT WARD???

user who is she? like genuinely how is she relevant 🤔

↳ user no literally cuz like who even gives two shits about formula 1?

user girl works in f1 why can’t she stay there

↳ user i’m sure there are plenty of drivers who’d smash her idk why she needs to try and get footballers too like bffr 😒😒😒

user aint no way this bitch is kissing my man rn

user literally what does he even see in her??? she’s not even cute AND she’s wearing man united colors 💀💀

user Y/N L/N??? I THOUGHT SHE WAS WITH LANDO NORRIS???

↳ user LITERALLY ME TOO?? like she posts him all the time on insta so i just kinda thought they were an item or smth?? trouble in paradise maybe

user she’s fucking ugly wtf

user i wish these footballers who get with regular women would realize there are so many better girls out there that would ACTUALLY treat them well and would support them in their careers. like i bet this girl doesn’t even know anything about football. she works in f1 and that’s where she should stay bc nobody cares about that shit round here. she probably doesn’t even know the first thing about how football works, but i bet she’ll be at matches pretending like she knows what’s happening. garrett ward is gonna flush his career down the troilet for this chick bc she’s gonna convince him his busy schedule ain’t worth it and then city will be down a great forward for good, and it’ll all be her fault

user i mean she’s kinda pretty tbf

↳ user stfu she really isn’t

↳ user she gen looks like any random bitch off the street

user these comments are not it…. 😬

↳ user maybe you f1 fans just don’t know how to handle constructive criticism

↳ user is the constructive criticism in the room with us rn?? cuz all i’m seeing is bullying and hatred directed towards an innocent woman who’s only “crime” was going on a date

user ok so she can take photos?? 🙄🙄 maybe she should get a real job

↳ user she’s probably only with him so she can mooch off of him like a fucking gold digger

user AINT NO WAYYYYYY

user it’ll last a month max 😌 i’m calling it

user ayo lando come get your girl

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette

━━ a/n: here we have it! took me a bit longer than the start of american smile did, but lando's story is officially here! (and it's a whopping 2.9k words to start us off). first and foremost, before we get started, garrett ward is 100% an oc and obviously does not play for manchester city, and this is bc i would feel absolutely horrible portraying a real person in the way that garrett will be later on. gather from that what you will haha! regardless, i hope you enjoy this first part and stick around for the rest!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

Text

Do it already (m)

Pairing: best friend's brother!Chan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, slice of life

Word count: 6.5k

tags: actor!chan, childhood friends!chan, possessive!chan, yearning!reader, plot rich, reader with tits, reader masturbation, kitchen counter sex, reference to drugs, oral (giving and receiving), mouth fucking, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink, unprotected sex. tender love and care

Summary: You and the Lee siblings were like three peas in a pod. That didn't last long when Chan went for his dream and left you and sister to yourselves. That was no problem since she was the best friend you could ever have. Now he's back, hot, fit, oozing sex appeal and you're wondering what it'll take for him to rail you like a train on tracks.

author note: this banner took 3 minutes to make. It's take a lot shorter if i didn't have so many spelling errors. point is this banner is the coolest bc i found a template already premade. it's been a while since i wrote a lengthy chan thing that wasn't just smut so, here you go. enjoy! and thank you to everyone that voted on the poll to make this happen. also, every thought the reader had been once my own, I overindulged once again

tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

You remember Chan eating dirt at the ripe age of 5. You were the cause of it. You thought it was funny to make a dirt and worms pie with real dirt and worms. You were right. He’s hated you since.

His sister, Chanmi, agreed with you. She thought you were really funny. Chan eventually got over the dirt pie, and found it incomplete without your presence. You became best friends after that and basically followed them everywhere. You always wanted siblings and since mom couldn’t afford to push out anymore, you settled on being fake siblings with the Lees.

Then Chan decided to pursue his dreams when he was 14. That was okay. You had more in common with Chanmi, anyway. His disappearance made you and Chanmi closer. She relied on you and you doted on her. It was a mutual symbiotic relationship. You couldn’t see a life without each other.

You ended up in the same college as well, living across the hall from each other in the same dormitory. Now you really couldn’t see a life without her.

When it was time to graduate, you really worried you’d drift apart by now. When she reassured you wouldn’t, you trusted her word, as she trusted yours when you made that same commitment. It was time to commemorate it, so in came your joint graduation party. Your families and mutual friends had joined together and celebrated the end of an era. You would now go off into a world that you feared more than it would fear you. But you had Chanmi. You couldn’t imagine a better person to do it with.

Chan had hardly crossed your mind in all these years until the very moment he walked through your front door. You could hardly recognize him in the Armani blazer and dress shoes, but it was him. He had the same sharp yet attentive brown eyes since he was a teenager. He was simply all grown up now, as have you. Chan had come to visit a few times in the time he’s been gone but you only ever saw him a brief passing, caught up in your own life.

Once our eyes have landed on him, it’s as if time has stopped. The acting school must’ve done this because his image seemed to be crafted in utter perfection. He was slightly taller than you remember, chiseled than you remember, and the least of all, more handsome than you remembered. You emphasize that you never saw Lee Chan attractive, not once, but here you were, devouring every detail of him.

He saunters over with flowers in his arms–noticeably two bouquets, one full of daisies and another with sunflowers–and stands before you and your best friend with a smile on his face. He congratulates Chanmi, handing her the bouquet of sunflowers and a hug, and within earshot saying how he knew she could do it.

Then came you. The expression on his face is something you’ve never seen him make. It bordered the line of surprised, startled, perhaps aroused, and you don’t know what to make of it. You clenched your legs anxiously before you pushed yourself up from your seat, seeing how much taller he really gotten since. It was funny since you had gotten used to being the taller one in your youth but it seems some of that has changed, along with everything about him.

“Congratulations, Y/n.” He hands you your daisies, unable to tear his gaze from you, fingers brushing against yours as he places them in your hands and electricity flows through you both.

“No hug,” you ask, trying it. His grin gets wider, arms now coming around you, and you feel his larger than life biceps close in a tight embrace. The scent that entered your personal circle now engulfed your senses, blackberries and cream. He smelled sweet, comforting, and if you help it, down right edible.

You sigh, hugging closer, closing your eyes to fully appreciate his warmth and he spoke to a lethally soft tenor, “You’re looking good, Dirt cake. Welcome to adulthood.”

He felt strong and safe, yet left you breathless when he smoothed his hand over your back. You wonder how there can be so much tension in a seemingly platonic gesture. He makes you feel like the only other person to exist, but it ends when he pulls away, and his ghost lingers over your form.

The attention is all on him when his parents see Chan arrive, proud to have gotten the family back together again. Your parents greet him the same, having once known him to be a placeholder of a son they would’ve loved to have. Everyone is joyous.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him, the rest of the party or the rest of the night that matter, thinking only what he’d like underneath those clothes. As children, you’ve had your fair share of beach days, pool parties, joint family vacations to rented lake houses, but that was a time when Lee Chan wouldn’t even be considered in your dating pool. You were both children, almost like family at some point, and thinking of him in any manner besides that was icky. So, so icky.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t watch him tear off that blazer and put it away in a closet. His muscles ripple through his expensive dress shirt, sleeves pulled up to cut off at the elbows, revealing blue veins so thick and pulsing you imagine how they’d feel against your tongue at the sight of them. You lie in bed at the thought of them, overwhelmed at the pool it causes between your legs and goes to reclaim your arousal. Your digits languidly follow the trail of their escape and bite on your other pillow to muffle your ache.

Your head throws back into the duvet as you plunge two eager digits in your sopping core. The perfect arch you make goes unnoticed in your lonesome. You pleasure yourself in solitude, when in your mind one other person takes your fingers’ place.

“Cum all over me, sweet angel. I can feel you close.”

He had never uttered those words in his life, at least not you, but can hear them almost as clear as day.

Your hips slew in a circular type motion. Your moans get more curt as you bite hard into the cotton felt. Legs tense up, lifting off the bed, and hushed whimpers are all you communicate as you’re overcome with your release, taking the time for your legs to settle down. Your pulse would take a longer time to process your journey. Chan was still on your mind after all. Along with all the guilt built up from the considered betrayal you’ve made to his sister, your best friend, you were wondering if you could ever face her, or Chan, again.

“Oh my god, when was the last time we were out together like this?”

Chanmi’s enthusiasm combated your desire to hide away forever from guilt. You pick apart your burger, making sure there were no pickles as you’ve requested, and humming content as your message was received. “3-4 years. If you include that lunch, Chan took off in 10 minutes.”

The culprit chuckled, depositing a fry in his mouth. “I'm in high demand. You should be proud to be sitting so close to me.”

Chanmi snickers, shoving a nugget in his face, “Here, shove this in your pie hole.”

He happily accepts the excuse to shut up and enjoys it like it’s the most delicious thing on earth. “Yummy.”

You all laugh at his lighthearted nature and talk as if no time has passed. It’s familiar, warm, but jarring, because seeing you all united together proved that time came with age, and apparently for Chan, a new appreciation for a fully equipped gym.

He’s the same personality-wise, but you can’t help but focus on the physical. Looking at him while talking felt like he had been body swapped with some foreign adonis. You don’t forget the more stylish hair cut he sports, tapering slightly short at his sides and longer up top. He was becoming everything he meant to be.

“How’s shooting,” you curiously ask, “I’m sure it’s really exciting to be working on a bigger project like this.”

Chan took off the middle of your childhood to enroll in a boarding performing arts school. He wanted to pursue acting professionally one day, and he believed the networking and immersion of the curriculum would allow him to hone that skill. He made a pretty penny doing TV commercials in his attendance there, but his senior year he finally got cast in a small film. His mini break.

He played a minor role but got all the perks of a lead, besides the fame. He pushed himself hard to get recognized in his field of work. Corpses on criminal mind-esque shows, taking on five-minute extra characters, becoming a regular on a cable show with a beloved modest fandom, and finally now he’s done it. He was going to be a lead on an online streaming series that would be broadcasted internationally. Although, he hadn’t gotten the male love interest he strived for. He had claimed the role of the second love interest instead, and everyone always loved the second lead more than the first, he rationalized.

“It’s so exciting. Everyone is so talented and cool. I almost can't believe it.” He expresses with an excited glint in his eyes.

“It’s a big deal,” You cover his hand with yours, squeezing it affectionately. “You deserved this.”

You exchange proud smiles at each other. You wish you could feel the warmth from his lips as he lets out a quiet “thank you” as he places his over hand on top of yours. This feels too tender to be real, and you wonder how you could ever have noticed those creased smile eyes in the past.

The moment is interrupted when a text tone goes off and Chanmi claims it. “Oh, gotta go. I have a date.”

Chan rolled his eyes as his giddy sister hops out of her chair, releasing himself from your hands, and they suddenly drop cold. “Can't believe you planned a date in one of the few days I’m in town.”

Chanmi lands a quick peck on your cheeks and sticks her tongue at brother in defiance, scurrying away in a quick farewell and she’s gone behind those double doors of the restaurant. This leaves you three: you, Chan, and the impending arousal that slicks your walls for being alone with him any longer than a second.

“It’s crazy isn’t it,” Chan breaks your silence, “you guys graduating, me being in a lead. It’s so wild how far we’ve come.”

You nod, “It really is. Everything’s different now.”

“Well, besides school, what else has happened? Now’s the time to catch up.”

You hummed, “where do I start?”

Let’s see where you could start.

The moment you walk right through that front door, I cannot stop thinking about your hands on my body how you would press me up against a wall and fuck me senseless, stupid, or just straight up use me until I can’t even remember my own name. It’s been only a few days since I last saw you, but every day since then I thought about you. I touch myself to the thought you. I wondered how you would say my name. I wonder if you would say my name at all. I even wondered what you would want me to call you, if that was even necessary. For you, I would lay my body with only the purpose of fulfilling every one of your desires. I’d have myself milk you until the end of our days.

You kept that to yourself. You were ashamed those words even ran through your mind in the brief moment it did, and you held your breath. “Well, since college is over, I can focus on the internship I got into. It’s a lot less intense than I’m expecting, just waiting for that adrenaline to pick up when it does.”

“You’re so grown up. I can believe I missed that.” There’s so much tenderness and fondness in his eyes.

I could say the exact same about you.

“So, Chanmi’s dating. You seeing anyone lately?”

If I was, they’d be gone the second I saw you.

“No, not really,” you respond, averting your gaze to your drink, “college guys kind of suck if I’m being honest.”

Humor is evident as Chan stifles a laugh, wiping away the reminder of his sandwich away from his face. “That I’ve heard of. Good. You deserve more than a guy just trying to get his dick wet.”

You halt, pleasure churning in your stomach at his vulgar language, hunching over the diner table in anguish. The pool of arousal spreads further. “That’s one way to put it. And you? Anyone caught your eye?”

Please say no. For the love of god and Buddha, say no.

“No luck on my end, either.”

Fuck yes.

“Oh, well, that sucks.”

“I have had a lot of work on my hands, so I don’t really fall into the practice of dating. I guess I’m just taking things as they come”

You nod, completely aligned with him. You didn’t see the point in dating apps if its purpose was only to put you out there in the world. You did plenty of that on your own.

“And sex?” What are you doing?

He snorts, his pearly whites on display. “What about sex?”

Stop before you’re in too deep. “Are you having any?” For Christ's sake.

He bites his lip, amused, taking the last sip from his sprite before setting it aside. “At the moment, no. Why? Are you offering?”

YES.

“No,” you scratch your head, blinking in feign innocence, “just gathering intel to sell to paparazzi before you become a superstar and leave us.”

He crumbles up a napkin, a scrunched up smile on his face, before launching it at you, “You jerk. And no, I’m not fucking anyone.”

God, the way he cusses feels like drugs in my veins.

“Are you asking because you are,” he asks, “are you having sex with someone?”

There’s a sense of childish curiosity in his voice, like peers gossiping about the latest tea, but beneath it is something else. He circles his drink from his hands, eyes locked in place, mouth dropped in a way that screams ‘I dare you to answer’ and how his jaw tenses up after immediately asking, sets a fire into your inner thighs.

You let out a suffocated breath, pinching the skin of your thigh to snap you back into reality before the heat in his gaze singed your mouth shut. “Nope.”

He hums, relief grazing his harsh brows. “Not hung up on anyone?”

“No. Need an ex to be hung up with someone,” you quickly answer, before the bitter taste of regret stings your tongue.

“Interesting.”

You narrow at him. “What's so interesting about it?”

You want me. Just say it so I can lunge across this table to get to you.

“I haven’t seen you in years and you’re beautiful, smart, single. It doesn’t sound right.” He answers with a shrug.

Call me beautiful one more time. I will suck your dick right now under this table. I don’t care about being caught.

“There’s not really a reason, it’s just how it is. And maybe I’m not looking. Considered that?”

The only person I’m looking at is right in front of me—God, I can smell your cologne from here. Fuck. I want to devour you.

“Maybe, but me personally, I’d sweep you up before any guy could get the chance.” He chuckles.

Then do it. Stop teasing me.

“Chanmi would probably kill me tho. Probably say it’d ruin our dynamic.”

Oh shit. Here you were, lost in a head fogged up with lust and you hadn’t considered your best friends seeing you get shacked up with her brother. You were betraying her every second you though about her brother in a lewd sense. Although, she made no indication she’d be bothered by such a thing, but who wouldn’t? You weren’t going to let yourself off on a technicality.

“Don’t think we have much to worry about, though. I think we’ll be just fine.”

His words were like an anchor dropped in your gut. You didn’t know what was worse. Messing around with your best friend’s brother or the possibility of him rejecting the idea before it even started. You lose feelings in your legs, exhaling through your nose, and cry a little on the inside. You force an agreeing smile on your face. “Yeah. Chanmi doesn’t have to worry about anything.”

The meal comes to a close and you tell Chan you should get going home and he insists on driving. You were insane if you were going to spend another second in his presence, knowing fully well how he made you feel. He’s basically rejected you. It was over. Quit trying.

“Let me know if the AC is too cold. I can turn it down.”

You were that insane.

“All good.”

You sit in silence. The radio envelopes the air and you interlock your hands in discomfort, while Chan focuses on the road. It's not a long drive from your place, but it sure felt like it was. But it gave you all the time to reflect. You needed some of that. Maybe you could get your common sense back.

Of course, Lee Chan wasn’t going to fall for you. Not like this. Maybe if you and his sister weren't attached at the hip, it’s possible. But then again, he would be living a life of fame, the spotlight, other people way hotter and more suitable for him. Face facts.

“So, since you haven’t dated anyone, I’m assuming you’re a virgin.”

Oh. He was going to keep going.

“Um, not quite,” you chuckle nervously.

He raises a brow. “So, you lied to me.”

You shake your head, “Of course not. I’m not having sex right now with anyone or a single person consistently, if that’s what you were saying, but I’ve had sex.”

“Did you?”

Something in his tone makes you want to turn your head to his side. You don’t regret your decision seeing the whites of his knuckles as he grips the wheel. His voice may have sounded friendly, but he held himself taut, visibly restraining himself.

Oh, Chan.

“Yeah. I didn't consider them exes, just flings,” you thought to add.

“Flings.” He repeats.

You grin to yourself. “Yeah. I think a few times in high school and then a few more in college.”

“My, my. Aren’t you all grown up now?” You can almost hear him gritting his teeth, and you relished in it.

“Well, this is me.” You point at the building Chan forces himself to park at. He tightens his jaw in view, tapping the leather of the wheel in contemplation. Possibly at the revelation you’ve revealed to him. You lean in where your face comes into view, smiling an innocent smile. “Want to come in, Chan?”

You can see the dilemma in his eyes. There's a war going on his brain and either way, he was losing. Inevitably, he helps you unbuckle his seat before deciding to do the same thing to him. He plays your game with a humorless smile. “Why not?”

When you’re finally alone in the comfort of your home, it took everything in you to not jump him right then and there. His eyes scan over your living area, taking in the kick knacks, the tchotchkes you bought over time. It was as if he was rediscovering you, all of you, and for some reason, that made you more nervous than anything else. But that meant he was curious about you. He wanted to know more past what he saw as a child. He wanted to see you.

He snorts, crossing his arms, eyes finally landing on you. “I like your apartment. Am I the only guy you brought here you haven’t fucked?”

That could change.

You shrug, gallantly walking further and further away from him. “I don’t usually bring people over here. If I’m hooking up, it’s usually at their place.”

You let him watch. His eyes trained on your walk, a resisted urge tempted in every step you take. “You know that’s incredibly dangerous, right?”

“Anymore dangerous than letting them know where I live?” you retort.

He saunters over to you, side grinning in challenge. “Why are you trusting towards me?”

“Because,” you mimic his arms, “We have nothing to worry about. You said so.”

He glares down at you, taking one step closer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Whatever do you mean, friend?”

He cocks his head, “You’re really testing your luck aren’t you, Y/n?”

You shrug, an obvious grin on your face, “I’m not testing anything. Exactly what are you implying?”

“Don’t push me, Y/n. You don’t want to find out what happens.”

“That’s funny,” now you’re the one backing him in a corner, pushing him, showing him, knee his shins until his fingers grip back in the arm of a couch, saying words you only ever dared to think, “Maybe don’t be a coward and fuck me already.”

His breath noticeably hitches and drinks in your assertion and feeds you back tenfold, pushing himself off the couch and colliding your lips, and a shock of immense arousal takes over your body. Goosebumps pebble your skin and involuntarily you moan in the lip lock, taking you longer than necessary to realize that Chan has backed you against a wall.

Your hand crawls into his hair, pushing him down to deepen your kiss as his hard member prods at your stomach. Hands run down to catch him, his clothed cock in your hands, feel how the zipper of his pants constricts him from taking up any more space, and you help spring him free.

“All this fat cock all for me? Chan, you shouldn’t have,” you playfully comment.

“It's what you wanted, isn't it?” He thrusts up against you, hiking up your leg to dig into your already pulsing core. “You want me to want you. To fuck you? Is that it?”

“Yes.” You answer definitely. “I want you to want me so bad it hurts. Just as badly as I want you.”

“It’s not some addiction you have? Move on from one fuck thing to the next?” He questions, venom on his tongue. He speaks with doubt, but his body defies him, drawn to you like opposing ends of a magnet, in need of you as much as you were in need of him.

“I don’t say things I don't 100 percent mean, Chan. If I wanted to just fuck you, I’d do it already.” You squeeze around him slightly tighter, wrapping your fingers around strands of his hair harder, hearing that stuttering grunt of his to reveal itself. “There's fucking, and then there’s you, Chan. I don’t just want to fuck you. I want to worship you.”

You catch a glimpse of his reaction to your startling response before lightly shove him off of you to get on your knees, scraping them against the textured wood. Lowering yourself gave a good view of the shift in his eyes, watching how they go from pure animosity to earth shattering enthrallment. Your hands come up to his hips, fingering from the waistband of his briefs and pulling it down with his pants, just to push it aside. His cock is big, hard, veiny, perfect to push down your throat.

You wrap your fingers around his girth, fingers trailing over his veins, counting the estimated inches. Disappointment didn’t even cross your mind.

“You have such a pretty, pretty cock,” you gasp, “have you thought about it? My lips wrapped around your cock. I know I have.”

Chan’s bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth. His eyes dilate as your lips purse over the curve of his tip, kissing the slit. His mind then settles on your previous words, wondering what they entail. “Worship? With that kind of offer, I’d hate to refuse. What about you?”

“What about me?” His shaft hugs the curve of your cheek.

“If you’ll worship me, what’ll happen to you?”

Your smile stretches across your face before kissing his length between speeches. “Well, if you let me. I’ll be all yours. Your tits”—kiss—“ass,”—kiss—“your pussy,”—“your mouth. I’ll be all yours.”

Chan can’t help but smile with you. His hand finds a way to thread through your hair, getting a good angle tug, and ripping a flirtatious giggle from your lips. “I get all that? Deal of the century.”

You hum in agreement before you feel him hug the inside of your mouth, fluttering your eyes at his size. Your tongue runs along his skin, taking it calmly, slowly. You make sure you’re breathing from your nose, savoring every second.

Chan breathes out controlled breaths, boring his lust driven gaze into your presence. His cock is more than pleased in your hot, wet mouth coating him in drool Your sweet, swollen lips were like the cherry on top of sundae. They were gloriously full and glossy getting him off. “Your lips are perfect around me. And this mouth is mine, you say?”

You nod as you bob down, not expecting him to thrust inside you, flinching against the wall. He puts either hand on either side of your head, holding you in place. Your eyes shut tight, feeling him twitching in your throat before pulling out. A ribbon of translucency stretches from your lips to his head.

“My pretty, little mouth.”

There is a darkness in which he stares at you, like releasing of pandora’s box. He was lost in power, greed, filth. Whatever it was, you were ready for more and you didn’t mind what it took. He pets your hair, dragging his fingers from root to tips, saying his scary final words before he fills your cheeks more with his cock. “Cherish that last breath. You’ll need it.”

Your head stays pinned to the wall, cock plunged in your mouth, the view of Chan’s unfailing erection and groin the only sight you’re able to take in this moment of suffocation. He wasn’t slow with it and he didn’t plan to be. Groaning, his hips push in your mouth, the back of your head hitting the wall behind you with every thrust, and the length flossing the pipe of your throat. You become a makeshift version of a glory hole. Your hands steady themselves on his hips until they are forced to pin above your head.

You wretch at his sheer force, but take every inch. Your tears burn your cheeks, feeling the tremble of your limbs. You cough, gag, swallowing him as you’re pushed past your normal limits and finally meet the base of his cock. He rams in you, lips to lap, mouth stretched and sore. Full didn’t even begin to describe how it felt for him to fuck your mouth like this.

He shows mercy when he feels close, thrusting in all the way and holds in your mouth for an exact five seconds until he lets you go. Your saliva and his pre-cum dribble all over your chin and neck, but a dazed smile on your face despite the mess. A hand to your neck, he pulls you up from the ground, pressing you full bodily back in the wall.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty fucking whore.” he hisses.

His hand invades the depths of your pants. Your sopping folds are easy to find as they coat his fingers like syrup, sweet and thick. “Pussy’s mine, hmm? Ass too?”

“Yes. yes, take all of me.” You impulsively part your legs, the gateway of your throat closing up as his grip gets tights. All the stars you were seeing shined brighter than the stars in the damn sky.

Chan tugs off your bottoms, throws it aside like garbage and lifts you on top of a kitchen counter. The cool marble stings your ass cheeks but you hardly notice as Chan nose deep in your pussy. His fingers dig deeper, tongue flicking starved at your entrance. “Sweet Jesus, you’re fucking wet. Fucking dripping down my arm.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Chan.” Your leg hangs off his shoulder, feeling light as his tongue makes himself home in your warmth. “I want you, every part of you.”

They were more than enough words of encouragement as he’s lost in your thighs. The curve of his lips suck on your clit, eliciting a moan and would forever be ingrained to every wrinkle of his brain. His fingers–now down to his knuckles–traveling you at an unforgivable pace. He makes it known that he’d give you what you want, anything and everything in between, but he wouldn’t give you his patience.

His hand comes down at you hard on the center of your core, rubbing between every strike as he licks deep stripes, causing your whines of ache to grow louder. “More, Chan please. Touch my pussy more, like that.”

Your pain receptors could usually take so much pain, but with Chan, you’d sacrifice your nerves just to have him cum covering every inch of your body.

Swiftly, he reveals his upper body. Taut, firm muscles, packed in every region. Gleaming with sweat, his honey glazed abs flexes from the tension in his stomach. God, it was better than you ever imagined.

You watch as his strong arms pull you closer in his mouth. He latches on you like a leech, draw circles, finger fucking you until you’re drawing out his name in short bursts. Your jaw drops slack, clenching around his tongue, and pressing himself against you until you’re close. Oh, so close.

He pulls off at the worst moment and before you could protest, you taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling him pull off your blouse in the process. Tits in either of his hands, he roughly squeezes them, pinching tight at your stiff peaks enough for you to let out high pitched screeches. “Chan hurts!”

“Good.” He takes one in his mouth, nibbling one in his teeth before pinching the other one just as hard as before. You’re stuck between pain and pleasure, but as liquid escapes past your legs and the victor is clear.

“My tits…taste so sweet…like honey.” he mumbles.

You feel loved, worshiped, wet. You were wrapped around his finger, and if you get to be soe lucky, he’d feel that same way about you. After he’s done swelling your skin, he’s escorting you to what clearly is your room despite the first time of him being there and he dumps you on the bed.

“Ass in front, right now.”

Promptly, you do as he says, getting on all fours on the bed, lifting your ass welcome for him to take.

“Spread wider. I want to see that pretty pussy.”

Your legs naturally part further, the pigment of your sensitive flesh clear on display. Chan takes initiative. Putting himself between your divide, his tongue finding that familiar sweetness he parted with only a few minutes ago. “You taste so fucking good. I forgot all about saying that while in there earlier. You seem to do that to me.”

His hands come over the flesh of your ass, the sting of his hand is momentary before his tongue’s presence takes over, tasting you, inhaling you delicious scent, “Condom?” He manages to breathe out.

You shake your head, perspiration trailing your forehead. “But I’m clean, and on the pill. Like I said, you can do anything with me.”

Chan is blown over with a sense of relief, fishing his erection before lining up at your slit. He takes full strokes inside you, achingly slow, and you quiver at the fullness but whine when you’re immediately empty. He does that repeatedly, giving you the sensation before he rips it from you in mere seconds.

Yo pound your frustrated fists in the mattress. “Chan give me your cock… I want you please..”

“Really, Is it me you want?” He teases, “Or it is my cock fucking so deep in your pussy you feel it in your mouth?”

Vivid images in your head, you shudder at the depth of his now husky voice, “I want that from you. Only you. Please, I want you to cum in me…”

“Shit.” Hearing that made close already. “F-fine. Just shut the fuck up.”

He thrust in you, finding a pace to reside in. His mouth makes an o-shape at the clench of your wall. “Fuck wet pussy,”—slap—“wet, tight. All for me.”

Chan recalling your moans laced with ecstasy. Hearing you, watching the recoil of your ass hitting his lap, it was something he could get used to, but he could try. He forces his knees on the bed, pushing deeper inside you. He finds your hair before pulling, pushing you into to the mattress and muffling your moans until they melt into an oblivion.

“That reminds me,” he thinks to bring up, not minding the fact you were drowning in the duvet, “what is it you like being called?”

You muffle a response but if you were being honest, you could hardly think with his weight pushed back into you.

“Come on. What is it? Pick your poison.” He slows his pace, a hard, deep stroke taken with every term of endearment, “Baby? Sweetheart? Angel?”

You moan, but not enough.

He blinks, thinking it’s going somewhere when a light bulb goes up in his head. “Mmh, let's try this then. Clench harder, slut.”

You moan even louder, immediately following his command. He then pounds harder in you, lacking any clear remorse as his language becomes grunts, calling you ‘slut’, ‘whore,’ ‘fuckhole,’ every name in the book until you buck at his hips.

Shake as hard as an earthquake, saying his name, speaking your orgasm into existence. It’s all you feel as your vision becomes further away from the comprehensive. You become a lifeless body that takes every second as if you never would again, collapsing on the bed.

Chan, a man with solutions, flips you on your back. A leg of yours comes up on his chest, ankle over his shoulder and he bottoms out inside you, another tidal wave that jumpstart your adrenaline. “I’m not fucking done with you yet. You said you’d be mine and you will be for as long as I want.”

Your leg takes his side as he folds into you, lips messily meeting yours, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, he takes you even deeper and your way to feel can't be described as anything else but bliss. You caress his face, while his hand reconnected with your neck. You’re trailing down to feel down his torso, the pads of his fingers pushing against the column of your neck tighter. Life leaving your body, you count each ab, cup each peck, palm over each stiff peak, and trace over each muscle. If you could leave earth by this method, you would. Your voice is raspy, but takes no break from praising him.

“You’re fucking my pussy so good, feel so fucking good in my hands. Don’t. Fucking. Stop.”

“You like that,” kissing you in a curt repetitive action, sweeter than intended, “can you take…my…cum?”

“Yes,” you frantically nod, “cum in me. I want all your cum in me. Breed me please. I want you, only you, to fuck me, empty out in me, and repeat.”

His load is as warm as a home cooked meal, shooting in you, jerking into your body in a well-practiced motion. His body embraces you, closing in on you, while he tucks you in tight. You only remember the smile on his face when he cums. It looks like love in his eyes, warmth, and you are positive that that’s what it is because you're looking at him the same way. It feels like a perfect happy ending.

But nothing is over until Chan says it is over.

That day turned into night before you know it and all you’ve done is be in each other arms and fucking your shared cum back into places they belong. Despite the performance, Chan ended up being a gentleman, asking you where your spare clean towels were and helping you clean up the mess you’ve made. All the time and energy drained you both and with the lack of motivation to cook, you both called food to be delivered.

In an attempt to be presentable, you take the shirt he once wore and display it on yourself, his scent enveloping you like it were his embrace. That meant Chan had to walk around topless, and by George, that was quite the sight. You join him on the couch. His arm slings over your side, tenderly kissing your face as you feel up his body. You couldn’t help but grin like a love stricken puppy, memorizing every dent of every chiseled muscle, appreciating its entirety. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Chan hums, before muffling a thanks and taking your kiss-swollen lips in his. “I think you’re sexy.”

You giggle, reciprocating, already finding yourself straddling his lap, and that erection that’s already gone and inflated himself. This man had it all didn’t he?

Then it dawned on you. Maybe too late, but it did.

You part from him, eyes furrowed in worry.

Concern is written all over his face, and he curls your hair behind his ear, “what’s wrong?”

“What are we going to do about Chanmi?”

His expression soon matches yours as he sighs. His hand comes behind your head, kissing foreheads, and curls up in a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for us.”

“And If she isn’t?”

His hands tighten on the fabric of the shirt. “She’ll just have to.”

“She’s my best friend.”

“And she’s my sister. And I’m her only brother. We are two people she cares about and we’re happy together. Why wouldn’t she be happy?”

Your lips curl up in a small smile. “We’re together?”

His smile reaches his eyes. “I don’t think I’d spend all day like this with you if we weren’t.”

You kiss him, chaste and slow, and letting go before the heat travels back to your head, fogging your rationale. “I like you a lot, Chan.”

“I like you a lot, Y/n.”

“What about your career?”

He rolls his eyes, filling rubbing circles in your hips. “Why? Scared this superstar will run away from you for his chance in the spotlight?”

You grin mischievously, “No, aren’t you worried I’ll outshine you on the red carpet? I’ll be your date for every one of them now.”

“Then they’ll have no choice but to put me in everything under the sun.” He grins back.

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lemonlover1110 · 10 months

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 6] Explanations

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“Am I– Am I your daddy?” Suguru slowly blinks, trying to see if he’s seeing straight. He pinches his arm to check if he’s dreaming or something along those lines. Maybe he drank so much that he’s ascended to another place. A whole different universe. He rubs his eyes to see if it’s just his vision that is deceiving him, but the young boy is still there. “What’s your name?”

“I asked you first.” The boy points out, and Suguru thinks about it for a minute. He shuts his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them, Suguru shakes his head in response. The boy in front of Suguru is the spitting image of Satoru, there’s no way that Suguru is the father of the child.

“I’m not your father.” Suguru answers. Suguru wonders whose kid this is. In whose place is he at? There’s no picture frames around, nor anything on the walls. He’s thinking about you– But there’s no way this is your child… There’s no way this is Satoru’s child. “What’s your name?”

“Who are you?” The child ignores the question.

“It’s my turn to receive an answer. What’s your name?” Suguru ignores the second question that was asked. He watches as the kid furrows his eyebrows and purses his lips, most likely wondering if he should share that vital piece of information to a mere stranger– A stranger that woke up in his home. He ponders on it for a minute before he ends up answering,

“I’m Ren.” And just as the answer leaves the kid’s lips, Suguru looks up to find you. You wear a white robe around your body, hiding the old pajamas that you wear. Suguru's eyes shift from your face back to Ren’s. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out, but he still asks,

“Who’s this kid? He looks just like Satoru.” Suguru’s eyes still shift back and forth between you and Ren. Maybe he’s a figment of his imagination because there’s no way there’s a child that looks identical to Satoru right in front of him.

You bite down on your lip. You were a little too tipsy– No, you were drunk. You remembered your address, and you gave it to Shoko, but your judgment was clouded. Bringing back Shoko and Suguru to your apartment would not be a decision you would make sober. Shoko knows about your son but Suguru definitely doesn’t. Your blood runs cold and this cold sweat runs down your face. You take a deep breath before you mutter, “He’s my kid.”

“Huh?” Suguru knows a sound came from his lips, but he can’t quite make out the muffled sound.

“He’s my son.” You tell him, and his eyes widen. That should’ve been expected, it’s pretty obvious. You were with Satoru for so long, and since the child clearly isn’t Sayo’s, it must be yours. Additionally, a child doesn’t just spring out of nowhere.

Suguru sits dumbfounded, unsure of what to say, and you stare at him for a minute before you grab Ren’s hand and you walk to the kitchen. You pour water into two glasses, one for you and another for Suguru. You give a glass of water to Ren and you smile at him, asking him, “Will you please take this to Suguru?”

He nods, a grin coming to his face, happy to be helping. You gulp down your water and then rinse the glass. Your hands rest on the edges of the sink, thinking about how you’ll explain everything, how you’ll tell him that you had a baby with Satoru and that he better not tell anyone about this, not even Satoru; you don’t know how you’ll explain that Satoru has a kid that he doesn’t know about, one that he won’t know about.

“How old are you?” You hear, and you slightly turn your head to look at Suguru and Ren. Suguru takes the glass of water to allow Ren to hold four fingers up. Ren then returns the same question, and Suguru answers.

“Oh–” You hear a more feminine voice, and you’re immediately startled. You had totally forgotten that Suguru and Ren aren’t the only people in the place. Shoko and your mother are also here. You look at Shoko and try your best to smile at her, but she doesn’t notice since her gaze is on Suguru and Ren, “They look so cute together. He could be the step dad.”

“Don’t you even dare.” You tell her, causing her to laugh in response. You look at her, and she looks completely fine. She drank more than you did but looks spectacular, but you’ve always known that she’s a heavy drinker. She makes herself at home, opening the fridge and looking for something appetizing for her. “Do you want pancakes? I’m about to make some.”

“It’s fine. I’m going to the balcony to smoke.” Shoko ends up saying, not really finding anything in the fridge appetizing enough. Pancakes don’t really sound good at the moment either. “Can I spend the day with you guys? I don’t really want to go home.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m just taking Ren to the park and other than that, not much.” You inform her, and she purses her lips together.

“Nevermind. Have fun.” She responds. She can’t fathom the thought of spending her day at the park, hearing children laughing and whatnot. “Are you taking Suguru with you?”

“I don’t know– I know he’s going to want to talk about this, I’m sure.” You tell her. You end up sighing just thinking about everything. Your life would be easier if you had just stayed away from the family, even if it meant you were drowning in debt. “I have to talk to him so he doesn’t tell Satoru about this.”

“Are you sure you want to keep this a secret for so long– The longer you hide it, the more Satoru will resent you when he finds out.” Shoko points out, causing you to shrug in response. There is a better way to handle all of this, you’re sure, but you can’t seem to figure out how to actually handle it. You just know that you’ll keep it hidden from Satoru, even if it isn’t the best option.

“I stopped caring about what Satoru feels or doesn’t feel for me the moment Ren was born.” You say, even if it’s clearly a lie. You won’t lie that the thought of Satoru resenting you tugs your heartstrings, but it also fills you with fury; Satoru was the one that left you even when you were just on a break, you’re the only one that’s allowed to hold resentment, especially since you were the best partner you could be when his father passed. “If you want him to find out so badly, you can tell him yourself.”

“That’s none of my business. It’s up to you.” She ends up saying before she walks away. You stare off into space as you think about it. You can’t let him know, even if you wanted to. You’re able to take care of Ren financially now, the last thing you need is to risk Satoru taking him away from you.

You deeply exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. You walk back to the living room, and you smile at your son before asking him, “Ren, will you please go check on your granny? I’m about to make breakfast and I wouldn’t want her to miss out.”

“Yes, mommy.” Ren nods his head before he sprints out of the room, making you yell,

“No running, Ren!”

“So…” Suguru begins, his hands going from his thighs to resting on his knees. He needs a moment to gather his thoughts. He feels absolutely awful from drinking too much the previous night, and he really can’t wrap his head around the thought that you have a child with Satoru. It’s so early in the morning too. “You have a kid?”

“I do…” You hesitantly nod. You take a seat next to him, and you sigh. You’re not sure how to start it off– You definitely don’t have the energy to explain everything to him, at least not this morning. “Before you ask, he is Satoru’s. Just don’t say anything to him.”

“Oh–” His eyes widen for a moment before he shuts them. He then shakes his head as he tries to process it all, something that he does when he’s overwhelmed; he’s done it ever since he was a kid. “I’m not sure what you’re asking?”

“His mother knows, she doesn’t want him to know… So we’re keeping it a secret, okay? Will you do that for me?” You ask, and he feels as if this is some kind of fucked up dream. Satoru is still his friend, even if they aren’t close like they were at sixteen, but that’s still his friend. This whole situation is so fucked up. You know he has a lot of questions. “I tried to tell him but–”

“But?” He interrupts you without intending to. He mutters an apology before allowing you to continue. You bite down on your lip and you debate if you want to tell the truth or tell a lie– You take a deep breath before you continue.

“He wasn’t ready to have a child, he told me that and when he heard there was a possibility of me being pregnant, he told me it was best to have an abortion. I just don’t want him to know because it’ll upset him, his mother thinks it’s the best decision too.” You become nauseous as you lie to him. You watch his expression go to a shocked one. You grab his hands, lightly squeezing them before you ask him, “Will you please not tell? I really can’t deal with that now.”

“Okay… Yeah. Okay.” Suguru slowly nods, not really thinking everything through. The only thought that runs through his mind is that Satoru is the biggest jerk to ever exist on Earth, and you couldn’t agree more. You stand up from the couch and smile at him, his eyes softening when he sees your smile.

“I’m making pancakes for breakfast, would you like some?”

There’s a knot in your stomach for a week straight, each day you’re expecting Satoru to show up at your desk, yelling obscenities, berating you for hiding his son. The anxious feeling passes after a week, and you’re sure that Suguru won’t tell. Luckily for you, you avoid bumping into Satoru for the whole week.

And just as you think that you’ve freed yourself from ever looking at Satoru again, you’re reminded that you work in the same building. You’re reminded when Shoko calls you into a board meeting since she forgot to bring something, a small gift. You take a deep breath and brace yourself to walk into the place. The door is wide open, telling you that the meeting has yet to start.

You have to bring yourself to take the small steps that you have left to enter the office. You walk inside, your eyes immediately landing on Satoru of all people. He’s looking at the blonde assistant, and you recognize the look in his eyes from a mile away. Lust filled eyes, and it confuses you. Maybe you’ve forgotten how he is; his expressions, his manerism. He surely wouldn’t look at that at his secretary? You’re surely misreading things. Surely the mischievous smirks they share mean nothing. Satoru wouldn’t do that to the wife that he seems to love so much.

You take your eyes off Satoru, only to find Sayo there as well; it certainly confuses you since she isn’t a board member– At least you don’t think she is. You try your best to not dwell on it, after all, it’s none of your business. You spot Shoko and silently walk to her to give her the small gift. You have a couple of questions about it but once again, it doesn’t concern you.

Once she thanks you, you’re able to sneak right out, and luckily you leave before Mrs. Gojo arrives. When you’re about to go back to your floor, someone stops you and you begin to chat. You’ve luckily made some work friends, and they keep you up to date on gossip. Since nobody needs you, you’re allowed to chat with them for a bit.

You lose track of time but you’re sure you didn’t spend too much time chatting when you step in the elevator, ready to go back to your floor. Just when the doors begin to close, a man comes running to not miss the lift, and when you see him, your nails dig into your palms. You leave just at the wrong time– At the very least, you hope that someone is behind him but no one enters in time.

You stand on opposite sides, and you step farther away because the large distance between you isn’t enough space. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence the same way you don’t acknowledge his. He looks at his watch before clearing his throat and commenting, “Shoko sent you back a long time ago, why were you still on the floor?”

You don’t answer. He guesses it’s fine if you don’t ever talk again, there’s nothing to talk about anyway. You just wait for the doors to open, and when you’re almost at your floor, he decides that if you’re never talking to each other again, he might as well say one more thing before you leave.

The elevator doors open and he says,

“Time has done you well, you look as beautiful as ever.”

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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nvoirs · 1 year

Text

Disclaimers: Cowgirl, missionary, !F recieving, public sex basically, !F gets ate out.

It had been almost a week since you and Leon had rescued Ashley from the psychotic cult, los illuminados, in rural Spain.

You both had made it back in one piece, even if you were both infected by the las plagas virus at some point during your journey through spain.

The president was absolutely delighted to know that the two of you had secured his daughter safely and brought her back home. In honour of doing so he had arranged a large fancy dinner party celebrating the both of yours accomplishments.

You were very appreciative you'll admit that but you weren't really a party person even if this was a formal one where of course everyone will behave.

Being a introverted person that kept to yourself you'd say you we're the complete opposite of Mr Kennedy here. He loved the attention, and his humour made people like him even more so.

Ever since he'd lent you his jacket back before you came home because it was super cold that night, you've been thinking about him. His jacket was still slung over your shoulders when he told you he could keep it. But you tried to protest, trying to explain to him that you had plenty of jackets to wear. He said he didn't want to hear it, and that it could also serve as a reminder of what you and him had been through. Thinking about that, you we're very sure that you did not want anything to remind you of that horrible place.

But it was leon. You'd admit you had feelings for him, and they had blossomed more during your mission in spain. You had no idea if he felt the same, because he flirts with everyone no different, just the same.

So when you had come to this supposed dinner party you had decided, you were going to wear his jacket and see if it elicited any reactions in him. You topped it on top of your dress that you wore, as you walked to your assigned sit next to him.

Leon's glance was indeed glued to you, or most likely his jacket. Oh, he did not expect that. It was kind of turning him on which wasn't a good sign being in public and all. His thoughts errupted his wants to stop this, and he imagined images of you underneath his figure. Wearing only his jacket, and getting absolutely wrecked by him.

"Please.. fuck me harder, i want it!" Your dreamself in leon's mind cried out.

leon however was snapped out of his refreshing dream of you when you excused yourself to use the restroom. Now was his chance. His chance to ask you privately if you felt the same as he did.

A few minutes after you had disappeared through the foyer trecking to the restroom. Leon also excused himself and decided to wait outside in the foyer for you.

When you came out from the restroom, you nearly tripped and fell from the shock you had from leon standing there.

"Fuck! Leon! What we're you doing?" You held your chest, hearing the thumping of your heart.

"I'm just stood here, what on earth do you mean?" Leon grinned, leaning his hand against the wall you stood you're ground on.

"I mean why are you here? Shouldn't you be entertaining the president or something?" You sighed pinching your nose, to be honest you were getting a little hot and bothered that he was so close to your face. The rapid beating of your little lovesick heart proved evidence for this.

"Yeah you're right I guess, but why're you wearing my jacket hm?" smirking, leon looked at your face that contorted in embarassment. Cute.

"Are you just being stupid or do you actually have amnesia? You told me to keep it" you shot back.

"That's right.. most people wouldn't wear it to a fancy place like this though.." he trailed of. He wanted to ask you, he wanted to ask you if you liked him. No, if you loved him.

"I'm just wearing it to cover my shoulders, c'mon leon stop being a douche and get back there" you gestured to the party down past the foyer.

"Kinda wanna see you in that jacket.. on it's own"

He finished looking into your eyes searching for any discomfort, anything that would make him put a stop to this all.

Your cheeks were dusted pink, you were flattered. You thought that maybe leon returned your passionate feeling towards him. You wanted to try something.

You yanked him by the belt forcefully, and collided your lips against his. He began to encourage the kiss. His right hand cupped your small face deepening the kiss, while his left slithered around your waist hugging it tightly.

Kisses in sync, it felt light and airy. But then it became something far darker and more lustful.

You pulled back, inhaling deeply. You'd done it, you kissed him first. You stared at him, but as your glance got lower you saw something quite.. humorous.

His hard on was streching against the fabric of his dress pants. You giggled, putting your hands on your hips.

"Oh? What's that there Mr Kennedy"

"Not quite sure myself, better fix it soon you brat" he looked at you with a venomous gaze.

Oh it's on. You grabbed leon by the arm making sure nobody saw the pair of you, entering the lavish restroom, probably the cleanest you'd ever seen, tugging him along to the very end stall which happened to be the most spacious, perfect for the lewd things you had planned.

"What are you-" you shushed leon, forcing him to sit on the ground, undoing his belt rapidly. You threw his belt to the ground, you could feel your panties becoming wet your clit ached for some contact.

"Strip." You commanded leon, pulling at his shirt.

"Sorry, but following a women's lead just isn't-" you sat directly on his lap, right on where he needed you most.

"Well this women isn't going to help you with your little problem then, is she?" You moved around slightly, causing leon to groan grabbing your hips to still you.

"Fuck, didn't know you'd be such a whore" leon pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.

"Oh leon, I'm a lot more then that." Trailing your small hands across his broad back and chest. finding a precious spot on his neck you closed in and began to give him the love he deserved. You bit into his skin, sucking on it lightly swirling your tongue before pulling back.

The love bite stood out, telling all that he was yours and only yours. He moaned deeply, extremely turning you on.

"Fuck, I wanna touch you to baby" leon tugged at your dress. You admired the artwork of angry red hickeys you'd blossomed onto his rough skin.

"You wanna touch me hm?" You stood up, your hands squeezing his shoulders teasingly.

"Fuck yeah, sit on my face now." He demanded. It made you light hearted and giddy knowing that he was finally yours for the taking.

You hitched up your dress, brandishing the cute little thong you were wearing.

"You were wearing that this whole time? You knew this was gonna happen hm?" Leon smirked at your proud form.

"Well i wasn't entirely sure Kennedy, but i'm glad it worked out" sighing in relief once you slid of the thong, your wet as fuck pussy being exposed to the crisp air.

"C'mere" leon grabbed you by the butt, squeezing it in the process. He leaned against the wall, as you lowered your pussy onto his lovestruck face. You felt his nose poking you and you moaned, you started gyrating your hips against his pretty face. "Ohh leon yes!" You whined, but gasped when he grabbed you stopping you from moving anymore stopping your build up.

"Not so fast baby, your doing all the work" he planted your pussy back onto his face, and you let him get to work. His tongue worked wonders, as he licked stripes up and down your pussy folds. He sucked on your clit, the lewd slurping noises adding to the intensity. You let out a high pitched moan. "yeah i wanna here you cry like that, say my name baby"

He was devouring your cunt, making you lose all the sanity you had built up. You grabbed his golden hair, gripping at the roots. He began to rub your clit in fast little circles, quadrupling the pleasure instantly. Arching your back upwards, you cried out as you felt your climax approaching rapidly.

"Ah fuck leon! I'm gonna-"

Before you could finish you came gushing all over his face, but he continued to lick it up like icing on a cake. you gasped, become overstimulated extremely fast you were already approaching your second orgasm when he pulled away.

"What the fuck? why'd you stop" you hissed from the loss of contact.

"You can't cum again unless you help me with my little problem" chuckling he beckoned you over to his lap.

Swaying your hips slightly you sauntered your way over to him, plopping yourself straight onto his hard on. you felt it poking you, it was rock hard by now pretty painful to your guessing.

"What can I do to make you feel better Mr Kennedy?" smirking, you brushed his wild strands of hair out of his pretty face.

"I want you to fucking ride me right here right now" he groaned, feeling the weight of your bare pussy on his cock.

"I didn't know you were into cowgirls" you purred, you got of of him and began to pull down his underwear. his cock sprung free, and you looked at its oh so delicious tip. it was completely covered in his precum, the tip a blushed colour that had you humming with satisfaction.

"Now let your cowgirl ride you." you grinned, lowering your ass as your pussy came in contact with his cock. you slowly slid down on him, making him groan.

"Fuck your so tight, god damn" he could feel you wrapped around him, squeezing onto him for dear life. he pulled the top of your dress down, exposing your tits as you moved up and down in fast little motions.

"Fuck no bra either?" he moaned, licking his lips before grabbing one of your breasts licking and kissing the delicate bud. to far gone into the pleasure his cock was giving you, you struggled to respond your chest heaving up and down. the wet noises that your cunt made as you bounced on his cock were music to his ears. heavenly he could say, grabbing your other nipple and twiddling it with his rough padded thumb.

He admired you struggling to take his cock, the cute little bump his cock made indenting your stomach. "ah leon.. you feel so.. so good!" you managed to cry out. this made leon snap, grabbing you by the hips he began slamming you up and down. Up and down his cock making you squeal and mewl begging for more. you were his own personal toy, his little cocksleeve he could use whenever he god damn well pleased.

"Yeh, you like that you slut?" Leon could tell you were close to releasing, removing one hand of the bruising grip of your hips he spanked your ass it slowly changing to a bright ruddy red. it stung but pleasure coursed through your whole body while he gave you the most exquisite pounding of your life.

You released all over Leon's stomach, the opaque liquid glistening. "shit, that was hot" he flipped you in reverse, so he was on top. pinning you to the cool tiles, he started to drill into you. he chuckled when he saw your euphoric face, babbling you managed to speak up. "gosh I love you, I really do!" face tinged pink from this 'workout' you started leaving thin scratch marks across Leon's back.

"What was that angel? I didn't hear you"

"I said I love you!" you practically yelled it, Leon clamped a big hand over your mouth. didn't want the whole fucking world knowing you guys were fucking in the restroom next door.

"Your my favourite.. you know that?" Leon questioned you, his hips beginning to slow and stutter.

"M-mine to!"

"I'm your favourite to?" staring at you nodding fast, he let out a guttural groan before releasing deep inside you.

Collapsing in your hold, he hugged your form.

"That was the best I've ever had" you sighed, embracing him back.

"The best sex? Oh sweetheart there's so much more I could do." Still inside of you, Leon pecked your cheek.

"Did you really mean that you love me?" His serious face made you laugh.

"Leon! Of course I've liked you for the longest time.. but I didn't know how to say" he stroked your hair, finally pulling out of you.

"Well that makes two of us.. and I love you to" his warm skin contacted with yours making you feel at home.

"So why don't we get the hell out of here, make an excuse that your sick or something" you suggested.

"Great plan.. your gonna be the sick one though, got to be the gentleman you know?" he winked, you returned a gleeful smile holding him dearly close.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil #resident evil smut #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x you #re x reader #resident evil 4 #re4make #re4 leon #re4 leon smut

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thesunisatangerine · 6 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either.

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door.

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other.

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space.

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?”

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response.

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?”

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine.

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway.

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.”

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.”

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV.

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold.

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this.

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras.

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth.

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you.

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you.

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm.

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.”

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.”

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back.

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you.

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing.

Then it was your turn to gasp.

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck.

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure.

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: i think this is the halfway point guys for this one #ik alexia mentioned somewhere that she has dinner with her family on fridays but for this fic's sake i made it to saturdays lol #also i have a backlog of ideas i wanna start writing but i really wanna finish this one first #just a side note this part is 4.3k #so on aggregate this is officially the longest fanfic id written so far.#hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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thyrinea · 30 days

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Till - An Alien Stage analysis

Vivinos just dropped the teaser for Round 6. And after watching it a couple of times, I feel like I can finally understand why people were telling that this round is potentially the most emotional one yet. So here are my thought about Till as a character, and what we might expect from him in the upcoming Round. But before you go on and start reading, I want to make two quick disclaimers:

My native language is not english and sometimes I might make some mistakes, and I'm sorry for that. I'll try to make everything as cohesive as possible on this post so we don't have any miscommunication.

In the analysis, there will be a small mention of suicidal thoughts and a whole section on human experiments. If you're uncomfortable with those topics, please don't continue.

If you're ok with everything, thank you for continuing and I hope you have a good read! (Also, if you want to add something please feel free to chat with me! I love to see more theories and takes on everything)

Let's start this analysis from the very beginning, or at least the first event that we know of in regard of Till: his time at the adoption center.

(Timestamp: 00:22 - 00:24 - Teaser)

From what I gathered, this scene was first seen as a sneak peek from Vivinos' patreon and it's most likely one of, if not the very first time both of them - Till and Ivan - has seen each other. As a "troubled" kid, it's dificult to catch the eyes of someone and make them willing to have you, and seeing the discounts placed on his captivity window, we can only assume that he stayed in the adoption center for quite a while now. It's no wonder that Till is watching with awe as Ivan is being escorted away: he probably got adopted and is leaving the establishment to live somewhere else, leaving the rest only to hope to be the next chosen one. We all know that in reality, being adopted by the aliens is not a synonym to having a good life in this scenario. But for a child who has been locked in this tiny room for possibly weeks, still not knowing how society works for them, it's a dream to finally be able to get out and possibly be loved by their adopted "family". So imagine Till finally getting out of this place, after all he went through there - being rejected, seen as an unwanted individual - only to get trapped in an even worse scenario: Being used as a human experiment.

(Timestamp: 00:06, 00:11, 00:16, 00:19 - Teaser)

We can see those images are depicting something that happened after the adoption center because he's older now. We don't know how much time he had to experience those events, but if we go back to Round 2, there are some instances where he is far younger and can be seen with green stickers similar to the ones on his neck shown in the 4th image. Not only that, even on his performance on Round 2, we can see them on display. So there is a chance that he had to deal with all of this for years. Yes, he was not alone during everything, but we don't know what happened to everyone who was in this same scenario. All we know is that the faces seen on the panel during the teaser, was never once seen again.

(Timestamp: 00:19 - Teaser)

It even seems that one has perished in one of the images shown in the teaser. For all we know, everyone but Till might be dead by the time Alien Stage begins for the main cast... And living in fear not knowing if you're going to be the next one to die during an experiment is a really terrifying reality he probably had to face. And yet, during all that, he even had to go to Anakt garden to train to become a singer, and possibly go to Alien stage.

(Timestamp: 00:57 - Round 2)

At least, somewhere around his time on Anakt garden, he found something worth living for: Mizi. She became his beacon of light. We don't know what happened but knowing Mizi's character, she has probably shown him what happiness looks like, maybe became the first one to interact with him and show him he's someone. Not a product, not an experiment, but an individual. And he really wanted to continue having this feeling again. To be happy, just like her, with her. This admiration that flourished from him is most likely what made this crush Till has for her blossom. It's kind of an unhealthy dependancy if we put the spotlight on this relationship, he would even go as far as refuse to escape from everything with ivan - who is shown to be the only other person who interacts with him, that he considers a friend - and have freedom if she's not present. It's as if he doesn't know if he can truly be happy if she's not around. I'll make another analysis on Ivan and Till's relationship on the kindergarden once Round 6 goes live. Trust me, if I start talking about them here, I would literally not shut up and the analysis would have another 1000 words. But for now I really want to emphasize how both are seen as "weirdos", and started talking more because they really only had each other. Despite the differences and the bickering, Till holds Ivan close to him as well.

(Timestamp: 00:19 - Teaser)

And now, We're on Round 6: Where Till has nothing to fight for. His whole life was purely a tragedy - he had seen and experienced some of the worst things that a human could go through in this world, and despite trying his best to fight against all odds, he's back on square one. He's been defeated. Mizi is missing, and in his eyes, possibly dead. And now he is going against his childhood friend, literally the only person he has left, on a battle where he knows and only one will get out alive. I won't be surprised if in the beginning he'll be willing to sacrifice himself for Ivan to win and live. Through the whole teaser, the voice singing in the background is muffled. Till is so out of it that he's not able to realize what's going on, even the shots he's in is in pure black, as if nothing around him matters anymore to him. That is, until the voice in the end gets clearer and we can finally see the stage for the Round. Can't wait to see what we have in store on April 5th. My theory is that this might be a 2 pov video, and later we'll get to know more about Ivan's take on everything. Specially because finally he might be able to make Till see him for once. Who's going to die? I hope no one. But we're talking about Vivinos... We can expect anything on this project. All I know is that I might die if we get some parallel to the meteor shower scene shown in black sorrow.

#alien stage #alien stage till #alien stage ivan #alien stage mizi #vivinos #I am so normal about Till yall #I might die of anticipation before round 6 airs

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breanime · 2 years

Note

Let's say, Aemond is seeing Reader for the first time and can't help what he is feeling...lust.

When his mother invited your family to King's Landing, Aemond was less than interested. He was preoccupied with his studies and training, he had no use for frivolous ladies flouncing about the court. When your family arrived, his mother greeted them personally, accompanied by his sister--who was eager to have another young woman about the castle--and Ser Criston Cole.

Aemond, however, was locked away in the library, studying the history of the Red Keep.

Still, he couldn't avoid socializing with you and your people for long. And he wasn't that hard to find.

"You should see the Lady Y/N," Aegon swaggered into the library, clearly drunk in the middle of the day, "She's a sight," he paused when Aemond fixed his with his cold, one-eyed stare, "I meant nothing by the phrase," Aegon said weakly.

"Mm," Aemond went back to his books, "What do you want, Aegon? I'm busy."

His brother laughed, "Our presence has been requested. Mother wants us to formally introduce ourselves to Lady Y/N," he leaned forward, swaying a bit on his drunken feet, lowering his voice dramatically, "It seems my insufferable wife has asked her to stay in King's Landing as her companion, and her father has agreed."

Choosing to ignore the comment about their sister, Aemond sighed, finally standing up, "You know you are not to touch this girl," Aemond said, looking over at his older brother, "She is highborn, it would bring shame upon our house."

Aegon rolled his eyes, "Don't be boring, brother," he grinned as the two walked through the vast halls of the castle, "I won't do a thing to the girl... until she's wet and begging for it."

"Such talk is unbecoming of a prince," Aemond said back, not looking at his brother.

Aegon scoffed, but straightened up when they turned the final corner where Alicent was standing with Helaena and you, chatting about the changing seasons.

And that was when Aemond saw you.

It felt like all of the air had been stolen from his lungs. Never before had Aemond felt such a tingle, such a heat go through him. Such--

--desire.

You were more than just a "sight". You were a goddess, an angel, a temptress, a dream. Aemond barely even registered his mother introducing them, Aegon as the elder, and then presenting Aemond. You were his singular focus, and he stared at you, his one eye drinking you in, starting from your feet, up your enticing body, all the way to your perfect face. He had grown quite skilled at overcompensating for his lack of vision, he noticed things much faster than the average person, took in details and memorized them perfectly because if he did not, he would be at a disadvantage. Now, he was grateful for his hypervision, grateful that it allowed him to truly see you. He could feel his lips curl upwards without his permission, but Gods, he couldn't help it. You looked so...

...delicious.

"Pleased to meet you, Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond," you gave a perfect curtesy, and Aemond thought you'd make a lovely wife. The thought surprised him--not since he was a boy had he thought of marriage as anything more than a duty he would one day have to perform. But now, he was imagining you on his arm, and he liked the image that was swimming in his head.

"You will, of course, treat the Lady Y/N with the utmost respect," Alicent said, a smile on her face but eyes hard as she stared over at Aegon, "She is our respected guest."

"A dragon protects what is his," Helaena whispered, smiling as she played with her fingers, "and what is his knows that it belongs to a dragon."

Aemond tore his eye from you to look at his sister, she looked up and gave him a smile. When he looked back at you, you were smiling as well.

"I have heard much of your love of books, Prince Aemond. I am quite fond of reading as well," you said, and Aemond wanted to drown in the sweet tones of your voice, "Perhaps you could recommend a good book for me to read during my stay here."

Aemond felt his heart quicken in his chest, and if it weren't for his mother and siblings being present, he would have marched over and touched you.

Gods, he wanted to touch you.

Instead, he stared over at you, wondering about the softness of your plump lips. "I would much like that, my lady," he said back.

Alicent tore her eyes from Aegon to look at her son. His eye was blown wide, and he had a strange look on his face, an expression she hadn't seen before on him. It almost reminded her of Aegon, but there was no malice behind Aemond's gaze, the way he stared at you. There was interest, curiosity, and Gods help her--lust.

She watched, frozen, as Aemond slowly walked over to you, and she noted the careful tension in his body, like he holding himself back, keeping himself in control.

And you... Alicent could see now the way you lit up when Aemond had walked in, how your focus was singularly on him, and his was on you, Aegon and Helaena had fallen into the background. All there was were the two of you. Even now, as you threw pretty smiles at her favorite son, she could see a smile growing on his lips--a rare sight.

Helaena stood at her mother's side, and her light, airy voice filled the Queen's ear as she spoke, "A dragon protects what is his," Helaena said again, "and what is his knows that it belongs to a dragon."

Alicent took a deep breath. What is his. She put a hand on her daughter's shoulder, "Thank you, my dearest." Alicent turned, "Ser Criston."

The knight appeared at her side in seconds. Alicent did not take her eyes off of you and Aemond. Never before had she seen her son so animated, so singularly focused on something that wasn't his dragon or sword. "Ser Criston," Alicent said, keeping her voice low, "I want you to ensure that Aemond stays in his quarters tonight."

"My Queen?" Criston turned to her, confusion in his dark eyes. Of the three of her children, Aemond had never been a flight risk.

"I will not have my son give in to base desires," she said, inclining her chin towards you and Aemond.

Criston followed her gaze and saw the way the young prince was looking at you, the way his eye traveled up and down your frame, the tightness of his stance, as if he was fighting to keep himself from touching you. He nodded, "I understand."

"Good," she took in a breath, watching the way her son stood close to you, as if drawn into your space, "Both of their virtues must remain unquestionable...

...I intend to make a match of them."

***********************************************************************

Ok, so that was my first time writing Aemond, so pleaaaaase let me know what you think. He's my current obsession, so I am def open to writing him more if anyone is interested in reading it.

Gif drabble requests are closed for every character except Aemond, so if you'd like to send in a gif of him for me to do a drabble about, feel free!

Thank you for reading!

PART TWO

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond one eye #bre does gif drabbles (again)!#hotd #house of the dragon

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 2 months

Text

Chocolates and euphoria

pairing: cpt. John Price x reader (cod mw)

tags/tw: afab!reader, nsfw, food play, p in v, unprotected sex, desperate sex, slight cockwarming, 18+ so minors please DNI

a/n: a late valentines blurb inspired by this post

John Price MASTERLIST

Just imagine John Price not greeting you by the door when you come home from work, and he's returned from deployment while you were away. Instead, he answers your greeting by beckoning you further into your shared flat with an 'In here, love'.

You drop your things to the floor, more concerned with seeing Price after weeks of him gone than the temporary shucked-off and slipped-out jacket you leave behind in the foyer.

Your flat is not big, but his voice had been faint enough that you know he must be in the bedroom, probably unpacking his stuff, sorting what needs a wash -more or less everything- from the weapons that needed to be locked into the gun-safe.

Imagine your shock when pushing the door open to not find him straightening from a bent-over position of his bag on the bed but sprawled in it with only a measly bit of the duvet, the one you changed yesterday just because you knew how much Price likes to come home and feel free from sand and dirt, over his crotch, legs partly intertwined but giving you a tantalising view of his bare thighs down to his shins, hands behind the pillow propping his head up. You stall, freezing in the entrance as you blink, perplexed at the sight you couldn't even imagine finding your Captain. Not even in your wildest dreams.

"Happy Valentine's, love."

His greeting falls on partly deaf ears. You hadn't given it much thought, even if it was hard not to notice the copious amount of red, pink and white hearts or love-shaped everything you'd passed the last few days on your way home from work. But with a heart-shaped box of chocolate square on top of Price's crotch, it clicks in your head that the 14th of February coincided with his return home.

You let out a short laugh because you seriously don't know how to react to what your eyes rove over again and again.

"Not appreciatin' the welcome-home gift I've got for you?"

Despite the slight shuffle as he props himself on his elbows and the box of chocolates sliding nearly too much to not tug the duvet down with it, your eyes ascend until they meet Price's.

There's an evident mirth practically shining in them, crow's feet highlighted in the edge of his eyes as he attempts to fend off his smile.

With the lack of any and all seriousness concerning the situation, you purse your lips, head ducking into a shake as you can't contain an amused chuckle, moving from your spot.

"Love it", you can barely get the words out. Your feigned straight face crackles as you walk closer, eyebrows scrunching together, chest convulsing from trying to not break into another laugh. "My very own hairy Cupid".

It's Price who breaks the facade with a timbre low chuckle and head craning back as you slow down when reaching the edge of the bed.

"I tried." He gives you a shrug, and you notice the now upward tug of his lips once he looks up at you.

"A very appreciated attempt", you giggle, settling on the side of the bed, leaning to the centre where Price rests.

He meets you halfway, pulling you closer with one hand clutching the back of your neck, almost dragging you down as well, and you need to catch yourself against the mattress in your now twisted position. You both chuckle into the kiss as the chocolates rattle in their casing after your hasty movement and Price's shuffle to get closer to you.

"God, how did you think of this?" You glance down his body towards the most eye-catching object at the moment, smile ever-present like the silent laughter in your eyes when they return to meet him.

"Gaz showed me a not-so-subtitle photo he thought was funny". You closed your eyes, chuckling at the mental image of the situation.

"Should thank him the next time I see him". Price rolls his eyes when you look at him again.

"You and Kyle bother me as much off duty as them two sergeants do on". He scoffs fondly.

You cock your head, bottom lip jutted out. "Don't be too hard on them".

"Easier to chew their ear off than your pretty face", he murmurs deeply with a considerable drop in his voice. "C'mere".

Rather than give in to his pull, fall deeper into the closeness he beckons you; you pull away with a giggle and crawl down the bed until you settle between his legs.

He cocks his head, both elbows now planted on the bed again as he stares down at you, eyeing how your kneeling form is hidden beneath your skirt, the fabric flowing out and filling the space he'd unconsciously given you between his legs.

"Not where I imagined you".

You place a hand on Price's abdomen when he goes to sit up, pursuing your lips with a feigned sad furrow between your brows. "Why? Where else would I be able to taste the chocolates you gave me, John?".

What's not hidden in the perfectly innocent face you pull and direct at him is the glint in your eyes and the way you rap your fingers against his stomach rather than pulling your hand back to your side. But Price decides to play into it.

"Be my guest", he waves his hands towards the box, somehow still balancing enough to keep the small part of Price's covered front hidden.

Oh, imagine the nearly audible gulp, that delicious heave of his chest you only managed to pull out when catching him off-guard, as your slightly cold hands settle high on his thighs as you bend down, keeping eye contact with those blues intently watching, as your lips slot around one of the chocolates, leaning away only when it's securely clutched between your teeth, only for you to raise a hand and with one finger push it into your mouth.

You hum in content, eyes fluttering as you wiggle a little with a smile, no doubt the taste of chocolate spurring your reaction. But Price's imagination is running rampant, the box of chocolates a plastic shield between where your mouth was and the very place all his blood now is flowing to. The taste he wants to fill your mouth is not that creamy delight that's excited you all in your teasing.

You raise your brows as you lick your lips, watching him. Price blinks out of his stupor when you cock your head, realising you're waiting on something.

"What?" His rough and hastily asked question makes you giggle.

"I asked if you want to taste one?"

Price nearly misses your question again when you start stroking your hands up and down his upper thighs, fingers brushing over the place where his thigh joins with his hip. But he does notice your vixen-like offer, purred in that innocently-laced voice you like to dip into when you play with him. And, like always, he walks head-first into the allure of sirens.

"Go on then".

You bite your lower lip in anticipation as you pluck one of the heart-shaped sweets and lean over his body to reach his lips. Price's hands find your waist, stabilising you as he cranes his neck, snagging the chocolates from your fingers, making sure to excessively lick the pad of your fingers in the process. An adorable scrunch of your nose is the reaction he searches for and is rewarded with.

Price only smirks as he falls down against the pillow as he bites into the chocolate.

"So?" You remain hovering above him, both hands now resting beside his head.

"Good, but not as sweet as you". He squeezes your waist.

"God, you're such a flirt tonight". You chuckle with a roll of your eyes.

"Mhm?" He hums in return, the edge of his lip upturned when you look down at him again

"Mhm", you reply, tongue rolling over your lips before catching it between your teeth, offering a smile in return.

A low sound vibrates deep in his chest, his voice sending shivers down your spine. It's silent for a few seconds as you look at one another before gravitating closer.

Your lips are soft compared to Price's slightly chapped ones, telling you he continues to vehemently avoid the chapstick you send along with him when he's deployed, but they're equally as sweet, the taste of chocolate fresh as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He groans appreciatively at your willingness, readily intertwining your tongue with his with a slight sigh.

Price wants you flush against him, feel you after weeks away from you, but when his hand travels to the curve of your back, arms about to wrap around you, you pull away, eyes fluttering open.

"They're different kinds?" You light up; this time, it's hard for Price to know if it's genuine curiosity as your attention falls to the box perched on his lap again. But when you hastily sit down on your haunches again, he can't help but chuckle, watching you pick up another chocolate with intrigue.

Neither of you had anticipated the caramel suddenly pouring out of the half-bitten heart, making you jerk slightly forward. With wide eyes, our gaze falls to the light-brown liquid having dripped onto Price, your eyes flickering between the pooling of fluid in the dip of his hips.

You giggle, and with a quick flicker of your eyes to his and then down again, Price knows what's coming before you move, your intention shining like a beacon in your eyes as you stuff the last bit of chocolate into your mouth and swallow quickly.

He feels the groan rumbling in his chest even before you lick a broad stripe along the skin not hidden by the box or covers. The press of your tongue so close to where he's throbbing for you makes his eyes flutter but never close fully, hips jumping, disturbing the box somehow still resting on his lap. Far longer than he'd anticipated originally.

"God, women", he groans. "That's 'nough of that", Price finally caves to your teasing, hard as a fucking rock and nearly breaking out in a sweat at the swings between lewd and sweet actions you've put him through the last few minutes.

He moves the box of chocolates aside, gently enough for none to escape the box, and tugs you forward until you sprawl over his naked chest. You have the nerve to giggle, but it quickly turns to a gasp as he rolls you over, his weight pressing you into the bed.

The flimsy part of the duvet between his crotch and your lower stomach does nothing to hide his hard and heavy girth pressing into your still-clothed. But as he urges you on your front, nothing but your clothes limits his access as he kicks away the duvet altogether, grinding against your backside with heady rolls of his hips.

"Fuck, missed you, love", he would drawl so sickly hot but sweet at the same time into your ear, making you arch against him. Price would it as encouragement, undoing the sip along the small of your back before tugging your skirt form your body, throwing it aside with much less care than the box of chocolates. Your shirt soon met the same fate.

And when you lay in nothing but your undergarments, you would feel something being placed on your spine, but before managing to crane your neck to see what it is, Price's thumb would crush what you quickly realised is a piece of chocolate filled with caramel, smearing it along your back. Your mouth drops open, eyes flittering to meet his gaze rather than down your back. He's grinning, satisfied his payback worked.

Price would keep your gaze as he lowered himself until close enough to your back that you couldn't see him as much as feel his hot tongue collect the mess he made. You would gasp, head jerking forward, face pressing between the pillows and the mattress. Feeling him hum pleasantly at the taste of you combined with the treat coating his tongue would make the hair on your body stand at its end, your back arching like a wave to get as close to Price's tongue as possible. His chest swells from how reactive you're to him, nearly crooning when he grasps at the fleshy part of your hips, digging his fingers into your skin, eliciting a muffled mewl.

He would take your bra off while licking your skin clean of the treat he smeared across your body, rewarding you with a cheeky nip of his teeth as you wiggle out of the fabric he then discards somewhere.

While Price would pepper kisses all over your back, shoulders and up to the nape of your neck, one hand would slide between your legs, past your panties and graze right over your weeping pussy. A small gasp leaves you as your hips move a fraction, your head now practically going lax at being surrounded by him.

His fingers do wonders to your clit, and more choked sounds leave you as he plays with your body like he never had left and returned with new callouses on his palms rubbing sinfully against you.

The very patience Price is known for, and the cool-headedness everyone who meets him praises, would snap so quickly you could think all those comments were for a facade he kept up. But seeing you desperate, whimpering, whining, arching and grinding back against his hot cock pressed against your ass would do things to the most stoic man.

He wouldn't even bother taking off your panties. Your more than naked state enough for him to paw and grab at. They would merely be pushed aside, hoked somehow to the side by your thigh and ass as he guides the head of his cock over your heat. Low groans and bordering gruffs would press from his lungs while moans and staggering breaths leave you as he guides his cock over your heat to collect your wetness.

Price would groan in pleasure when he finally pushes all the way into you in one slow push, burying his cock so deep inside, the thick head of it kissing a spot that only he can reach. You always felt tighter, wetter the first time he fucked you with all the pent-up frustration and adrenaline yet to subside from his body after a tour.

His burly body would envelop yours as he fell down to his elbows, holding you close as the slow rock of his hips soon picked up speed, the sound of his hips smacking against your ass filling the room.

Your walls would throb, squeezing tightly around his girthy shaft as he pumps in and out of you, whining into the pillows you'd buried your head into before craning your neck to the side his hot breath fanned from.

The kiss would be uncoordinated, tongues intertwining and lips slipping before remaining open as you panted and moaned against each other. Everything tastes of chocolate and euphoric highs as a particularly lewd mewl escapes your mouth and vibrates against his. Price's beard would scrape against your chin and jaw, the scratchy feeling making you roll it onto your shoulder as it added to your overall pleasure, giving him access to your neck. He would shower the newly offered skin in kisses that wouldn't fade just because his lips left, giving some extra love to the sweet spot below your ear that made you clench so deliciously around him.

Your orgasm would crash over you a second later, body twitching, mouth remaining open, panting against the side of his face as he growled a 'there you fuckin' go, feels so good flutterin' 'round me' straight against the shell of your ear.

Price doesn't let up, fucking faster and harder into your pussy while your brows would crease against his forehead as he tries to dip his head to taste you again. But he can't, his own open-mouthed groans met by nothing but overstimulated puffs of silence from you.

And then his thrusts started to get sloppy, bucking every few times until he moaned against your mouth whilst spilling deep inside you, hips rocking and pushing against your ass as if to climb into you.

Price's body weight would press against your back, your arm worming out from beneath your body and around his neck to let him know he could take his time, you didn't mind his heft against you. He would worm his arms around your body, one circling your waist, the other your chest, huffing a sigh of bliss, pleased by your nails raking against the nape of his neck as you caught your breaths.

There was no doubt you'd have to change the sheets again later, either because of the mixed fluids you could feel trickle out of you or the chocolates that, without a doubt, had stained the white duvet.

Taglist: @starlitselkie @melancholyy-hill @redheadonfire20

#captain john price #john price x reader #john price cod #john price x you #john price x fem!reader #john price x y/n #john price x female reader #cod mw2 #captain price #john price call of duty #task force 141 #captain johnathan price #captain john price x reader #john price #john price smut #call of duty modern warfare #cod smut #cod fic

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pigfacedbitch · 7 months

Note

HIIII I'm a big fan of your work and I really love it your writing is amazing , this may be a weird request and if your uncomfortable you don't have to do it , it's fine I completely understand, so it's like merlin and Arthur and the reader and they are all soulmates and it's there first time meeting each other . Thank you in advance

Modern! Reader Gets Transported to Albion

idea : modern world! reader gets transported to Albion and meets Arthur and Merlin. unbeknownst to you and the prince of Camelot, the three of you are soulmates.

type : imagines

word count : 0.7k

pairing/s involved : Arthur x Reader, Merlin x Reader

warning/s : almost drowning, panicking

here is my masterlist!

Note : MY FIRST REQUEST! Whoever you are, thank you for reading my works and I might've changed a little bit in your request. Also, I apologize that it took so long, school has been keeping me busy. I hope you like it! 😊

You've always been a fan of BBC Merlin so when you had the chance to take a trip to Europe, you did.

You went to all the locations where they filmed the series like Château de Pierrefonds and Chislehurst Caves. The last destination is where the Lake of Avalon is; Forest of Dean.

Luckily you are alone, giving you the chance to fully enjoy the beautiful sceneries and serene atmosphere.

It made you feel a deeper sense of nostalgia and melancholy— how the precious characters you loved dearly died and were 'buried' there.

With one last selfie, you were about to walk back to you car when you hear it. A faint voice, filled with sorrow and longing.

"(Y/N)... Save us."

It's coming from the lake.

Something glimmers on it's shore, a sapphire drop necklace with golden chain. When you attempt to pick it up, the world begins to spin.

Suddenly, you were underwater.

Panic builds in your chest not because you can't swim, but an unseen force seems to harshly pull you down no matter how hard you try to stay afloat.

"Help me! Please, someone—"

Air runs out from your lungs when a pair of bulky arms grabs your body and begins to swim you to safety.

"Don't worry, I got you."

I heard that voice before.

The stranger easily carries you to ground, draping a large cloak on your shivering body. Rubbing your eyes for better sight, you look up...

Bradley James?

"Are you alright?"

No. You're certain that Bradley doesn't look that young anymore, keeping up with his latest activities online.

"I told you to be careful, Arthur!"

Turning your head, you see Colin Morgan run towards the two of you with a worried expression on his face.

He looks younger too.

"Ah, Merlin. Fetch the horses, she might need medical attention. May I ask for you name, my lady?"

Arthur? Merlin? Wait... Oh my God.

Realization hits you hard when both men stare at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

The way they speak, their clothes, their appearances... it's exactly the same in the show you binge-watch every Christmas season.

Am I in the show? That's not possible...right?

"W-Where are we?"

"Camelot."

Shit.

You expect someone to go 'You just got punked!'; that would've been better than two men (who you have a huge crush on) staring at you, confused.

You waited for a moment but nothing happens.

This is real. I'm actually in Albion.

Fear and anxiety creeps into your system, as many questions form in your head. Did I die? What's going on? What season is this? How can I ever get back?

Due to the overwhelming emotions, your breath shortens and keeled over.

Bradley, or Arthur (You have no idea anymore), quickly catches you and gently carries you to his horse.

"We must make haste!" was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

Merlin, on the hand, knew this would happen. In fact, he dreams of you.

He sees you in vague images, like old memories— happily kissing his cheek, witnessing him use magic, encouraging him to do another trick, etc.

He already etched in his mind your pretty face, your melodious voice, your playful grin— everything about you.

Then Arthur shares the same experience, dreaming about a woman who's description mirrors yours.

Kilgharrah told him that the woman of their dreams will arrive soon from faraway land and will play significant role in the prophecy.

However, the dragon didn't specify how. He only said—

"(Y/N) is your soulmate, Emrys. She sees you and Arthur in a light no one else ever will."

Soulmates are uncommon, even for druids. Only a few were blessed, to have something so wholesome and pure.

So when he heard your cry for help, he is ecstatic. You have finally arrived. His soulmate... and Arthur's.

He wryly smiles at this. Funny how he shares, not only his destiny with the prat, but also you.

The trip to the castle was faster than they anticipated. Arthur told him to call Gaius and meet them in his bedroom.

It caught the attention of everyone. The prince carrying an unconscious woman in his private chambers will surely stir gossip.

But Arthur didn't care, and Merlin didn't know if he should be proud or worried.

The court physician said you are healthy, they only have to wait for you to wake up. He left to attend other matters; leaving the three of you alone.

"This is her." The prince laughs in disbelief, incognizant of what Merlin knows. "The girl in my dreams, I can't believe it!"

Merlin tries to hide his smirk, Arthur can be so adorable when he's clueless.

"Nor can I, sire."

#bbc merlin #emrys #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin imagines #bbc merlin headcanons #merlin x reader #merlin x reader headcanons #arthur pendragon x reader #arthur pendragon x reader headcanons #arthur pendragon imagines #bbc merlin imagine #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #merthur #soulmate au #colin morgan #bradley james #bbc merlin preferences

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riordanness · 4 months

Text

tolerate it — [p.mellark]

wordcount: 3.9K

warnings: slight death mentions, but bro it’s the hunger games what did you reallllllly expect

requested: yes!! @ornellastreet <33

I didn’t think it was possible for my mood to get worse after being reaped, but hearing his name called out over the loudspeaker definitely made me feel like hitting something.

“Peeta Mellark!” The chipper lady, Effie, is way over the top about all this. I mean, I get that it’s her job and all, but we’re kids, fighting to the death. We aren’t lottery winners or something.

I watch as the all too familiar blond boy’s face goes pale, then stare as he slowly makes his way towards the platform, toward me. He doesn’t look me in the eyes at first, just simply takes his place beside Effie.

“We have our tributes!” Effie squeals excitedly. “Now, shake hands, you two.”

Great. I clench my jaw as I hold my hand out to Peeta. He hesitates for just a second, but when he sees my expression, he quickly shakes my hand.

“Excellent!” Effie claps, and I feel the ridiculous urge to slap her wig off.

“Come along, both of you.” Effie waves us into the back rooms of the Justice Building. As I follow her and Peeta, I glance back over my shoulder, at what is probably my last look at home.

I sit beside Peeta, my fingers tracing the soft blue velvet of the couches in this ridiculously extravagant train car. I stare out the window, watching the world flash by faster and faster, till I get dizzy and have to stop. Then I stare at the floor.

Every part of me is aware of the boy only a few inches away. If I leaned even slightly, I would be brushing shoulders with him.

After noticing this, I quickly lean the other direction. I rest my hot forehead against the cool glass window, close my eyes, and try to pretend this is all a dream.

“Well, well, well.” A drawling male voice comes from somewhere above me, and I wake with a start. I must’ve fallen asleep in my chair, which almost impresses me because I was sure I’d been too scared to sleep.

I squint up and recognise Haymitch, the only living victor of District Twelve. He had a glass of alcohol in his left hand, and is waving the other hand at me. “Up, up!” he insists.

I get to my feet uncertainly, glancing around for a sign of Peeta.

“The boy’s already gone,” Haymitch says. “We’re arrived.”

“Arrived?” I ask. “Where?”

He spreads his hands, like ‘are you stupid?’. “The Capitol, sweetheart. Now come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Honestly? It wasn’t how I’d pictured it. I haven’t ever seen much of the Capitol, but the image in my head was way off. Everything was way more extravagant and expensive and ridiculous than I could ever have imagined.

We’ve been here almost two days now. Last night was the parade, where me and Peeta were basically lit on fire and forced to hold hands while all the Capitol citizens stared at us like we were circus animals. I hated every second of it.

I stand now in my room, on Floor 12 of this stupid tribute apartment complex. I stare out the windows, watching the Capitol go by. My fingers fidget with the satin sleeve of my new top, the most fancy thing I’ve worn to date.

I glance at the clock on the wall, and remember I’d better get going to dinner. Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, and apparently our stylists will all be waiting for me.

I hurry.

At the table, I’m forced to sit beside Peeta, much to my annoyance. He leaves me alone, though, which is more than I can say about Effie, who is peppering me with questions. I answer as little as I can, refusing to give this woman any information worth hearing.

“So.” My stylist, Cinna, gives me a smile. He’s nicer than I thought any Capitol people were capable of, but I didn’t exactly like him, not yet. “Ready for your interview tomorrow?”

“No.”

“I have your outfit ready to go. You’ll prepare with Haymitch and Effie all day, till four, then you’re mine. I’ll make you gorgeous.”

“Okay.”

Effie makes an exasperated sound in her throat. “Can’t you just try to be excited?”

I stare at her, dumbfounded. I can’t believe this. “What, excited to die?” I fake an extremely over exaggerated smile. “I can’t wait!”

Peeta kind of laughs, then immediately tries to hide it with a cough and a glass of water.

I ignore him. I’ve become pretty good at that.

Haymitch smirks. Effie sighs. Cinna gives me a knowing little wink, and Peeta’s stylist, Portia, doesn’t look at me.

I sigh and shove my chair from the table. “Night,” I announce, and storm to my room. I collapse instantly into my bed, curl into a ball, and let the tears come. I fall asleep like that, crying for home, for safety, for comfort.

The next morning, I’m woken by Effie’s ridiculous ‘It’s going to be a big, big, big day!’ The entire day sucks from that point onwards.

Both Haymitch and Effie are at their wits ends with what to do with me during my interview.

Effie has me first, and for the first hour, she keeps her optimistic outlook on my potential. Two sarcastic words from me and fifty-seven minutes later, she looks ready to wring my neck then and there. She hands me over to Haymitch looking ready to cry. I have a tiny bit of satisfaction from that, I’ll admit.

Haymitch looks, I don’t know, preoccupied, the entire of our session. Everytime I say anything, he seems almost jumpy. Eventually I give up and sit there in silence until he lets me go. I have a shower per Cinna’s instructions and wait for him in my room.

I have to admit, Cinna is a genius. His handiwork is incredible. I stand in front of the mirror and smooth my skirts, a hint of my smile on my face.

Luxurious clothing, especially dresses, were never something I even thought of back in Twelve. But it felt pretty damn good to wear one.

The dress is gold, with little pockets of white and yellow and orange and red and silver and black, like fire. When I move, it’s almost like flames are flicking over me.

“This is amazing, Cinna,” I tell him. “Thank you for making me feel pretty tonight.”

Cinna gives me a hug, and a kiss on the forehead. “I’m not allowed to bet,” he says in reply, “but if I could, I’d bet on you.”

This time, I really do smile.

I officially want to die then and there the instant I’m up on that brightly lit stage. I have no idea what to say, or how to act, and I fumble my way through the entire interview. Even Caesar Flickerman, who never seems to run out of funny things to say; who always knows how to keep the conversation flowing effortlessly, is at his wits end with me. It seems to be my only talent; making people exasperated at me.

I leave the stage to the quietest round of applause the world has ever known.

I pass Peeta in the hall, and he gives me the smallest look of acknowledgement. I wish we could just stop pretending to be friends. Nothing has ever hurt me as much as Peeta Mellark has, and I don’t know how to forgive him for it. There’s a tiny part of me that’s almost glad we're going into the Hunger Games. No matter how it goes, I won’t ever have to deal with Peeta again after this.

I go to stand beside Haymitch and Effie, and prepare to watch Peeta’s interview. I wonder what he will talk about.

I kind of feel annoyed at him the longer the interaction goes on. He and Caesar bounce effortlessly off each other, talking and joking about… showers? Anyway, the crowd seems to love it.

Then, everything changes.

Caesar leans in to Peeta conspiratorially. “So, Peeta,” he says in a whisper, but directly into the microphone of course. “Is there a special girl back home?”

“Uh, yeah, Caesar, there is.” Peeta looks a little red at the confession.

I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. We’re about to be slaughtered, and they’re discussing crushes? How ridiculous is that?

“Oh do tell.” Caesar sounds more like a teenage girl than a grown man. “We’d love to hear about her.”

Peeta clears his throat, and looks uncomfortably at the cameras. From my position inside, it’s like he’s staring right at me.

I quickly look away.

“Well,” Peeta begins, “she’s amazing. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I stuffed it up with her once. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”

I glance at the screen uncertainly.

Peeta stares right back out at me. “I’m sorry for what I did. I want to do everything in my power to fix it. I promise. I love you.”

Caesar makes a squealing noise. “How adorable!” he exclaims. “You’ll have to get back to District 12 and she’ll have to forgive you.”

Peeta laughs uncomfortably. “That wouldn’t work, in my case.”

“And why not?”

“Because…” Peeta shifts in his seat. “Because she came here with me.”

I remember very little of the aftermath of Peeta’s comment. I know a flash of fury, disbelief, and shock ran through me at once. I know I dashed off to my room. I know I got out of my insane getup and collapsed into bed. I know I wanted to hit Peeta Mellark for that comment.

But after that, I know nothing.

I wake the next morning feeling sick to my stomach. I have a headache, my body feels stiff, and I’m still irrationally angry at Peeta. Well, it’s not irrational. It’s perfectly fine to hate him for what he did. And ‘apologising’ on live tv? It was like a sick joke.

I slowly get dressed in comfy pants and a loose, light blue blouse. I tie my hair up in a ponytail, and head for breakfast.

Everyone else is already there, But I ignore them all, pile my plate with as much food as I can, and sit myself down on the floor as far as possible from Peeta.

Effie huffs. “Good morning to you too, young lady.”

I answer by shoving a bread roll into my mouth whole.

“Ugh!” Effie is more than annoyed with me, but when I catch Haymitch’s eye by accident, he has a small smirk playing at his mouth, so I figure it’s not all bad.

“Hey, y/n,” Peeta tries.

I don’t reply, don’t even acknowledge him. I’m still so angry, so hurt from all those months ago. His words from back then mix with the ones from last night in my head, giving me a headache to match my heartbreak.

“You’re not… I’m sorry… I stuffed up… she’s amazing… I don’t want to… she came here with me… you mean nothing to me… not like that, y/n… I love you…”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to block it all out. All the memories.

It was a dark, depressing day. The weather sucked, but I guess that just meant it matched the rest of District Twelve.

I was heading home after school, and trying to work up my courage to do something I’d wanted to do for years.

I was going to tell Peeta Mellark that I loved him.

Everyone knew where he lived. The bakery was a pretty, inviting little place. The window was always filled with cakes, all decorated by Peeta himself.

I skipped up the front steps, knocking twice quickly on the dark blue painted door.

A woman answered, Peeta’s mother. “Hello.”

“Hi!” I pretended not to notice her quick glance at my less-than-clean dress, or my coal-covered boots and hair. I knew I wasn't as rich as their family. I wasn’t ashamed, but her look made me sad.

“I’m here to see Peeta,” I told her.

“Ah.” She narrowed her eyes at me, then disappeared. I hear hushed voices, but don’t try to listen in on the conversation.

I just stood there and waited. Soon, Peeta appeared in the doorway. “Hey, y/n,” he says uncertainly.

“Hey.” I decided to just say it—get it over with as quickly as possible. “I like you, Peeta. Like, like, like you.”

Peeta blinked at me, stunned. “You… oh.”

I chewed my lip, suddenly feeling like this was a horrible, horrible mistake. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve just pretended I wasn’t in love with him.

Peeta’s eyes looked conflicted, hurt, despairing. But his words, and his tone, are as hard and cold as ice. “I don’t like you. Not like that, y/n. You… you’re not… anything to me. Just a friend, an acquaintance even. You’re worth nothing to me behind that.”

I physically felt the pain of my heart breaking. I wanted to cry, run, hit something.

“Oh.” I managed. “That’s… that’s cool.” I turned on my heel and ran all the way home.

It’s been over a year since Peeta Mellark broke my heart, and I’ve never gotten over it. Even now, eating my breakfast, knowing we are both probably likely to die in the arena, I still can’t find it in myself to forgive him.

I don’t believe his little stunt last night. It was for the cameras, to make a statement and gain sponsors. He doesn’t love me. He made that pretty damn clear a year ago.

I slam my plate on the ground so hard it cracks in two. A mute, red-haired girl rushes over to help me clean it. I apologise to her, but I can’t stay in this room for a moment longer. I feel trapped, like I can’t breathe.

I find my way to an out of the way part of our complex, sitting against the wall in a little window alcove. I’m overlooking the Capitol central, the citizens milling about in their celebratory days before the Hunger Games.

I feel sick at the sight.

How can they be so enraptured by the horror that is the games? How can they find actual joy and pleasure watching kids die?

“Hey.”

I start, and turn, and see Peeta a few steps away from me.

“Hi,” I say back, a little stiffly.

He gestures at the ground beside me, and I nod. He gently sits down, looking slightly nervous.

“What’s up?” I say dully.

“Uh—nothing much, thanks.”

“What are you doing here?” I have no patience for small talk, especially not now.

Peeta licks his lips and doesn’t meet my eyes. “I actually came to apologise.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. “As opposed to your apology earlier?”

Peeta grimaces. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Haymitch made me promise not to—and, I guess I just didn’t stop to think how you’d feel.”

I look away, trying to ignore the sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah, well.”

“I’m also here to tell you the plan,” Peeta adds.

My gaze snaps back to him. “The plan?” I ask incredulously.

He nods. “This… star crossed lovers angle is really good for getting sponsors. It’ll help us gain friends in the Capitol—people who will want to help us.”

“Because it’s my goal in life to be besties with the Capitol,” I say flatly, and Peeta almost cracks a smile.

“If it’ll help to keep you alive, it is your goal.”

I shrug. “Whatever. What’s this plan?”

“Act like we’re in love.”

I stare at him for a second, then realise he’s dead serious. I deflate a little, but I know deep down he has a point. We need sponsors if we want to have any chance at all of winning the Games.

“Okay,” I say finally. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Training goes for three days, and it mostly sucks. I have zero talents, apparently, except for differentiating deadly plants from safe ones. Oh, I can also tie some knots. Not super helpful. I can’t throw a knife, shoot a bow, lift anything heavier than a couple kilos, or climb ropes very well.

As the third day comes to an end, I feel incredibly useless, and exceptionally hopeless. I’m going to be dead in a day, I can almost feel it.

Peeta actually had a pretty good chance. He’s very strong, and can lift even the heaviest of weights. He’s also a whiz at camouflage and starting fires. All bakery skills, I’ll wager.

As per Haymitch’s instructions, we stick together throughout the training, steering clear of the other tributes. We also touch whenever possible, holding hands, hugging, me letting Peeta touch my hair.

It’s all rather infuriating to me, but if it might help to keep Peeta alive for longer, then whatever. He needs to win. He needs to stay alive and get home to his family.

It’s finally the night before the Games, and to say I was completely terrified would be the absolute truth. I lie awake, goosebumps everywhere. I’m so scared I couldn’t eat anything at dinner, even though I know I should be trying to get up my strength. Who knows how long it might be before I can eat again.

I might be starving in that arena, or dehydrated, or freezing to death. Who knows? Maybe I’ll die right away, in the initial bloodbath.

I sit up in bed, sick of tossing and turning. I climb out, and head out my bedroom door. Surprisingly, it’s not locked. I guess they do have cameras literally everywhere, so they’d know if I was actually trying to escape. Which I’m not. That would be pointless. I’m going to die anyway.

Across the hall is Peeta’s room, and without thinking, I knock on his door. He opens it a second later, and his brow crunches together at the sight of me.

“Y/n?” he asks. “What are you—?”

“Can I come in?” I’m suddenly awkward, realising how weird this is.

Peeta nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Come in, please.” He steps aside and lets me pass. His room is indentical to mine.

I walk over to his bed and sit myself down on the silkily sheets. “Can I stay in here tonight?” I ask, not looking at Peeta.

I hear his bed creak beneath me as he sits too. “Yeah, ‘course you can.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then he adds, in a much softer voice, “Anytime.”

I wake up to the sun shining into the room, and for a moment, I forget entirely where I am, and what’s about to happen. I just sink into the pillows and close my eyes.

Then, I remember. The Games are today.

“Hey, you,” a voice says behind me, and I roll over in surprise. Peeta.

“Morning,” I say back, for some reason grateful he’s here. Having a familiar face to wake up to is much nicer than rising alone, facing the Games all by myself.

“Todays the day, huh?” Peeta asks, sitting up and frowning a little.

“Guess so,” I reply, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t want to get up.”

Peeta laughs, and it’s a pretty sound. Too pretty for such an awful day.

There’s a knock on our door, and Effie’s voice filters through: “Het up you two, it’s going to be a big, big, big day!”

“How does she know I'm here?” I ask, sitting up straight.

Peeta shrugs. “The Capitol has a crap ton of cameras, y/n.”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. Do they really need to know every single thing about us, before we die? It’s all so ridiculous I almost have to laugh.

“I’d better go get ready and stuff,” I tell him, sliding out of his bed. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”

Peeta looks at me for a second, like he’s going to say something big, but just replies with, “See you in the arena.”

“Good luck.” And I’m gone.

“Ten seconds til launch.”

I take a deep breath, feel Cinna’s reassuring squeeze on my shoulder, and I step into the glass tube that will be taking me up into the arena.

“Bye, Cinna,” I half whisper. “Thank you for everything.”

He gives me a smile, that somehow is genuinely caring. “Good luck, my dear girl.”

Something inside the tube clicks, and it slides shut, locking me into my fate. It begins to slowly rise, and so does my anxiety. I come completely out of the tube, and bright, blazing sunlight temporarily blinds me. When I can see again, my throat squeezes in terror and anticipation. All of us are the same distance apart, standing on little pods that I know we can’t step off of without being blown to the sky.

In the middle of the tribute circle is a metal cornucopia, with various weapons and supplies arranged around it, trying to tempt us. I remember Haymitch’s advice to leave it all alone and just run to the woods.

That’s when I remember Peeta. I glance left, seeing a girl from District Seven, I think, who’s also looking in my direction. Beyond her is a tall, dark boy I’ve never really paid attention to other than to get out of his way. I think his name is Thresh.

I squint, frantically trying to locate Peeta. I finally spot him, the farthest tribute I can see to my right. He’s already got his eyes on me, and is shaking his head. Why? What’s he trying to tell me?

Suddenly, the bell is sounding, and there’s a flash of movement as the tributes all simultaneously leave their pedestals, most heading right for the cornucopia. I freeze, my body not reacting at all. I force myself to move, running in just close enough to snatch up a small blue backpack, and then I sprint in Peeta’s direction. I just manage to catch a glimpse of him disappearing into the woods, so I head that way.

About an hour later, I still haven’t caught up to Peeta, or seen any other tributes. Sounds of the bloodbath behind me have faded away now, and nothing but the occasional animal or bird or wind sounds now echo through the forest.

It would almost be peaceful, if I wasn’t where I was.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, someone grabs my arm from behind. I let out a scream, and a hand slaps over my mouth. I struggle, but I’m not strong at the best of times.

“Calm down!” It’s Peeta’s voice. “It’s just me, y/n, jeez.”

I twist him off me and whirl to face him. My glare is almost enough to murder him right then and there. “Don’t scare me like that!” I hiss. “You idiot!” I hit him, half out of the fear bubbling inside of me and half out of relief he’s here and alive and with me.

“Sorry, my love,” Peeta replies, cracking a flirtatious smile. “I won’t do it again.”

I narrow my eyes at him, half annoyed and half embarrassed at how much relief is flooding inside of me at this sight of him, alive and well and here.

“Allies?” Peeta asks.

A laugh bubbles up, and surprises both of us. Peeta laughs too, but then shushes me. “Let’s not get killed just yet, okay?” he suggests. “I’d like to hang out with the love of my life first.”

And for some reason, I don’t even disagree.

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charlottecutepie · 3 months

Text

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ nsfw alphabet (Michael Afton x fem!reader)

tags: p in v, oral sex (m and f receiving), lingerie kink, praise kink, Michael is my bf

Michael art by terphy._.ry

A — Aftercare

Michael's breathing heavily, lying on top of you, trying to realise that everything that just happened wasn't his dream.

His cock is still inside you, and he can lazily move his hips, because poor guy can't stop his arousal, which continues to grow with every second. When that happens, you always tease him by biting his lower lip and whispering, "don't tell me you want a second round?" what makes him blush. But a smile still appears on his face. Yes, he does, but sometimes he's too shy to ask.

Michael also becomes very talkative after sex, asks if everything is okay, if you liked it, sometimes this guy worries too much about your state, but you don't mind. He also likes to shower you with kisses, cooing words of tenderness. He climbs on top of you like a little kitten and nuzzles your neck.

B — Body part

Not gonna lie, Michael likes your breasts. At least he didn't lie. You noticed his fascinated glances at your cleavage from the very beginning, and whenever you said, "Mikey, my face is up here," he just rolled his eyes and looked the other way, trying to change the subject of the dialogue. Yes, he was embarrassed.

Michael loves you whole, don't doubt it. But your breasts are too beautiful for him not to touch them.

C — Cum

If your breasts are so beautiful, then why not cum on them? Michael feels himself damn pervert, but as soon as he found out that you like it, his happiness knew no bounds. Before he always used to ask for permission: "Baby, can I? can I?"

It didn't seem right for Michael to cum inside your mouth while you were giving him head. Despite how hot it was to see your lips covered with his seed Afton felt it was wrong, too dirty, too pervert. But, fortunately for him, his girlfriend is just as perverted as he is.

D — Dirty secret

Afton himself thought that he had no secrets from you, but it turned out opposite.

Michael probably won't tell you, but he would like to try female domination. He doesn't like rough sex, but if you sit on him, put his hands behind his head and start moving slowly on his cock, he won't last five minutes. And if you tell him to not cum? Michael will lose his head.

Besides your dominance, Michael, as mentioned earlier, loves your breasts. And more than once he imagined putting his cock right between them. He thinks he's a complete pervert, imagining it, even thinking about it, but the image of you like that never gets out of his head. Maybe one day he will talk about it, but not in the near future. He's just ashamed.

He's not sure if this can be called a dirty secret, but he likes petting. When he fingers you, his thumb rubbing your clit and you wrap your palm around his twitching cock as you both moan into each other's mouths.

E — Experience

He had no experience (although he said opposite to his friends). Except for the adult magazines that Michael secretly kept under his pillow. But when his father found out about it… History is silent about what happened next.

F — Favourite position

Michael can change positions very often during sex. And there are two reasons for this: 1. He is very horny and wants to try everything. 2. He wants to see your body from all possible angles. He especially likes it when you're on top, so he can watch your breasts bounce.

Michael also likes it when you lie on your back with your legs wrapped around his waist while he hangs over you and fucks you into the bed. In this pose, he can see your face better, so he understands that you feel good.

Michael loves doggy style, fucking you from behind while his fingers dig into your hips and butt. If he's too lost in the moment, he can pull you by the hair.

G — Goofy

Although he sometimes tries to be serious during sex, he doesn't really succeed. It doesn't matter which one of you makes a stupid joke, Michael's face breaks into a smile.

Adult Michael, however, treats sex differently. He sees it as a way to finally rest and relax, to focus on something better than work. He's really thinking about becoming a family with you, but he needs time. He needs to think about it a lot. Despite wanting to have children, he doesn't think he can be a good father to them. He doesn't know what a "good father" is.

H — Hair

Michael had read a lot of adult magazines, and everywhere the articles screamed about shaving the intimate area, especially for girls. However, he hasn't become a victim of marketing, he respects you and understands your choice.

Michael takes care of himself, he shaves, but without fanaticism.

I — Intimacy

You are his first serious relationship, Michael is trying hard. He just doesn't know exactly what to do, he's nervous. Besides, he doesn't have much money to take you out or give you gifts. Despite his silly jokes, the way he behaves with his bully friends, when he's alone with you, he's… calm. You affect him like chamomile tea, Michael becomes quiet and peaceful.

One day you saw him under your window, Afton was holding a telescope.

“Hey, Y/n!” he cheerfully waved at you. “Let's go stargazing! There's the milky Way!”

Michael is trying to make you feel like a princess from fairy tales. And sometimes he succeeds. Although buying you milkshakes and pizza from his father's pizzeria with his father's money is not the best idea, but Michael doesn't care. If only you were happy.

Michael loves spending time outdoors with you, especially in the summer. He runs away from the pizzeria while William is not looking, and runs to the big tree that is your meeting place.

Hugs and kisses on the cheek gives him life. And if there is a river nearby, swimming and playing in the water are provided. Then you ride bicycles, and then you go home to one of Michael's friends. He has a whole collection of vinyl records. When Afton found out that you love music as much as he does, did he feel that he had found… "his copy, but in a female way"? You just giggled at the comparison. And then Michael started teaching you how to play the guitar.

Moments like these will forever remain in his memory.

An adult Michael is just as charming a person as he used to be. He works and earns money, now he can finally buy you something, already with his hard-earned money. One day, he enters house with a box of chocolates. The man's face was tired, and his fingers were tapping nervously on the package. Soaked clothes from the rain completed the picture.

"Hello, honey, this is for you." his tone was calm, you walked up to him, looking at what he was holding. And while he was handing you a gift, he gently kissed you on the forehead. "Today is 5 years of our relationship."

J — Jack off

During the period when his hormones were crazy, Michael did it, especially when the only place where he could see naked women were these damn magazines. However, until William haven't found out.

But now he has something better than these magazines. His beautiful and lovely girlfriend, whom he adores and loves very much. So, yes, Michael is still masturbating, just now imagining you.

K — Kinks

Lace kink: Michael just loves the way you look in your lingerie, blue is his favorite. But in all the colors you look like an angel, Michael doesn't even want to undress you. He can't find the words to describe your beauty. Afton feels envious of himself dating a girl like you.

Praise kink: Michael never forgets to say how pretty you are. He always compliments you, your body, naked or clothed. In return, he also likes to receive praise, even if not in sex, he just goes crazy when you say simple "well done". Perhaps because no one ever praised him, and his father was always cold to him.

He gets shy, but he really likes it when you call him a good boy.

Body-worshipping: Michael can kiss every inch for hours and tell you why he likes this or that part of your body. Once, when he was half drunk, "my goddess" came out of his mouth, which made you laugh rather than blush. The next morning, Michael decided not to talk about it, but you were always teasing him with it.

When he makes love to you in a missionary, he always mentions what a beautiful waist you have.

If you have sex in any other pose, Michael will always find any part of your body that can be praised.

Michael gently kisses your collarbones and goes down to your breasts, takes your nipple in his mouth, covering it with his saliva. He sucks it and pulls it slightly, causing you to sigh. While his palm gently squeezes your other breast.

Edging: He never told you about it, though it wasn't necessary. As your fingers circled over his tip to bring him closer to cherished climax, Michael let out a strangled sob. You took it as a sign that he wanted to cum, but the sudden "No, wait, wait…" caught you off guard. You stopped your movements, giving your boyfriend a worried look, thinking that you had hurt him.

But Michael had a deep blush on his face, his lips, already swollen from your kisses, were slightly open, and his breathing was erratic.

"Please… Wait, I don't want to cum yet." your lips stretched into a smile, yes, you understood what he wanted.

L — Location

You tried to do it at his place once. And you both regretted it. No matter how quiet and careful you were, Mr. Afton always knocked on the door as if he knew.

Just as Michael leaves a kiss on your neck, pulling up your t-shirt, there's a knock on the door.

"Michael? I need you to help me refuel the car." William's voice is heard outside Michael's room. Michael clicks his tongue.

Just at the moment when Michael starts to unzip his jeans, thinking that he has already helped his father with everything he could and no one will disturb.

"Michael, help me to carry parts for Freddy."

It was even funny. Well, at least William was knocking.

This left Michael with unpleasant memories, and he promised himself never to have sex in his house.

But that didn't stop him from fucking you in the bathroom of his father's pizzeria.

M — Motivation

When you show that you want him, when you take the initiative.

When you're the first one who starts touching and kissing. When you sit on his lap and start running your hands over his body. He especially likes neck kisses. Michael had never felt so loved.

When you kiss him passionately, pulling him closer by his t-shirt. And then you pull away, quietly whispering into his lips: "my parents arent home right now." This prompts him to say, "aeriously? why are you telling me this only now?" before he kisses you again.

Michael loves it when you put on lipstick, especially if it's dark red, it looks really good on you. And what turns him on is when you kiss his neck, leaving lipstick stains on his skin. Or, when you two hug and cuddle, it all ends with you showering kisses all over his face: cheeks, chin, eyelids, lips. After that, the Afton's face looks completely smeared with lipstick.

One time he got angry when one of his friends commented that you have a nice ass. Michael couldn't believe his ears at first, glaring at Simon. "Wait, what did you say again?" After the conflict, Afton got a bruise under eye, which got you many questions.

But before you could ask them, Michael's hands pinned you to the wall.

N — No

It's pretty obvious, but Michael would never hurt you. No matter what your kinks and fetishes are, whether you like being treated roughly in sex, Michael is unlikely to behave like this. He has made enough mistakes, and he would never want to repeat the same ones with people he loves.

He won't degrade you even if you ask. This guy likes to tell you how beautiful you are, how tight you are, how good your pussy feels, but he will never insult you.

Michael doesn't like all these BDSM and other strange fetishes either.

An adult Michael wouldn't want to take you with him on his night guard shift, no matter how much you ask him to. It's still dangerous.

O — Oral

He's always up for it, you don't even need to ask.

Michael likes to give you pleasure, and as long as his girlfriend is happy, so is he. He loves it when you guide him by holding his hair. When you moan his name and squirm while he holds your hips so you won't pull away. The idea of asking you to sit on his face has been wandering in his head for a long time, but he is too shy to say so. Therefore, he hints with jokes.

Afton loves it when you make him feel good. He usually becomes very noisy, making moans, even sobs. He tries to control himself, but he still pushes his hips into your mouth, which sometimes makes you cough. Michael likes to put your hair in a ponytail and watch you, but then he doesn't last long. You're too beautiful in his eyes.

P — Pace

Michael wasn't experienced the first time, and neither were you. But you always told him whether you liked the way he moved or not, which helped him find the perfect pace.

Although, when you moan "Harder, Mike" in his ear, he still gets confused.

Michael is afraid of hurting you, so he always asks if he can move faster.

His pace is slow at first when he enters. He seems to be drowning in you. When his cock is inside, Michael can't help but moan plaintively. He likes the way your wet pussy squeeze him. Then Michael starts moving, sensually and slowly at first, hitting all your sweet and sensitive spots. After that, you both start moving in unison, faster. Your hips lift in response to his thrusts, asking for more and his pace accelerates.

Q — Quickie

Michael is a big fan of foreplay. Before slipping into you, he always prepares you, takes time to stretch you, and what can you say — he just loves kissing and cuddling. So, he doesn't really like quickies, but he will never refuse if you ask.

Especially whenever you're wearing a skirt, Michael will tease you by touching your inner thighs. But then, when his teasing gets to the point where you feel your panties are soaked and the outline of his erect cock is visible through his shorts, jokes come to an end. And you two need to find a place where you can fuck, quickly.

R — Risk

Michael hated doing the chores his father assigned him at the pizzeria. Put this away, do that, bring those papers. Michael protested to William by pinning you against the wall of the pizzeria and kissing you possessively. This, in the eyes of Michael, is a real risk. It's a pity that William didn't care and Michael still got a scolding.

The adult Michael stopped liking risk. He's risking enough at his damn job so all he wants at home is some peace. Especially in the morning, on his day off, there is nothing better for him than to wake up in the warmth next to you, rays of the sun breaking through the curtains. There is nothing better than realizing that today he will not go to this cursed place, but will be at home with his beloved.

He turns around and sees you sleeping on your side, your back facing him. Afton hugs you from behind, pulls you to him, hearing how calmly your heart is beating. But then, when you wake up, stretch sleepily and accidentally press against his groin, Michael takes it as a sign. He begins to cover your neck with weightless kisses, murmuring "good morning, baby," hugging you to him like a little puppy trying to keep warm.

His fingers caress your curves, slowly and lazily moving down your stomach. You keep answering his questions and telling him your dream. Michael smiles and nuzzles your neck, snuggling closer. He dreams morning would always be like this.

"Michael," you call his name, feeling something hard pressing against your butt. "Did you even listen to me?"

S — Stamina

Michael usually lasts 13 minutes, sometimes less. Just because your pussy feels too good. But after a short break, he asks for a second round, which you happily agree to.

T — Toys

Even though he says he doesn't need them, you know he's lying.

Michael is just like that, he can deny it all he wants, but as soon as you pressed the vibrator against his cock, it immediately twitched, reacted to the vibration. Michael was gasping for air, his brows drawn together pitifully. You continued to torture him with toy, running it all over the base, especially paying attention to his tip, which was already leaking with pre-cum. Afton's hand grabbed your wrist, squeezing, as if telling you to stop. You continued to please him.

Yes, Michael hated to accept it, but he liked it, and not just liked, he wanted to repeat it.

However, he later took revenge on you with the same toy.

U — Unfair

Yes, sometimes he teases you on purpose to hear more of your moans and pleas. It's like honey to his ears to hear another "Please, Mikey!" from your mouth. Sometimes he can rub his cock against your wet folds, teasing not only you, but also himself. He likes the fact that you're already needy, even though he hasn't entered yet.

Afton also can't take his eyes off you when you put on a skirt or a short dress. The summer in Utah is always so hot that you usually dress to a minimum, but it's good for Michael. You know that he likes your outfits, maybe even too much, when he puts his hand under your skirt.

V — Volume

He's loud, you're loud.

Michael can't help but moan when you have sex, although you're not complaining. His voice is very attractive, especially when he moans your name. But his tone can change, it depends on his mood, even pose. At times his voice sounds high, a little whiny, he almost whimpers.

Adult Michael is more calm, usually from him coming deep sighs and quiet, low groans.

W — Wildcard

You were walking through the school corridors talking to your friend. She's been asking a lot of questions about Michael since you announced your relationship to her. You kept walking as soon as you caught the voices talking loudly outside the classroom door. You noticed a very familiar voice with a british accent. Of course, that voice belonged to none other than Michael Afton.

"God, why do you have such crooked hands?!" a familiar voice shouted.

"No, dude, it looks ridiculous." the other replied. "She won't even eat it, it looks disgusting."

"That's because you ruined everything!" Michael's voice rang out again.

You exchanged glances with your friend, both smiled. Curiosity grew with every second, although Michael had argued with his friends many times before, but this dialogue interested you too much. What were they doing?

You open the door and enter the classroom, guys' argument stops immediately. Now their heads are turned in your direction. A funny, but contentedly cute picture appears to your eyes. The school desk around which Michael and his friends are standing, everyone stained with cream, especially Michael, his nose and fingers in it. And the reason is the cake, which looks incredibly delicious because of the abundance of cream.

"Well, cool." one of guys says, folding his arms over his chest. "Is that your girl, Afton?"

"My girlfriend, Frederick." Michael corrects him, giving his friend an annoyed look.

The longer you stay in one place, the more guys' eyes are on you. Michael takes a step closer to you, looking guilty.

"It was supposed to be a surprise…" he mutters, sighing.

"He wanted to sing you a rock song!" Simon laughs behind Afton's back. You notice that your boyfriend's cheeks are slightly pink. How sweet. "And throw a cake in your face!"

"Damn it, Simon! I didn't want to throw a cake in her face!" Michael snapped.

"What? You should thank me, I'm actually making excuses for us!"

"Yeah, our cake doesn't look like a gift. It's more suitable to throw it in someone's face." Frederick enters into the dialogue.

"Guys, I know who's face it'll be!" Marcus exclaims with malicious joy. As soon as he manages to pronounce the first letter of Michael's younger brother's name, you cough loudly and subdue him with a look. "I mean, really? Are you saying that I sacrificed my life in vain, distracting Michael's dad while he was stealing mix for cake?"

"Michael," you come closer to him, smiling. "Don't worry, I really liked the surprise. Cake looks very appetizing." you cheer him up by looking into his eyes. Michael can't help but smile.

"Really? Cake looks terrible…" Mike purses his lips.

"Well, sorry, I'm not a baker." Frederick's voice is heard again.

Your gaze falls on the guitar, which lies near the school desk. Michael's friends didn't lie about the fact that he wanted to give you a little concert.

"So what song did you want to sing for me?" you caress Michael's cheek. And then notice small sparks of joy appear in his blue eyes.

X — X-ray

15-16 cm.

Y — Yearning

When you first started having sex, Michael realized that he got crazy about you. After he had been inside you and realized what it felt like, he wanted more and more. His hormones were just bubbling, and every time he could, he tried to hint at sex.

So every time you kiss, Michael always asks if you want to go further. No matter how horny he is, he also respects you and doesn't want to pressure you, much less force you.

Z — Zzz…

It's rare that you can sleep after making love, because you usually do it when you can. For example, when William isn't around, this is during the day.

Although one friday night, when Michael was at your place under excuse that he was staying with a friend, it happened. You finally did it in your bed when your parents weren't home. And after sex, Michael… couldn't shut up. Oh, he had so much to say, so much to share!

Adult Michael began to appreciate the word "sleep". After sex, he falls down next to you and looks at the ceiling, talking to you about absolutely everything. However, one day he asked such a… strange question. "Do you think a robot can put on human skin and walk around as if nothing happened? It would be fun."

And then, after a few minutes, he turns on his side to face you and begins to doze off. "Michael, no. Mike, don't sleep! We still need to take a shower!"

#michael afton smut #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x reader #michael afton #michael afton x reader #michael afton fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x you

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reidsdaisies · 6 months

Note

Heyyy!!!! Could you please write a blurb, drabble or headcanon about Spencer wanting to be a househusband or how would he be as such??!? I’ve been watching The way of the househusband anime lately and it sparked the idea. I love your writing and have a great day 💕💕💕

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; househusband spencer reid x gn bau!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; you literally read my mind!! I’ve been wanting to do something about househusband spencer ever since i did spencer x housewife reader! and i had way too much fun on pinterest looking for inspo pics 😭💞 here’s a board i lowk love, I think it’s just adorable if anyone wants to know what I’m picturing — ׂׂૢ

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— i know i said he’s a terrible cook before, but in this universe i think he would have spent a lot of time learning how to cook and bake so he could cook you homemade meals and delicious sweet treats to show his appreciation for how hard you work to put a roof over the two of your heads

— he wears cute ass girly or flowery aprons when cooking and adorable oven mitts, fight me

— he has an unhealthy attachment to his kitchen aid mixer, will talk about how much he loves that thing. you’re concerned.

— excellent and very precise with cleaning 👌 scrubs at the bathroom sink till you can practically see your reflection in it and dusts every damn crevice of your house

— very passionate about the projects he gets into. like if he decides he wants a garden, omg he will commit. he’d probably want a house with a big backyard with enough space to build one of those cute vegetable gardens in the back yard and grow you two’s own food. and he would plant big apple and pear trees, would take pride in how great the fruit is and when everything is finally ready to be picked, he’ll make you bring it to work for the team

— AND omg a greenhouse would be his dream to have. everyone knows about his big ass brain and he definitely has extensive knowledge on all different types of plants, exactly what conditions they need to thrive

— along with that, i know he’d be really into lawn-scaping, you two have the best lawn EVER, and im not exaggerating. the back and the front of the house— absolutely beautiful. he picks out the prettiest flowers and makes sure the soil is rich, and ofc trims the bushes to perfection. he’d look so cute with gardening gloves, these or these specifically, and his massive ass, muddy ass gardening boots that are a size too big but he’s oddly attached to them.

— other hobbies he’s picked up include scrapbooking, drawing, painting, and of course knitting & crocheting.

— in one episode, he told Penelope he spent weeks knitting a scarf for his cosplay, and so now I’ve been constantly thinking about the other things he’d knit & crochet for him and his partner. scarfs, mittens, winter hats, sweaters, pot holders, anything he can make, he will make even just to try it out once.

— the pot holders would have cute animals on them or flowers. floral everything. he loves all plants, specifically flowers.

— now that you two own a house together, there’s so much opportunity for him. he’s got his own office AND most importantly, it’s massive and doubles as his own personal library. it’s walls are lined with multiple of the tallest, most spacious bookcases you could find for him, still just barely being able to fit his ever growing book collection on their shelves.

— he’s a house husband, he probably doesn’t have time for the FBI. im not sure if he would be fully a stay at home husband because that would bore him and many people need the help of his big brain so I think he’d spend a lot of time in his office, researching and writing articles probably most having to do with finding a cure for schizophrenia.

— if he were to also be a professor while married to you, i don’t think that would happen unless you’re imaging later seasons reid, but personally I’m imagining seasons 6-11 (minus season 8 with the maeve story arc) for this.

— i could maybe see Penelope and him owning a buisness/website together for both their crafts, of course Penelope would run the website and handle all the technical things.

— you and spencer have Penelope over on weekends and off days to chit chat while knitting or painting mugs or canvases. sometimes you’ll invite JJ, Emily, and Derek over but Emily and Derek would drag you away to the kitchen to get wine-drunk and gossip while JJ would be decorating the frames of her kids pictures and copying silly mug designs she found on Pinterest for Will.

— whenever you’re not on a case, and you’re friends aren’t available or you two aren’t feeling ver social, that’s when you finally get to be the sweet, lovey-dovey married couple you two are at heart

— for fun, you guys always bake brownies, cookies, cupcakes, and what not together, that ofc, he insists you take into work to show off his beautiful decorating skills. they’re not that beautiful but you still like to tell him they are to boost his ego and make jokes about how he should work at a bakery. a bakery would never hire him.

— you’ve given him the nickname of ‘cuddle bug’. why? because he’s such a gosh darn cuddle bug. will curl up to your side for hours while you finish any necessary paperwork and you two talk about the most recent case you worked while he’s mindlessly drawing little butterflies and hearts on your back

— after particularly rough cases, he runs you two a bubble bath to just soak in and spend some much needed and well deserved alone time together

— mentioned this in my housewife head canons, but you two would take turns giving each other back, shoulder, foot, or really anywhere needed massages. he’s all fancy with it, bringing out coconut oil and shi but you just let him do his thing, you’re getting a free massage, no need to complain about that

༉‧´ˎ˗ bonus; you two have movie nights every friday where you lounge in the living room eating nachos and watching tv. surprise, he always weasels his way into getting to pick what you watch. even bigger ‘surprise’, it’s always Star Trek or some scientific documentary.

anyways, that’s all i can think of for now, but if anyone has anything they want to add, please talk to me about house husband spencer through my inbox !! i will do anything to feminize this beautiful man

#reidsdaisies #reidsdaisies spencer <3 #spencer reid #house husband spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x male reader #househusband spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom

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thee-horny-thicky · 11 months

Text

Savior

So, a few weeks ago @polariae gave me a fantastic story idea! The whole thing can be found on my AO3, but here's a snippet from it, featuring Geto having some ✨alone time✨

Suguru didn’t believe in love at first sight. No matter how strong your feelings may seem, it was impossible to fall in love with a stranger. He did, however, believe that lust had no time frame. You could see a stranger walking down the street and feel lust toward them, without a word ever being spoken. Because, unlike love, lust was based purely on physical attraction. And he knew for a fact that he was lusting after you.

Hard.

After just 24 hours in your presence, he was undeniably intrigued by you. You were a strong, pretty little thing, that was simultaneously meek and assertive. And your body…

The feel of your soft skin hadn’t left his mind since he bathed you, nor had the glimpses of your nude figure. He’d made good on his promise not to peek, but the water could only conceal so much.

The sight of you in his T-shirt and shorts had driven Suguru wild and made the long walk to Nagoya tortuous. The city had millions of people, allowing you all to blend in with the crowd, and was far enough away from the Jujutsu strongholds of Kyoto and Tokyo. He’d kept a straight face, but knowing you were wearing his clothes, which still had his lingering scent made a sense of possessiveness invade him. He barely knew you, but that hadn’t stopped him from being satisfied, or admiring how well you wore his garments.

By the time you all stumbled upon a motel on the edge of Nagoya, he was painfully hard. If it wasn’t for his oversized shirt, the tent his dick had created in his sweatpants surely would’ve been visible.

Being the gentleman he was, he allowed you and the girls to freshen up first. But when you came out of the shower in nothing but a towel, he’d nearly come undone on the spot. At record speed, he hurried to the bathroom, barely remembering to grab himself a towel.

Freezing water cascaded from the showerhead and onto his body, but it did nothing to halt his arousal. Even as he began to shiver, his hard-on remained, giving him no choice but to take care of the problem.

Suguru bit his lip to stifle the moan that wanted to escape as he stroked his cock. One hand was resting against the tiled wall of the shower, while the other was tugging at himself. His hair was down and plastered to his skin, obscuring the edges of his vision.

His eyes were slammed shut, and his breathing grew hollow as he imagined your hands instead of his. It might’ve been the result of his recent dry spell, but he was already dreaming of all the positions he’d put you in. He was sure you were untouched, and the thought of teaching you – corrupting you – only made him harder.

His hand quickened as he pictured you laying beneath him, your hair sprawled onto the pillow, your knees touching your shoulders as he pounded into you. He knew that your fucked-out expression would be delectable, and the sounds you’d make would make his thrusts more frenzied.

A groan left him at the thought of filling you up and watching his cum drip out of you, marking you from the inside. You’d feel so good, he wagered, that pulling out would be an impossible task.

He began to jerk his cock faster, his other hand wandering to his heavy, cum-filled balls as his core began to tremble. His breath grew shakier, and soon, his hand and the shower wall were covered in his seed.

With a sigh, he removed the showerhead and let the water clean up the evidence of his carnal desire. Even when he began to scrub his body, the erotic image he’d conjured of you stuck in his head. He couldn’t wait to find out how accurate it was.

A/N: It was so hard to pick a color for this man, so I just chose the gold and yellow of his robe as the text colors 😭

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk smut #savior #solo smut #Geto jacks off while thinking about you #That's the #snippet #ao3fic #ao3 link #ao3 #this man has my whole heart #I don't care that's he's toxic #he's my babygirl #geto x reader #geto x you

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romancingstars · 2 months

Text

DRUNKEN MONOLOGUES

And you’re draped on him, whilst you’re staring at me.

remus lupin x reader

part 1 of drunken monologues

warnings : alcohol consumption (not as much as first suggested) , infatuation at first sight (remus lupin is so pretty , he takes care of u , hlp me

yet again another repost, hope you guys enjoy it just as much as the first time round ! all these r kinda shit sooo

title’s stolen from : no.1 party anthem by the arctic monkeys and come closer by miles kane

“Moony!” Sirius shouted, walking over to the lanky man. You were clinging onto Sirius’s arm, giggling over whatever joke he had just told about the Sex Pistols. Something about Malcolm McLaren probably. “I’ve found my dream lover! Knows The Clash and Pistols. Even, Public Image I mean, come on it’s the way to my heart.” he stated, gesturing to you. Dragging your eyes away from Sirius, you peered up at Remus and your jaw went slack. He was your type to the tee. Tall, thin, soft brown locks and full lips. The scars only made him look even better. His everything was completely and utterly perfect in your not so humble opinion.

“Happy for you Pads.” Remus said, rolling his eyes. Then, he looked down at you and the worst happened - he caught you staring. Your open mouth, which you were practically drooling from, was a slight give away that Sirius was no longer your top priority. Only a slight giveaway. “Oh, shit.” he muttered under his breath.

“Oi! What’re you staring at him like that for? You didn’t look at me like that.” Sirius whined, looking down at you.

“I like your music taste, and your hair. You’re fit. But, him? He’s fucking gorgeous.” you replied, pointing over at Remus. The very little vodka you had consumed must’ve gone to your head because you never would’ve said that in a normal state. However, you didn’t remove your arm from Sirius’s. Mostly for balance, which was a little selfish, but desperate times. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to avoid Sirius’s gaze of pure disbelief.

“Not to be rude Remus or anything, but you seriously think he’s better looking than me? I know he’s fit, but I’m me.” the black haired boy argue, flicking his eyes between the two of you.

“You’re both good looking, he’s just more to my taste. Look at him, he’s so pretty. But, in a different way to you. See you’re all tidy and your hair is in better condition than mine. He’s so.. oh I just want to bite him. What’s his name again?” you rambled, never taking your own eyes from Remus. The taller man was trying desperately hard not to laugh at Sirius’s complete shock, which was an almost impossible task.

“Fine then, go hang off of his arm.” Sirius said, holding you out towards him. You immediately stumbled towards Remus, by your own choice.

“Gladly. Hiiiiii.” you cooed, using his shoulders for balance. “I’m really quite tired and— Oh. Shit. Think I need some air.” you added, holding onto Remus’s bicep for dear life. Your knees had buckled and the brown haired man barely caught you. However, his hands did reach your waist to keep you stood up straight.

“Think you need something more than air. Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Remus replied, chuckling lightly at the way you were peering up at him. “Think you hurt Sirius’s feelings.” he added, continuing on the conversation as he sat you down outside of the house.

“Reckon he’ll get over it, he had a swarm of fans following him around. Got me absolutely pissed though. Not on purpose, I was just trying to keep up with him.” you said, rubbing your temples. Your speech was fine, but your legs were a little wobbly. Everything just felt slow. You realised you weren’t that pissed at all, just nervous in Remus’s presence.

“Yeah, he tends to have that affect on people. What’s your name again?” he said, quoting you to you. He smirked down at you. It was a little comforting to know he was genuinely paying attention to you.

You mumbled your name to him and tried desperately hard not to imagine yourself wrapped up in Remus’s arms. Or tucked away asleep in his bed, kissing him or dancing with him in your living room. With alcohol still flowing in your system, you decided now was the perfect time to make another move. “Meant what I said about you before, by the way. You are- indescribable.” you stated, staring up at him once again.

“Yeah? Glad you think so, you’re also drunk.” he replied, sitting down beside you. His face flushed slightly and you saw, but decided that commenting on it might scare him off.

“Mmmhm, maybe you should give me your number and, and your home address. Then, the next time you’re free so I can show you the prettiest book shop. I’m just assuming you like books, you seem like the smart type. By that I mean you dress like and old man, don’t get me wrong I’m into it, but you do.” you rambled, eyes following him as he moved beside you.

“Really? I’ll give you my number and I do like books. Good assumption?” he chuckled and his hair flopped in front of his eyes. You wanted to eat him, which is an odd statement really, but it was the truth.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you,” you pointed to him as you spoke. “walk me” you continued, pointing at yourself “home.”. Your hand moved into the direction you thought home was and then it struck you. You didn’t have the slightest clue where you were.

“Oh? Right, you’re going to let me walk you to your home?” he taunted, trying desperately hard not to laugh. Disappointed, you frowned at him. “Sorry, ‘course I’ll walk you home, love.” he added, guilt spreading across his chest at the sight of your frown. You smiled; he smiled.

“Okay, so. My friends, kind of, dragged me here. And I don’t know where I am, or how to get home. So what if you walked me to your home? you offered, grinning over to him sheepishly. You felt a little guilty, dropping that on Remus all at once. But, you’d leap at the chance to spend anymore time with this man. Wanting to get to know him inside and out, you were desperate to continue talking to him.

“This you making a move on me?” he said, smirking once again. “You can come back to mine, by the way. Might as well go now, can’t see this party getting any better.” he added, standing up. Offering out his hand to help you stand, Remus gave you a half smile and you were sure you could’ve died in that moment. Taking his hand, you stumbled into his chest. ‘Typical’ you thought to yourself as you frowned at the cliche of the situation.

“Sorry. I want cookies, do you have cookies at yours?” you said, gripping his hand tightly as you walked. He smirked down at you, laughing slightly. Remus couldn’t quite believe his luck. Not only were you absolutely breathtaking, you were also quite infatuated with Remus. The situation ensuing was one he was sure he could get very used to.

The walk back to Remus’s apartment was filled with conversations of interests: music, books, films and hobbies. Hand in hand, the two of you discovered you had a lot more in common than expected. Even despite your contrasting opinions on certain topics. (Cough star wars cough). Remus fumbled slightly with the key before unlocking the door to his apartment holding it open so you could walk in.

“It smells of you.” you stated, looking around at the warm hues which flooded the room. You moved into the lounge; you thought it was the cosiest room you’d ever seen. It screamed Remus. One couch and an arm chair, different pieces of furniture picked up from the side of the street and charity shops. Small coffee tables, shelves and a TV tucked into the corner all built up the atmosphere.

“Funnily enough, it’s where I live.” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone. His hand gently pressed against the small of your back, ushering you out of the living room’s doorway. He gently gripped your waist as he moved past you and into the kitchen. “Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?” he offered, looking over the breakfast bar at you. Currently, you were glazing your fingers across the spines of books stored on a shelf in the lounge.

“Hot chocolate please.” you mumbled in response, picking out ‘The picture of Dorian Gray’. “This is a bit beaten up.” you commented, giggling lightly as you flipped it over in your hands.

“Dorian’s had a lot of love, what can I say.” he said, smiling over at you as he pulled the mugs down from the cupboard. Then, he filled and began boiling the kettle - a very mundane task. You quickly put the book back and began admiring the rest of his collection. Carefully, you read the blurbs of books you didn’t recognise You tried to ignore the feeling of Remus’s you following you. Truthfully, he was admiring you and wondering how Sirius of all people had been the reason you met. You didn’t seem like the type for Sirius at all, which sort of explains why you were in his apartment now. He needed to ask you out and soon, Remus told himself. Maybe it was all in the wrong order, but he didn’t care. He was in fact just as desperate to get to know you as you were for him.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #i love remus lupin #sirius black #remus x reader #remus x you #punk!sirius #i will not have sirius black turned into a personality less twink but he can be a punk rocker twink

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