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skzdarlings · 3 months

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lady-like ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by anonymous: ❛ i'd say you need someone to put you in your place. ❜ W CHAN I BEG OF YOU + original ask: requested by anonymous: “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address”+ Chan <3

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: enemies to lovers, established lovers. criminal!chan, masked!chan. dom!chan, sub!reader (background mentions of switching). choking, floor sex, rough sex, dirty talk. brief mention of some sexism in the workplace. word count: 2050 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

It is the middle of the night and you are patrolling the art gallery yourself. You do not trust your colleagues or the security team tonight. No one believes there is any way to track the SKZ gang but you have found an undoubted pattern. That motley band of thieves have struck this gallery more than once, making off with paintings and artifacts alike, but tonight you will catch them.

Tonight you will catch him.

Your thought conjures him like a devil. You turn a corner and a gloved hand escapes the shadows, covering your mouth. You are yanked backwards, right into his chest, your back to his front.

You feel a moment of satisfaction because ha, you were right. No one believed you but you knew SKZ would strike tonight.

Then you are furious because those rotten thugs are probably making off with a priceless artifact while their leader holds you hostage.

“Hey there,” Bang Chan says in that too-friendly drawl. “How’s my favourite girl tonight?”

You try biting his hand but the leather of his glove is quite thick. Probably on purpose. You have left more than one bite mark on him in past encounters.

“Ah-nah-nah,” he says, steadying you when you wriggle. “Stop that. We both know how this ends. Let’s play nice this time instead, yeah?”

You answer by stomping on his foot and throwing your head back. The smack surprises him and he stumbles, giving you an opportunity to turn and brace yourself in a more defensible stance. You face him, hands up, adrenaline thundering through your body.

Chan is wearing all black, including a beanie and mask. He removes the hat, revealing hair just as black, but keeps the mask while rubbing his jaw. The half-hidden face somehow makes the dark intensity of his eyes look even more severe.

You and Chan have a played a long game of cat-and-mouse. You are so used to his teasing that you almost forget he is dangerously competent man. A criminal. A criminal you despise. A criminal who is undoubtedly grinning at you under that mask, given the way his eyes crinkle with mirth. It should not make your heart race.

“Ouch,” he says. He takes a step towards you, inching out of the shadows. “You’ve been training. Impressive.”

“Not like I had a choice,” you snap. “Some no good criminal keeps attacking my art gallery.”

“Criminal, yeah,” Chan says. “But no good? Really?” He flicks a hand your way, not so much striking as testing your reflexes. You bat it successfully and his eyebrows lift, showing he is moderately impressed.

“You’re a dirty thief,” you say, taking a swing of your own. Yours is much more deliberate, swinging at his head, but he dodges just as easily.

You scamper backwards, his booted steps following swiftly. You keep your hands up in defense. He is still smirking under that mask.

“Thief, yeah,” he continues to tease. “But dirty? Well… I suppose you’d know…”

Heat pulses under your skin.

This cat-and-mouse game has crossed many lines. You cannot even remember how it first happened. It feels like Bang Chan has always been in the shadows, stealing paintings and kisses alike. One moment you were snarking at the infuriating cat burglar, then your hands were in his hair and his mouth was on yours.

Sometimes he wins, distracting you or holding you, giving his team time to make off with something. Sometimes you win, trapping him or his men and only letting them go if they relinquish their prize. Weirdly, Chan seems to like it when you outsmart him. It quite literally puts him on his knees.

Flustered, your next swing is more emotional than strategic. He catches your arm and spins you again, trapping you against his body. You grunt and struggle in his arms.

“That’s not very polite, you know,” he says. “I thought you said you were a lady.”

Yes, you have made such an insistence in the past, reminding him you are a lady of class, an educated woman, an intelligent academic. He did not argue. He did pin you to the wall and choke you in that infuriatingly delicious way, the way that gets you coming all over his hand in a second. That’s it, he said, with a hand around your throat and another under your skirt. Tell me what a lady you are. Letting a criminal like me make you come. Tsk, what would your co-workers say?

You stamp the memory down because it is getting you hot. He is holding you differently than before, so you cannot swing your head back again. You writhe uselessly.

“I didn’t just say I was a lady,” you snap. “I am a lady. I am a respected professional, unlike you—”

“I’m respected and professional, thank you,” he says, his tone still bright like he is having fun.

It is fun. You hate to admit it, but it is. Before he started breaking into your galleries, every day was the same. Your life was such a monotony and you dread returning to it. There is a reason you never call the authorities on him. There would be no triumph in that demise. You would lament his absence and forever feel like business went unfinished.

You are satisfied when you can face this dangerous man and win, when you can push him on his back and put him in his place, when all that danger and power and skill surrenders to you and you alone. Because Bang Chan has a notorious reputation for a lot of things, but fraternizing with civilians is not one of them.

Except you.

Except right now.

“You know what I say, little miss lady?” he asks.

He gives you no time to answer. Your breath catches when he circles that gloved hand around your throat and squeezes. It softens every part of you immediately, like a kitten grabbed by the scruff, instinctively and animalistically submissive in the claws of something powerful.

You whimper, your knees going weak. You know you are wet. You know he knows.

He pulls you against him. You can feel every hard plane of his body, his bulky body armour, his weapons. You feel either a buckle or his bulge against your body, but either way it is irrevocably suggestive. When you wriggle, he squeezes your throat, and you go pliant again.

“I’d say,” he whispers, “you need someone to put you in your place.”

Oh, he has talked about your place many times before. It’s with me, he will insist, fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come again and again, putting you on your knees and bringing out all the hidden dark and dirty parts of yourself. Come on, he will say, we’re perfect for each other, yeah? You know it. Join my team. Come with me.

You do admit, he respects your keen eye and talent, and he acknowledges your expertise far more than the other people at your gallery. It took a year to even be allowed to do substantial tasks, relegated to fetching everyone’s coffee, getting spoken down to because you were a woman whose ambition was considered a nuisance.

That is not enough to resort to a criminal life. Surely?

But for a moment, you can imagine giving into the darkness permanently. Tonight, it is you that surrenders as he drags you both into the shadows and onto the floor. He takes off his jacket and lays it out, pushing you down face-first onto it. You take a dizzying gulp of air while his hands are occupied, removing his gloves, unbuckling his utility belt.

You wait for the moment he lifts your skirt. His breath catches when he realizes you are not wearing anything underneath.

You yelp because he smacks your ass. You look back at him with as much fury as you can muster in your haze of lust.

“A lady,” he says, grabbing your hips and tugging you back. “Sure.”

“I am,” you say, but your voice is rough, your breathing heavy just from his bare fingers gliding down your wet pussy, the evidence of your desire betraying your claims of propriety.

“Sure, baby girl,” he says, because he knows it annoys you even while it makes you clench. He can see the evidence of that too, swearing as he looks at you, making you feel even more exposed and flustered. “You’re made for me, you know that, sweetheart? Always feel so good on my dick. God.”

“You’re taking your time tonight,” you say dryly. “Getting sentimental? Turning into the slow and gentle type?”

He laughs. Then he grabs you by the neck, pinning you to the floor as he sidles up behind you. The head of his cock presses at your entrance, wet with anticipation.

“You want gentle?” he asks. He is inside you with one deep thrust. “Wrong fucking address.”

The truth is, even when rough, he is careful. Your face never leaves his jacket and he knows where to squeeze and hit and press properly. Bizarrely, ridiculously, you are safe in this criminal’s dangerous hands. The biggest threat they pose are just how skilled and deft they are, making you forget about all of those details as he manhandles you and fucks your worries away.

He wraps a hand around your throat and lifts you. He is still in his mask, still almost entirely clothed except his undone fly. Your skirt is up, your shirt in disarray, your chest and throat exposed to his hands. You can hear him panting into his mask, your own breath as wild until he steals it. You clench around him, making a weak, ragged sound as he chokes you and pounds into you.

“You’re not gonna come like this, are ya?” he taunts, because he knows your body well, can feel you are the on verge just from his angles and rhythm. “Tsk,” he says. “That’s not very lady-like.”

You would tell him to shut up, but you can only manage a weepy moan as he drives you over the edge of a mind-numbing orgasm. You feel drenched, dripping down your thighs, and he still doesn’t relent, pushing you back down and holding your hips as he drills through every sensitive nerve.

“Fuck,” you say, twisting your fingers around his jacket. Your knees will probably be bruised after this. No short skirts or everyone will know something happened. Would they guess you let the most notorious burglar in the country arch your back and fuck you on the floor? Probably not. You have always been a stickler for rules.

Until this. Until him.

“Chan,” you say, breathless, rasping. “Chan.”

“Fuck,” he says. Then the weight of him is on your back, his hips grinding into yours. His masked face brushes your ear and he speaks in a low voice, “Guess where I’m coming tonight, baby girl.”

Your walls are still fluttering with aftershocks, pulling him deeper at his words. It is not the first time, no. God only knows how long ago that conversation first happened, telling him it was safe, how much you wanted it. Letting him do things you never let anyone else do. Breaking all your rules for him.

“Fuck, Chan,” you say.

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps. “That’s who’s fucking you. No one fucks you like I do. God. You can take it. So good.”

You can feel when he comes, his chest vibrating with his groan, the warmth inside you. You slump in his arms, ravaged and sore and not the least bit sorry for it.

You should be. He won this round. You should be furious at him. You should be threatening him. Your usual rapport.

His mask comes off. You hear it hit the floor. Then he is grabbing your jaw and turning your face and kissing you deeply. He holds your throat, not threateningly but possessively. He is kissing you for so long, you almost forget who you are. Then you surface. You look at each other.

“Come with me,” he says.

The haze of lust has vanished. You should be thinking clearly. You fear, for the first time, you are.

You suppose he has stolen everything else, why not you too?

You put your hand in his.

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan smut #chan smut #bang chan x you #chan x you #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz smut #stray kids smut #valentinesdaystories

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daddy-dotcom · 11 months

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Bang My Line

Summary: You're Penelope Garcia's first intern, and you learn a lot more from her than just her technical skills.

Rating: M

Words:4, 357

Warnings: Fluff, typical canon violence mentions, smut ;)

*reblogs or comments r much appreciated*

Read my newest fic Scents and Sensibility out now 🤭

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The first day was a blur. It was scary enough to completely change career paths, but working for the FBI was an entirely different beast. Between what seemed like hundreds of background checks and interviews, I finally made it to my first day. Granted, I would just be an intern for now, but hopefully this would lead to a permanent position as a technical analyst. I waited in the lobby for Penelope Garcia, the woman who would be my mentor for the duration of my time with the BAU. We had spoken over the phone and even texted back and forth a bit, but this would be my first time meeting in person.

“There she is! My shiny new intern.”

“Hi you must be Agent Garcia,” I replied with my arm outstretched. She took it and gave what was the most enthusiastic hand shake I’ve ever seen.

“Oh honey, I’m way too fun for you to call me agent. Call me Penelope.” I shook my head in agreement and she led me towards the elevator.

“I know I gave you a rundown of the team via our text messages, but be prepared for them to ask you a million questions. You’re my first ever intern and they’re dying to meet the newest member of the team.”

“Duly noted, just know I’m going to be doing the same to you Penn because I’m a little out of my element here.”

“hmm Penn, I like the sound of that.”

As the elevator doors opened, I could see the rest of the team gathered around a desk, too focused on their own conversation to notice me and Penelope.

“Everyone, please welcome my first and only intern (Y/N).”

The man in the crisp black suit stood up first to greet me and introduced himself as Agent Aaron Hotchner.

“Penelope has not shut up about her new intern so it’s nice to finally put a pretty face to the name. I’m SSA Derek Morgan.”

I let out a bashful chuckle as I shook Morgan’s hand. Penelope did warn me that he could be a bit of a flirt. I was then greeted by a blonde woman who goes by JJ and an older man named Agent Rossi.

“Don’t tell me you write in pink sparkly gel pen too?” he jokingly asked.

I smiled and shook my head no, before being greeted by Agent Emily Prentiss.

“Don’t mind Rossi, it’s always nice to have another woman on the team to keep these boys in check.”

She gestured towards Morgan and the other agent beside her, who I can only assume is none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.

Penelope had described him as quote “Steven Hawking trapped in a young Bill Nye’s body.” What I didn’t expect was for him to actually be attractive. Sure, Agent Morgan and even Agent Hotchner were easy on the eyes, but Spencer Reid was strikingly handsome in the most unassuming way. The soft golden waves that covered the top of his head combined with those puppy dog eyes were enough to remind me how nervous I was to be joining the team.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N)” he said as he took my hand. My palms were beginning to sweat, but the steadiness of his firm grasp eased my nerves.

“Likewise,” was all I could manage to say. He held my gaze for what felt like both a moment and an eternity, before releasing my hand.

“Well, (Y/N), let’s get you briefed on your first case,” said Penelope.

I followed Penelope into the briefing room and decided to sit in the seat closest to the screen so that I could take notes on her presentation. To my surprise, Spencer took the seat next to me. As if I wasn't already a nervous wreck, his close proximity to me was going to make my writing even more illegible than usual. Still, I could get used to sitting next to the most handsome member of the team.

As Penelope wrapped up her presentation and the rest of the team departed on the jet, the bubbly blonde gave me a little tour of her office. Rossi wasn't joking about Penelope's love of glitter gel pens, and her desk was adorned with unicorn paperweights and mermaid statues.

"This is your workspace over here, (Y/N), although you'll mostly be assisting me for the first couple of weeks. Feel free to decorate your desk with as many unicorns as you please," she said.

The first hour or so of work was mostly getting situated in my new workspace, but we soon got our first call from the team, and it was from the man himself, Derek Morgan. Penelope pressed the button to answer the phone and his voice immediately came through the speaker for both of us to hear.

"It's your babygirl and her babygirl in training, what do ya need hot stuff?" said Penelope.

"Hey mama, I need you to look into Walter Price's bank activity for the last few months, see if there were any suspicious withdrawals or transfers."

"Anything for you gorgeous"

"Thanks babygirl, I'll be expecting your call back soon."

I sat with my mouth slightly ajar, looking over at Penelope dumbfounded.

"Do you talk to everyone on the phone that way?" you asked.

"Nope, just my sweet lover Derek Morgan."

I paused for a second before asking my follow up question, "so are you two like...in a relationship?"

"Only in my dreams," Penelope said with a wink. I let out a laugh because this whole situation surprisingly made me more at ease in my new job.

"As your intern, I guess it's my job to learn how to answer the phone like you?" I said with a wicked smile.

"Oh no my dear, at least, not yet. We've got a long way to go before you get to my level. And of course you'll have to find your own gorgeous man to talk dirty to, Morgan is already taken."

That definitely wouldn't be a problem, I already had the most gorgeous man on the team in mind.

I spent the next few weeks listening in on Penelope's phone calls and looking up information for her. I even got to help her present a new case to the team. After my first week, the team took me out to celebrate surviving my first case with the BAU. Even though I had become more comfortable around everyone on the team, I couldn't shake the butterflies Reid gave me whenever we interacted. However, I did notice that I was much more confident over the phone than in person. I tried to conceal my blossoming crush on Spencer as best I could, but I couldn't help but be the slightest bit sweeter to him whenever he was the one who called us.

During my second month of internship, we had a particularly hard time tracking down an unsub. Penelope was getting way too many names and she called Spencer to help her narrow down the list.

"There were traces of chlorine and calcium hypochlorite on the body which are chemicals commonly used in pool maintenance, Garcia narrow it down to men over 40 in the area who own pools or work in pool maintenance," he said.

"One name! It's Michael Dunlop, he works as a freelance pool maintenance man and, ooh get this, he hasn't responded to any jobs since the first murder on June 11th."

"Sending the address to your phones right now!" I interjected.

"Thanks (Y/N),"

"Anything for you, cutie" I said, with a sudden burst of confidence.

As I hung up with a satisfied look on my face, Penelope glanced over at me looking smug as ever.

"Cutie huh? That's a new one," Penelope said, "I knew I'd rub off on you sooner or later." And she was right. I started incorporating more color into my work wardrobe and I even brought my tiny stuffed cow to sit at my desk.

"You said I had to find my own gorgeous man to flirt with on the phone...so I did."

"I knew it! You have a crush on our genius boy-wonder!" She was positively giddy just by the thought of it. "I mean he's always sitting next to you and looking over at you when he thinks no one is noticing. You would think in a room full of profilers that I wouldn't be the only one to notice, and yet here we are."

It never occurred to me that my little crush might actually be reciprocated. Spencer was always a bit socially awkward, so I just assumed that he was the same way with me. I never once thought that he was actually as nervous to talk to me as I was to him. This fact somehow boosted my confidence even more, and I decided to have some fun with Spencer over the phone.

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"Cutie huh?" Morgan asked the blushing boy. Spencer was used to Penelope teasing him, but this was different. He had been harboring a small crush on their newest intern for the past month, and when she flirted with him over speakerphone for Morgan, of all people, to hear, Spencer couldn't help but turn as red as a tomato.

Of course, being a profiler, Morgan took notice of Reid's crimson cheeks. "Call me crazy but I think she likes you, pretty boy."

"O-of course not, she's just copying the way Garcia talks to you," Spencer stuttered.

"That may be true, the only difference is that you have a little crush yourself."

Spencer didn't bother trying to lie since he knew Morgan would see right through him, so he just mumbled something about Prentiss and Hotch needing them at the location (Y/N) sent.

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It was a lot easier to flirt with Spencer when he wasn't physically in front of me. When we were in the office together, we'd shoot each other smiles from across the room or he'd bring me an extra coffee in the morning. But when he was out in the field and I was back at my desk at the BAU, it was a whole different game. I tried my hardest to make him blush over the phone any chance I got, and it seemed to be working. After Penelope found out about my little crush, she decided to play matchmaker and slip Spencer my work phone number to call me instead for information. For the first time, I heard my phone ring instead of Penelope's and I immediately answered.

“Give it to me good baby, what do you need from me?” I replied. I knew it was Spencer since he was the only one who had my number.

"Hey (Y/N)" he said, and I swear I could hear him smiling through the phone. I could tell he had become more comfortable with our one-sided phone flirting over the past month. "I need you to look up all of Dr. Gupta's patients at the psychiatric clinic for the past 3 months, see if any of them drive a black van."

"You got it, gorgeous. If you need anything you know you can always bang my line."

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“You have (Y/N)’s number?” JJ asked.

Spencer looked puzzled, “Yea.. don’t we all?”

“I think it’s just you pretty boy” Morgan quipped, as he chuckled and gave him a pat on the back.

Spencer had grown fond of (Y/N)'s phone flirtation, but he was too embarrassed to return the favor in front of his colleagues. He loved watching her walk around the office in her high heels, trying to keep up with Penelope's fast pace. He knew brief glances and morning coffees weren't going to cut it anymore, he had to do something before her internship was over. So he decided to call her on his way home from working the case.

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The team had just finished a case and were on the plane headed back to Quantico. Penelope had plans so she left me to wrap things up in the office. Just as I was making my way towards the door, my phone began to ring. Confused, I picked up the phone and listened to see if it was a misdial.

"Hey babygirl."

I nearly choked when I realized who was speaking. My body involuntarily shivered and my heart quickened its pace. This "babygirl" hadn't come from Morgan, it was Spencer on the other line.

"Hi Spencer! What's up I thought you guys wrapped up the case?" I asked in a confused tone.

"We did, but I thought I'd call you without everyone else around." His voice sounded sultry and silky smooth, unlike his usual rapid rambling, and it made it so much harder for me to speak. "We should be landing in about twenty minutes, stay in your office and I'll meet you there."

"Okay, I'll be waiting here, handsome."

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Those twenty minutes were the longest twenty minutes of my life. I knew Spencer had a crush on me as well, but what could he possibly want to meet with me for? Was he going to ask me to stop flirting with him on the phone? Was he going to ask me out? Was he trying to make out with me? God I secretly hoped it was the latter...

Just as I had been getting lost in my own thoughts, I heard the familiar voices of the rest of the team down the hall. I knew Spencer would be walking into my office any minute, so I nervously fixed my hair and applied the lipgloss Penelope gave me.

"Hey babygirl," said the tall man standing in the door frame.

"Hi Spencie," I said with a smile as I called him the nickname I lovingly gave him, which I'm sure he secretly hates. I couldn’t help but grin since the word “baby girl” still seemed so foreign coming from his mouth. I stood up to meet his gaze as he slowly made his way over to my desk.

"I know you've been teasing me these past couple weeks," he said as we closed the gap between our bodies. I would say our faces were inches from each other, but he was impossibly tall and my face didn't reach past his chest, "but now its my turn to tease you," he said as he brought his hands behind my ears and pressed his lips onto mine. He was gentle and tentative at first, but I passionately pressed my lips back against his to deepen the kiss. I ran my hands through his gorgeous locks and began to tug. We quickly became a breathless mess and I couldn't help the feeling building in the pit of my stomach. His hands traveled down to my waist and he gingerly pulled me closer. He was both hesitant and passionate, not quite sure if he should act on his instincts. He pulled back for just a second to speak:

"I know you only have a few weeks left with us, but would you like to get coffee sometime?" he asked with those same puppy dog eyes that made me fall for him in the first place.

"Oh Spencie, we're a bit past coffee don't you think?" I said with blushy cheeks. "Let's get dinner sometime, I'm free any night except Tuesday, I have Zumba class with Penelope."

"She really has influenced you a lot hasn't she?" he said, making a mental note of the pink scrunchie in my hair.

"In more ways than one hot stuff."

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Over the next few weeks, I spent my days phone flirting with Spencer at work and my nights making out with him in my office or eating Chinese take-out in his apartment. No one on the team, not even Penelope, knew about our brewing workplace romance, and we intended to keep it that way until I was hired permanently. However, that didn't stop him from flirting back on our calls. I was on my last week of internship and I was now the only one who Spencer called when he needed information. Spencer and I had agreed to take it slow, but our most recent calls had me desperate to find out what else he was packing besides the gun strapped to his hip. Just then, a call interrupted my wandering thoughts and I immediately picked up knowing it was him.

“Dayton Ohio you're on the air" I answered in my sexiest voice possible.

"I'd like to make a request," Spencer replied.

"You can request anything you want, doctor" I could hear him chuckle behind the phone before telling me what he actually needed.

"I need you to look up a marketing firm by the name of Firsthand Media and see if they have any connections to the colleges of the first set of victims."

"I'm on it, sugar" I answered.

"Oh and one more favor, look up the words beautiful and brilliant and see what you can find."

"Look at that, it's me"

"You're the best (Y/N)"

I could feel Penelope's eyes on me before she turned around and said

"I've never been more proud."

The rest of the day was filled with calls from the other agents to Penelope, mostly Morgan, until that evening when I got one last call from Spencer. He asked me to see if there were any men who had been admitted to the hospital in the last 6 months for brain injuries, but no one came up.

"Couldn't find anything, looks like you're going to have to punish me Spencie," I replied.

"You'll just have to wait til I get back for that"

He hung up, and I couldn't believe what I just heard. Penelope and I were in shock that Spencer Reid could be so dirty. For once, I was the one blushing on the other end.

"(Y/N) I swear to god if you don't let that man make sweet love to you I am personally writing your letter of resignation"

"Penn! We just flirt is all, like you and Morgan, I could never actually be with him"

"So you two haven't been using my sacred office space to make-out between cases?" she asked with raised eyebrows. I stood there, with my mouth open and eyes wide, looking guilty as ever.

"You do know there's a camera in this office right?" I was mortified. Thank God we'd never done anything more than kiss in this office.

"You knew this whole time? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh Morgan knows, but everybody else is still in the dark because I didn't want to risk you not getting hired. And I hacked into the security computers and deleted the footage."

"Thank you so much Penn, and I promise I won't have anymore heated makeout sessions in this office, or anywhere in this building for that matter."

"Anything for my little protege. But in all seriousness, you should definitely ride boy-wonder off into the sunset and make it official once you're hired."

"Penelope!" I hit her in the arm, only half jokingly because I knew deep down that that's exactly what I should do.

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As usual, I waited in my office for Spencer to meet me. But this time, I was determined to go back to his apartment and finish what we started over the phone.

"Hello beautiful" he said as he made his way over to me. He greeted me with a hungry kiss and it took every ounce of strength I had not to pin him down and ride him in this office.

"Spencer listen, we can't makeout in this office anymore. Garcia and Morgan know about us already and she had to delete the footage off of the security cameras."

"Morgan knows? That present he gave me actually makes a lot of sense now."

"Nevermind that," I said before moving closer to whisper in his ear, "what I need now is for you to punish me like you said you would."

I could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his eyes went wide but faintest hint of a smile appeared on his deliciously soft lips.

"well then what are we waiting for" he said as he grabbed my hand and practically pulled me out of the office.

We wasted no time getting back to his apartment. Reid was always such a cautious driver, but this time he was driving like his life depended on it. Once in the building, he wouldn't let go of my hand and we were practically sprinting towards his door. He fumbled with the key for a moment before the door sprang open and I pushed him inside with the force of my lips on his. His hands had become quite comfortable exploring my body, and tonight was no exception. I tugged on his tie without breaking the kiss and he let out a heavy sigh as I led him towards his bedroom. I pushed him once again, this time down onto the bed, and I practically jumped on top of him to straddle his waist. As I let my weight rest on the growing bulge in his pants, he let out the sexiest groan and I could feel the wetness pooling in my panties. I continued to grind on him as we completely devoured each other. This wasn't the first time we'd done this, but this time it was different, we both wanted more.

"Spence please," I whined, "I need you."

"You can have me baby," he replied, looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes that I adore so much.

We quickly undressed and I raced to climb back on top of him.

"You really are beautiful," he said while tucking a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. I smiled back at him and gently kissed his lips before going back to grinding over his now bare cock.

His groans were like music to my ears and I couldn't help but sighing at the feeling of him gliding across my exposed cunt.

"Baby please, I want to be inside you," he pleaded.

"Do you have a, uh, condom?" I asked, somewhat sheepishly.

"I do...that was actually the 'gift' that Morgan got me," he said followed by a nervous chuckle. He reached into the drawer on the bedside table and, slightly trembling, opened the package.

"I-I just want you to know that I haven't done this in a while, (Y/N)," he began, "I don't know if I'll be any good." He was just as nervous as I was. I gave him a sympathetic nod before replying.

"It's okay Spence, it's been a while for me too. I guess you could say we get pretty caught up in our work."

"Agreed," he said, slightly more at ease.

As soon as he finished up rolling on the condom, I wasted no time lining him up with my entrance and sinking onto his length.

"Fuck, baby" he moaned with his eyes screwed shut "you feel so good." It was insanely hot to hear such foul language come out of Spencer Reid's mouth.

"You want me to ride you baby?" I asked teasingly.

"Yes please..."

I began to bounce rapidly on his dick, feeling every inch of him come in and out of me. I had a feeling he wasn't going to last long, but I didn't care, I was beyond happy to just watch the pleasure that I was bringing him. I took his hands and placed them on my breasts, which caused a simultaneous moan to come from the both of us.

"God (Y/N) you're going to make me cum" he said, nearly out of breath.

I knew he was close, but I was slowing down as my legs began to give out on me. He sensed the slowing of my pace, so he took one hand from my breast, wrapped it around my waist, and began to pump into me from below.

“Consider this your punishment babygirl”

This new angle was heaven to me and I couldn't help but cry out. He was fucking me so hard I swear I could see stars.

"Oh god Spence," I moaned. For someone who has been out of the game for a while, he was making me feel so good.

"I'm gonna...I'm..." he muttered.

"Let it out Spence, cum for me baby."

And with that, he spilled his load inside the condom. He just kept coming and coming inside of me until there was nothing left. Spencer Reid was utterly and completely spent.

---------------------------------------------------------

“Well Dr. Reid, you sure know how to please a woman,” you said poking him in the rib.

“What can I say, I’m an overachiever,” he replied with a cocky smile plastered on his face.

As I was about to go in for a kiss on his cheek, my cellphone rang, and it was a call from Penelope.

“Hello my pretty! Sorry in advance that I’m probably interrupting your sexy times with boy-wonder but I just couldn’t wait to tell you. You got the job!”

“Oh my goodness! That’s great news, thanks Penn! What department am I in?”

“You’re going to be working in the international intelligence department, aaaaand that means you’ll probably have to report your little romance directly to human resources.”

“Sounds good Garcia, we’ll take care of that first thing in the morning,” Reid interjected.

“Ah, so boy-wonder is there with you! Looks like you took my advice after all (Y/N),” Penelope replied.

I rolled my eyes and said “Goodnight Penelopeeee” in a sing-songy voice.

“Goodnight you two, be safe and don’t stay up tooooo late.”

“Aww, what ever happened to the fun Penelope Garcia?”

“She’s not here right now but leave a message, bye!” And with that our conversation was over.

“Guess it’s time to tell the rest of the team about us”

“I guess so Spence, good luck handling all the teasing on your own baby,” I said with a giggle and planted a kiss on his cheek before drifting off to sleep. Tomorrow was surely going to be an interesting day at the office.

__________________________________

AN: Thanks for all the love, shameless plug for my newest oneshot The Visit

Taglist: @alondralolll@irehluvr@abbeyskeff@kaldurahms-lover@mischiefmanaged21@cheerful-clarinet@julesasf69@its-like-twilight@spearbsm@xxrookexx@oliveoilthoughts@twilightlover2007@comboboo@breadrobin@sunflowers-420@the-holy-trinity-l@frickyea-guacamole19@ayatos-wife@ghostheartbeat@famfan-1034@ivyproblems@lavenderrway@rogerismyqueen@talkintrashcann@chatxconverse@phoenix1388@dumbredpotato@ourprisma@autisticallyreid@curvingdoll@strwbymoon@tomorrowxforever@alexabsinthe@myliteralhyperfixations19@cloudy-em@prentisszlover@cami-is-reading@ichundjulia@rubywritesblog@blameitonthenight21@xsophx27-blog@mariezanny@gubes-sweaters@ohmoaohbaby@lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests@secludedstarlight@clockgirl94@theonewhereifangirl@nervousmoongiver@tearsofsound@suburban-forest@unkn0wnnerd@creativeuser101@bigassnocash@chasedbyunclewalt@abbyandersonssecretgfsecretgf@iheartlilia@cryingabta@justsomeimbicel@ssaspencerreidswife@likeawinebottle@imanewsoul@singinghamtaro-blog@lovingperfectionsblog@deafeningmiraclecherryblossom@secretlovezz@inlovewithemilyprentiss@jenthebin@walmartclearance89@theseverefangirl@tulips-ean@gummybear123@myravenchaser@tpickett@librarymousesqueak@pocketful-of-sunflowers@climbingivy97@ghost-wonder@sparrow-winchester@thbckgrnd@mswgtsd@kirmaaa@taliegator@jinecie@unlikelypaintertreeknight@notagirlfangirl@sarahsmiles-user@luvehotch@cosmoscoffeee@ara-a-bird@lesbiansayaishii@itsmeelena@just-a-lil-xtra@willowtree42095@the-way-of-the-hall@theedwardscissorhandslover@thosewhocantdo-teach@slay-and-gay@luvurmind@witchyval@fandom-alley@wifeyreid@samandhislostshoe@whoamiomakeachange@xcastawayherosx@danis-stuff-is-here@love4lando

#criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #penelope garcia #matthew gray gubler #mgg #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #david rossi

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soobnny · 1 year

Text

one more month — bang chan. established relationship. fluff. chan missing you while he’s on tour. (0.6k words)

“Chan?”

It’s 11pm for you when he calls from his hotel room, somewhere oceans away. There’s still sleep dripping from your tone, and he can almost hear the rustling of sheets from your end.

“Sorry baby, did I wake you?” Chan speaks so quietly it’s almost a whisper. He was careful not to shake you out of your silence.

“Mmm, no.” You croak out.

He knows you’re lying, could almost picture you jolting from your sleep at the familiar buzz of your ringtone. The thought makes him swallow, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

“Is there a reason why you’re calling?”

He pauses before answering. Chan has no idea how the fuck he’s feeling right now, but he knows he misses you.

It’s been 4 months since he last saw you. All he has are pictures of you in his phone, and occasional phone calls that will never suffice to the way you sound in person. To the way you feel in person.

Chan stares out the big fucking window from where they’re staying, finding comfort in the thought that you might be looking at the same moon.

He swallows again. “Does there have to be a reason?”

“Of course not.”

“Just miss you.” He breathes out slowly, head tilted on the glass windows. “And I wish— we didn’t have to be so far away all the time.”

He’s thinking of you, imagining how you look right now with tired eyes. He’s thinking of what it would be like if he was there right now. You’d probably be asleep, tangled up in each other’s limbs. It would look uncomfortable from an outsider’s eye, but he knows. Knows how it feels to have your heartbeat pressed against his and how nice it feels.

You sigh. “One more month.”

The tone in your voice is gentle, yet knowing. He knows you miss him too.

“For now, you need to sleep, no?”

It’s 3 in the morning for him, and he’ll have to be awake again in three hours.

“Can’t.” He bites his lip, swallowing hard as he tries to fight the sob brewing in his throat. Your heart clenches at the way he sounds, knows that when he feels, he lets it take over him.

“Will you be able to sleep if I stay on the phone?”

“Maybe.” Shaky.

“Okay. Have the kids been treating you well?”

A smile pulls at his lips at the mention of his best friends, and the topic change does a good job at masking the nauseating pain of missing you. A bandaid. A temporary fix.

“Still loud and stubborn, but I wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“Hmmm, I won’t be surprised if you come home with a head of white hair.”

He laughs at the thought, running a hand through his hair. “I think I’m already starting.”

“Then Seungmin calling you an old man is justifiable, then?”

“I don’t think I like you teaming up with the boys against me. You’ve signed up on my team the moment you said yes to being mine.”

You laugh from your end, and Chan’s heart flutters at the sound. He can almost see you with your crescent eyes and the cute scrunch on your nose, the one you do when you cackle.

He tries not to think about it too much. Tries not to picture himself right there with you. He knows it’d only rip the bandaid he’d desperately plastered on himself.

“Not sleepy yet?”

“Just a little.” He admits quietly, a yawn escaping his mouth.

There’s stifling from his end, and you can only assume he’s slipped himself back into the covers of his bed.

You keep telling him stories, no matter how menial, anything to keep him company. You know he just needs to hear your voice, has told you before how simply hearing you comforts him—it’s a calm only you can offer.

Chan breathes in and out slowly.

It’s four in the morning now, and there’s quiet snoring in the background.

“Goodnight Channie. One more month.”

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grandprixwinnerlandonorris · 6 months

Note

Hello darling I have Lando x fem!reader’s request✨🥹

Sooo I HAVE THIS “You must need to be fast on track, but you can’t get me so fast” ON MY MIND

So the reader and Lando are pretty close and very touchy, she works for McLaren, maybe as a lawyer idk; so they spent some time together, especially in UK, but she always goes to Monaco. ANYWAY during a party (maybe after one of his podium) he gets very close to her, always a hand on her back, and at some he trying to express his feelings for her, idk he would do something very clingy soo she stopped him and said *that*.

So that night they come back together to his hotel room, kissing each other, but they finished cuddling. Because he wants to do the things seriously.

I'M BAAAACK!!! Don't know for how long tho, I had this sitting in my drafts for two weeks and felt like editing while Lando's stream played in the background. I thought I'd get so much more writing done once the winter break begins, but it looks like apparently I'm on a break too cause no matter how much I want to get things done, my brain is just like nope keep watching that show until the guilt of all the requests eats you away. So, my apologies to this anon for waiting for months and all the others that have sent requests, I'm not ignoring you, I'm just going through some difficult time currently, but hopefully it will get better soon. Not really satisfied with this, if I'm being honest, but really liked the idea which required a lot of research and banging my head against the wall to make it all work and fit, and really wanted to get it done. So I hope you enjoy! :) ♥

Trackside Temptations | Lando Norris⁴

The atmosphere in Silverstone was electric during the peak of racing season, filled with the aroma of success and bubbly champagne. Lando Norris, rising star in the world of Formula One, had just secured a spot on the podium, his heartbeat echoing in sync with the joyful cheers of the crowd, and was eager to join his team at the luxurious after party to celebrate their victory.

Navigating through the throngs of people, Lando couldn't ignore the rush of excitement mingled with a hint of anxiety. Though he prided himself on his unwavering confidence and determination behind the wheel, there was one individual in the room who could effortlessly rattle him – y/n, a sharp-witted lawyer whose support had been vital to Lando's success in his career.

As Lando made his way over to you, he couldn't help but feel the butterflies in his stomach begin to flutter. He had always admired you from afar, but tonight, he was determined to make a move.

You were dressed in a stunning red dress, your hair cascading in loose waves around your shoulders. You looked up as he approached, and he couldn't help but feel a jolt of electricity shoot through his body at the sight of your eyes.

"Congratulations, Lando!" you said, opening your arms for a hug. "You were incredible out there today."

Lando felt his heart skip a beat as he pulled you into a tight embrace, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your perfume and feeling the softness of your body pressed against his.

"Thanks, y/n," he said. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for always being there for me." he pulled back, his hands lingering on your arms.

"Of course, Lando. It's been an honor to support you through this journey." your voice was warm and sincere, and your smile reached your eyes, making them crinkle at the corners.

"Come on, let's join the others," Lando said, gesturing towards the rest of your team who were celebrating nearby.

You smiled and took Lando's hand, feeling a thrill run through your body at the touch of his skin against yours. As you made your way over to the group, Lando kept his hand firmly in yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a silent show of possession.

The British Grand Prix after party was in full swing, and amidst the cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses, Lando and you found yourselves standing by a makeshift stage, watching your colleagues perform an impromptu karaoke session. The sight of your usually serious team members belting out pop classics with reckless abandon brought a smile to both your faces.

"Never thought I'd see the day when our chief engineer would sing Spice Girls," you remarked, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Neither did I," Lando replied, chuckling. "I bet they'll never live this down."

As you shared a laugh, Lando felt grateful for the easy camaraderie he had with you. You could always find something to laugh about, even in the most stressful situations. It was a testament to the trust you had built over the years, and it only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

"Seriously though, y/n," Lando said, his tone shifting to one of sincerity. "I just wanted to extend my gratitude again for everything you've done for me. You've been a true ally, both on and off the track."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at the heartfelt praise, but you brushed it off with a playful grin. "Well, someone has to keep you in line, Lando. You're lucky I'm so good at it."

"Indeed, I am," Lando agreed, smiling warmly. "But truly, your guidance and support have made all the difference in my career. I can't imagine where I'd be without you."

"Probably still driving go-karts," you teased, eliciting another laugh from Lando. Despite your jest, you appreciated the sentiment behind his words. Your bond was special, and it wasn't something either of you took for granted.

"Hey, don't knock go-karts," Lando retorted, feigning offense. "They're where it all began, after all."

"True," you conceded, your smile softening. "But we both know you were destined for much greater things, Lando. And I'm proud to have been a part of your journey."

"Thank you, y/n," Lando said, his voice warm and sincere. "Here's to many more victories together."

"Cheers to that," you replied, clinking your glass against his.

As the night progressed and the party continued, Lando found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Every time you laughed, his heart skipped a beat. Every time you touched him, he felt a jolt of electricity course through his veins.

The music pulsed through the air, a rhythmic heartbeat that fueled the euphoria rippling through the crowd. McLaren team members and fellow racers moved with infectious energy, their laughter and conversation melding into an intoxicating symphony. Amidst it all, Lando and you swayed in unison to the beat, your eyes locked and smiles mirroring each other's elation.

"Hey, champ," called out a familiar voice, momentarily tearing Lando's gaze away from you. It was Carlos Sainz, a fellow racer and close friend, passing by with a wide grin. "Fantastic race today! You really showed them who's boss."

"Thanks, Carlos," Lando replied, his chest swelling with pride. "Couldn't have done it without everyone's support."

"Especially mine, right?" you chimed in playfully, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Of course!" Carlos exclaimed, laughing. "You're the true mastermind behind this achievement!"

As Carlos continued on, Lando gave you a knowing look, warmth radiating between you. You both knew the truth in the jest – that you had been instrumental in bringing him to this point.

"Shall we dance?" Lando asked, extending his hand with a cheeky grin. You nodded, accepting the invitation as you danced like no one was watching. The room around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you amidst the swirl of colors and sounds.

You found yourselves gravitating towards each other, your bodies moving in perfect sync as you danced to the pulsing beat of the music. Lando couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as he watched you move. There was something about the way you moved – confident and sensual, yet somehow innocent at the same time – that made his heart race.

"I can't believe I'm dancing with you," he said, his voice low and intimate.

"Why not?" you replied, your smile teasing. "I'm just a lawyer, remember?"

He shook his head, his eyes darkening. "You're so much more than that, y/n. You're the reason I'm here, the reason I'm successful. You're the one who's always had my back, even when things were tough."

"And you're the reason I have a job," you teased, but there was a flicker of something more serious in your eyes. "You've made my work here worthwhile, Lando. You've given me purpose."

Lando's eyes searched yours, and he saw the truth in them. You weren't just colleagues or friends – there was something deeper between you both, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for years.

"Congratulations again, Lando," murmured a team member as he passed, patting him on the back and interrupting the moment between you. "You've made us all proud."

"Seriously, man, you were on fire today!" another added, clapping Lando's shoulder enthusiastically.

"Thank you, guys," Lando responded, his voice filled with gratitude. As he looked at you, he couldn't help but feel that part of it belonged to you as well.

"Can I just say," you began, your voice barely audible over the thumping music, leaning in and resting your arms on his shoulders "how incredibly proud I am of you?"

Lando's eyes flickered with a hint of surprise and pleasure, his heart racing as he gazed into your eyes. The dim lighting of the party accentuated the curve of your lips and the sparkle in your eyes, making him feel like he was gazing upon a work of art.

"Thank you, y/n," he said, his voice hoarse.

Your eyes met his, and in that moment, Lando knew that he had to have you. He didn't care about the risks or the consequences – he needed you more than anything.

The attraction between the two of you had always been undeniable, but up until now, Lando had resisted the urge to act on it. He had been so focused on his career and his goals that he had never allowed himself to explore the possibility of something more with you.

But as the night wore on and the champagne flowed freely, Lando found his resolve slipping. When he saw you dancing with one of the other drivers, a pang of jealousy burned in his chest. He wanted to be the one holding you close, he wanted to be the one making you laugh, he wanted to be the one kissing you senseless.

Without thinking, he made his way towards you, his heart racing with anticipation. As soon as he was close enough, he slid his arm around your waist and pulled you near, swaying in time with the music.

"Come with me," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

Your eyes widened, but you didn't protest. You simply followed him as he led you away from the crowded dance floor and onto the terrace.

Once outside, Lando pulled you closer to him, letting his fingers caress your cheek as he looked into your eyes. His expression was a mixture of emotion - desire, longing and something more that neither of you could put into words.

"Remember when we first met?" Lando asked, his gaze fixed on you. "I was just some rookie driver signing a contract, and you were this intimidating lawyer."

You chuckled, recalling the memory fondly. "You've come a long way since then."

"And so have you," Lando replied, glancing over at you. "Your legal support has been invaluable, you know," Lando continued, his voice filled with gratitude. "All those contracts and negotiations... I couldn't do it without you."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for," you responded, a hint of pride in your tone. As a top-notch lawyer, you had played a significant role in helping Lando navigate the world of Formula One. From ironing out sponsorship deals to ensuring his rights were protected, you had been a force to be reckoned with.

"Sometimes I think about how different things would be if we hadn't crossed paths," Lando mused, his thoughts drifting. "I'm grateful every day that I have you by my side, both professionally and personally."

"Me too," you agreed, your gaze softening. You reached out, gently squeezing his hand in a show of solidarity. "We make a great team, Lando. But you didn't bring me out here to talk about contracts and negotiations," you said, your voice low and sultry as you leaned in closer to him. "What did you bring me out here for, Lando?"

Lando's breath hitched as he felt your hot breath against his neck. "No," he admitted. "I was... I just... I saw you dancing with George and I just couldn't stand there and watch any longer."

You grinned, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. You had known for a long time that Lando had harbored feelings for you, but you had never expected him to act on them so boldly. "Is that so?"

Lando nodded, his eyes darkening with desire as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. "I want you, y/n," he said, his voice low and intimate. "I've wanted you for a long time, but I've been too scared to say anything. But tonight... I just can't resist anymore."

Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel it in your chest. You had never seen Lando like this before. The way his eyes bore into yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, it was all so intense. And you wanted him too, more than anything.

Without another word, Lando cupped your face with his hands and lowered his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and gentle at first, but it quickly escalated. His tongue swept into your mouth, exploring every inch, and you moaned into the kiss.

The terrace was dimly lit, but it felt like you were the only two people in the world. Lando's hands roamed over your body, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss. You could feel him pressing against you, and you couldn't help but grind against him.

"Lando," you gasped when the kiss finally broke, your lips swollen from the heat of it.

"Come back to my room with me," he murmured against your lips as he nipped at them. "I want to show you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"Woah there, champ," you said, pulling back slightly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's take this slow."

"How slow?" Lando asked, his voice a bit impatient.

"I know you're used to fast things," you said, a coy smile playing on your lips, "and you must need to be fast on track, but you can't get me so fast."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Lando began, your words slapping him back to reality.

"I'm just teasing," you said, placing a finger on his lips to silence him. "I know you didn't. And I'm not ready for that either, yet. But I want you to know I feel the same way about us." you whispered, tiptoeing to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I just want to take this slow."

"I know, y/n," Lando replied, his voice deep and rumbly. "I want to take it slow too."

"Alright," you said finally. "Let's go back inside. We can head back to your room after everyone goes home..."

Lando's grin widened. "Are you sure you don't want to go now? It's pretty late."

"I'd love to," you said, titling your head and looking up at him through your eyelashes. "But I want to give everyone a chance to congratulate you first." You giggled, looping your arm around his. "Then we can go back to your place and... celebrate."

"I like the sound of that," Lando said, pulling you in close and placing a lingering kiss against your lips. "Come on," Lando said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the heart of the festivities.

You allowed yourself to be swept up in the excitement, unable to suppress the grin spreading across your face. As you weaved through the jubilant crowd, the warmth of Lando's hand in yours was like an anchor, keeping you grounded amidst the whirlwind of sensations.

"Oi! Norris!" a voice called out, cutting through the noise. "That was some race you had today! You've got to teach me your tricks!"

"Maybe next time, mate," Lando laughed, giving the fellow racer a friendly pat on the back before continuing on.

"Hey, y/n," another voice chimed in, one of your colleagues from the McLaren team. "You're doing a fantastic job with all the legal stuff. Keep it up!"

"Thanks," you replied, a blush creeping up her neck. "I'm just doing my part for the team."

As you reached the center of the celebration, Lando pulled you into a spontaneous twirl, eliciting a delighted giggle from you.

"Are you having fun?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Definitely!" you felt a warmth spreading through your chest. That moment, the joy of victory and the intoxicating atmosphere, was something you knew you'd cherish forever.

"Good," Lando said softly, his gaze never leaving her eyes. "You deserve it, y/n."

Finally, everyone said their goodbyes and the two of you were left alone in the open air. The night sky was alight with stars, and the city below twinkled in the distance. Without a word, the two of you made your way to Lando's hotel room. He opened the door and stepped inside, pulling you with him. As soon as he closed the door, his hands were around your waist and he pulled you into a tight embrace.

You both sank down onto his bed without breaking contact. Lando enveloped you in his arms as he kissed your neck and shoulders hungrily. You felt so safe in his embrace, as if nothing else mattered in that moment but him holding you close. The intensity of it all was overwhelming, but comforting at the same time.

"Can you believe it?" Lando asked, his breath hot on your skin. "All those years, all that work, and here we are."

You looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "It's been quite a journey, hasn't it?"

"Definitely," Lando agreed, his eyes reflecting the pride he felt.

The two of you entwined in each other's arms until the early morning hours, savoring every moment together. His kisses sent shivers down your spine and his hands explored every inch of your body hungrily. Every touch was tender but passionate, as if he wanted to show you how much he cared for you. He cuddled up against you, whispering sweet words of affection into your ear.

It was clear that Lando wanted more than just physical pleasure from this encounter, and you felt the same way about him. You both wanted something real and lasting--something that went beyond the heat of the moment.

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hughesyodaddy43 · 1 month

Text

Pizza solves everything ⎸ L.H

pairings: bf! Luke x fem!reader. Platonic!Ethan Edwards and Mark Estapa x reader Genre: fluff warnings: angst?,mentions of cheating, stressed reader, exam season synopsis: Lukes girlfriend gets worked up over finals. Ethan and Mark attempt to make her feel better. requested?: yes word count: 3.1k authors note: I am not from America so i don't know how exams and schooling work over there, i hope this still makes sense. i gave reader a nickname, 'missy' and will probably use that name for future Luke fics.

You groan as you type on your computer, sitting at your desk with mindless tv playing in the background. You currently live in a tiny apartment with your best friend, Ethan. It's a two bedroom and can only really house two people before feeling cramped. However it is right next to Umich and is far more convenient than living in the dorms.

You only started living with Ethan last year, after your previous roommate moved out and you needed someone to share utilities with. Seeming as though Luke was leaving for New Jersey and Ethan never left your house anyway - it seemed only logical that he started paying rent.

Having a boyfriend in the NHL is both a blessing and a curse, the blessing being the fact that your hot boyfriend is in the NHL and the curse being that everyone else thinks he is hot too.

You never were the jealous type, or at least not before you saw all the girls that crowded Luke when he went to parties. Something in you cringed when you saw how awkward he got when denying girls, it was common that you'd have to step in otherwise that man would have just stood there like a statue the entire encounter. It wasn't like he would ever cheat on you, you were confident that he wouldn't. However when your hair is fitted to a much darker shade then the girls he interacts with, it's hard to not think about him wanting a more ‘conventional’ Hockey Girlfriend.

Luke is always first to tell you he doesn't care about that stuff and you believe him, but when you haven't called him in days, sometimes weeks, it gets less easy to control the unsettling feelings.

Everytime you call with Luke, it's always cut short, whether it’s Ethan banging on your door at 11 o’clock for a ‘late night snack’ or Jack barging in to argue with Luke about something, you never get to talk about what you're really feeling.

Because of the distance and lack of communication, the relationship has been a bit strained, it's not like you could tell if luke felt the same since he's too busy sleeping or playing hockey to communicate that with you. You were so proud of Luke, no doubt about it, however something in you boiled when he only ever mentioned hockey during the ten minute phone calls.

Since the last phone call you had with him, you've only really exchanged small text messages every couple hours. It was upsetting that you couldn't talk to your boyfriend about everything going on but it was also a nice way to get away so you can finish up and focus on all the upcoming exams.

You had your next one tomorrow and really needed to knuckle down and get studying for it. You've managed to get what you needed done for tonight so you thought you'd call Luke for a final call before bed.

After wriggling comfortably against your pillows, you lean against your head board. bringing your phone up close to your ear, you press the dial on luke's contact listening closely to the ringing sound on the other end.

Ring

You breathe hitches as you hear Lukes voice on the other end, only this time it was his voicemail. You take one last deep breath before shutting your phone off and sinking into your pillows.

Your phone vibrates on your nightstand and you view a message from your best friend and biggest hater, Ethan.

House rat: the team got too much pizza, if you're still up I can bring you some?

House rat : Silence speaks volumes missy

Pissy missy : no. i'm just asleep

Pissy missy : You're disturbing my slumber

House rat: oh well pizza is good for your soul. Mark is coming too ;)

Pissy missy: Fuck.

You sigh and put your phone back down, wiping your eyes, you sit up against the headboard once again and pull your computer onto your lap, Resuming your place in your essay.

“MISSY COME HERE GIRL” Ethan calls out from the front door, walking towards your room in long strides. He bursts through the door with a box of pizza in his hand and makes his way to sit at the end of your bed, Mark slowly entering behind him. Mark moves to sit further on the bed, next to Ethan, pulling out a piece of pizza from the box.

“How are you?” Mark asks as he stuffs his face with the crust.

You sigh, reaching to rip a piece of pizza from the rest, bringing it up close to your lips

“Been okay, I guess” you take a bite, avoiding eye contact with the two boys in front of you “are you sure? You've seemed a bit distant'' Mark asks “im fine.” you say, taking another big bite of the saucy crust “are you sur-” “I'm fine so quit asking” you yell, adding an edge of venom to your words. Taking the boys by surprise “wow, someones a bit extra pissy tonight” Ethan adds.

That's when something in your throat tightens, you feel yourself bubbling over. You don't understand why, your whole nickname stems from the fact that you get pissy from time to time but it feels like that was the last straw.

Tears begin filling your eyes, vision goes blurry as you feel your cheeks burn up. Sniffles are heard as the boys go silent before you. Tears drip onto the final bite of your pizza.

“Im-sorry-i-just-so-stressed-and-upset-and-luke-hasnt-been-talking-to-me-and-i-miss-him-and-i-think-hes-gonna-breakup-with-me-and-im-just-so-sad-and-i-dont-mean-to-be-mean-but-im-just-so-angry” you hurry through muffled sobs as your eyes go red and your sinuses block up.

“Woah hey hey, Missy i didn't mean to make you upset.” Ethan says , leaning forward to meet your eyes

“Yeah, talk to us..but a bit slower please” Mark says softly, careful to not make you cry again.

You take a deep breath, lifting your head up to see the two young hockey boys worried faces, your lip quivers slightly as you breathe in and out, ready to spill out what has been hurting you.

“I don't know, I'm just so stressed with these exams and I think I'm gonna do fine but I'm just scared.” you start, trying to get one problem out at a time

“I know for a fact that you'll do fine in your exams and assignments” Ethan comforts “yeah! you're like the smartest person i know!”

“Thanks.. It's not just that tho” you say, sniffling a bit as tears continue down your face and onto your swollen lips, the taste of salt sinks into your mouth. The Hockey players stay silent, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Luke and I haven't really been talking and I think he wants to break up.”

The boys share a knowing glance but say nothing.

“And you know i've seen all the girls jack brings home, the pretty blonde girls i mean what if luke met one of them and they fell in love” you say, growing more and more hysterical as each thought processes through your head.

Logically you new Luke would never cheat but with your emotions running high you couldnt help but think that Luke had fucked the entire female poplutation of new jersey ranging from 18-25 by now.

“And all he every talks about when we do call is stupid fucking hockey” you rise your voice slightly before looking at the boys

“no offence” you add, placing your hands in your lap and finishing your pizza

“ he didn't even answer my call tonight” you finish, the last sentence being muffled as you swallow your food.

To your surprise the boys stay silent and stare at each other with Ethan looking down at his phone then back up at mark then sharing a look back to you.

“OMG SO HE IS GONNA BREAK UP WITH ME” you scream, tears streaming down your face harder

“WHAT NO NO NO” the boys choir, eyes wide.

“Then why are you looking at eachother like that? And who the fuck are you messaging at 12o’clock at night???” you yell pointing towards ethan.

“No-no one” ethan adds, throwing his phone away to the end of the bed.

Mark moves to sit next to you, throwing an awkward arm around you in a comforting embrace

“missy, he's probably not gonna break up with you'' Mark adds

“PROBABLY??” you cry

“NONO he means he is NOT going to break up with you” Ethan interjects, throwing a pointed look at Mark “oh yeah sorry that's what i meant” Mark stuttered

You groan loudly as your head flys back onto your pillows, you bury yourself into your blanket

“Okayyy so you're tired so we're gonna get outta here” Ethan says, dragging the pizza off your bed with Mark sliding off behind him.

“Good night, Missy'' Mark says, patting your head, peeking out slightly

“Good night!!” Ethan yells from the kitchen with a mouthful of pizza.

You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm, you look at your phone that reads ‘7 am’ and still you have no response from Luke. You sigh and remove yourself from your bed, making your way towards the shared bathroom you have with Ethan.

You walk down the hall and pass Mark who is sleeping soundly on the couch, you continue walking and stop by Ethan's room, you peer in to see him sprawled out on his bed, keeping note that you should keep quiet as you get ready so you don't wake the two up prematurely.

You take time in your shower to clear your mind, enjoying the warm hug as the water runs down your back and soothes your sore neck. You recite in your head that everything will be okay and to just focus on your exam first, then worry about whatever bullshit Luke is pulling.you finish your shower and get dressed in warm attire. You pair your favourite long sleeve shirt with your fav baggy sweats and continue on with your hair and makeup. Finishing up, you leave the bathroom and are met with the inviting smell of fresh breakfast.

Walking down the hallway you are met with Mark and Ethan who have both woken up and are now stuffing their faces with every breakfast food you own.

“Good morning” you say, giggling slightly

“Morning” Mark says, eyes still drawn to the tv

“Heyy, do you want a bagel?” Ethan asks, walking over towards you “you're gonna need some brain food” he adds

“Maybe not, i'm too nervous to eat right now” you say

“Hmm, are you sure? What about I make you one for later?” he asks

“Maybe next time” you say as you turn on your heels back to your room, rummaging through your cupboard you find a comfy hoodie to throw over your body to keep you warm and toasty throughout your exam. You pack up your bag and walk back out into the kitchen. You return back to your room, retrieving your charging phone.

“Missy, do you need a ride?” Ethan asks

“Nah, the walk will be nice for me, good way to clear my head” you add, walking back out of your room.

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulders

“Thank you by the way, for last night” you add looking back towards Ethan and Mark

“No problemo, i'm sure you'll feel better soon” Mark says, turning his head to give you a cheeky wink

You giggle a bit as You look back at ethan confusion still evident in your face

“Don't listen to him, he's weird” Ethan adds as he walks towards you to give you a pat on the back “you'll do great”

“Thank you” you say as you move out the door and towards school.

The timer blares through the room as everyone stands , making their way towards the teachers desk to send off their papers. You sit there for a minute, staring down at your paper, revising everything you wrote down. The girl beside you nudges you out of your trance as she waits for you to stand up and hand you paper i with her. All you can do is quietly walk your way down the daring stares that lead to the front of the class. You hand in your work with a deep breath and make your way back to your previous seat, ready to go home and eat your feelings.

“How do you think you went?” the girl beside you asks as you both walk out of the room,

“Um i think i did okay, passable i hope” you responde

“I'm sure you did great, you wrote a lot more than i did”

“Hmm how do you think you went?” you ask

“Good.. i hope”

“You did good, i know it”

“Thanks, missy. I was gonna ask before but how's everything going with Luke? Are you gonna see him soon?” she asks

“Maybe, idk. We haven't been talking too much recently”

“Aww thats a shame well i hope all goes well”

“Yeah, thanks”

“Bye missy” she exits the conversation, making her way over to her next class

“Bye” you add, thankful that this was the only class you had scheduled for the day.

The walk home was calming , the cold breeze blowing on your face created a refreshing cooling to your hot body as you walked through the campus, passing a couple friends and saying hi briefly before separating.

You make your way to your apartment, trudging up the stairs in a final burst of energy. Unlocking the door you walk into your heated apartment, looking down as you remove your bag, take off your hoodie and hang your keys up, not making note of the tall figure sitting on the bar stools next to your kitchen.

You turn around and are met with Luke - your boyfriend. The man who you love. The man who's been ignoring you.

“Hey baby” he says, standing up to walk towards you

You take a step back, anger and confusion plastered on your face

“Well at least you have the courtesy to do it in person” you say, crossing your arms over your body, sliding your sleeves over your knuckles.

Luke looms over at you, he stares in confusion, trying to read your emotions.

“What are you talking about?”

Your gaze leaves the floor and meets his, anger bubbling inside your stomach

“You wanna break up?” you say bluntly, mono toned and unnatural

“What?? No ??Why would you think that?” Luke argues, voice becoming higher and his breath itching slightly at the information that his girlfriend thinks he drove 9 and a half hours just to break up with her.

“Are you serious? No call? no text? no nothing, not even a stupid instagram reel and you think my mind wouldn’t wander to that?” you say, stepping forward at each word, announcing your words with a spit of fury.

“I did call and I did text” Luke defends, hands slapping against his sides.

“Barely, Luke we only called for ten minutes a week and all you talked about was stupid hockey and I love hockey but that's all you would talk about. And not to mention the dry messages I mean we barely even talked like normal people, just robots with no love for each other.” you rant on, eyes feeling heavy as tears glistened in your sockets, afraid to let them fall you do your best to blink them away before luke notices.

“Missy” Luke whispers, snaking his hands to your forearms

“I was only trying to give you space, I knew you would get stressed with your upcoming finals so I wanted to give you as much time as you needed to study. I didn't mean to be dry and unloving towards you” his voice was soothing and calm, his fingers brushing lightly on your clothed arms.

“Well it was a dumb decision” you argue, earning a snicker from luke

“yeah , it was and I'm sorry.” he agrees

“So why are you here then? If you aren't gonna break up with me?”

“I was planning to come down after your finals were finished, I was originally driving in tomorrow but Ethan messaged me last night telling me to come early”

“Oh. so that's why they were acting weird” you say, reciting the events of last night in your head.

“Yeah, Do you know why he said that?”

“Well i was a bit emotional last night, i was crying while stuffing my face with pizza” you laugh looking back up at luke.

“Oh my, so is that why Ethan sent me 43 messages at midnight?” Luke adds, smiling to himself before pulling up his phone to show you the absurdly concerning amount of texts from the boy.

“I'll take it that Ethan and Mark were not very good at comforting you?” he says, sitting back down on the bar stool and pulling you to stand in between his legs

“They weren't too bad , maybe not the best tho” you say, giggling slightly at the situation

Silence fills the room for a bit before luke speaks up

“I'm sorry I caused you so much stress, I love you and I wouldn't trade you for the world. Maybe I should try and talk to you more and not just about hockey, hm?” he speaks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear

“Yes please” you smile before leaning in to give him a deep kiss. You both pull away before going back in for a warm and comforting hug, swaying slightly.

“I don't know about you but i'm starving, do you wanna go get some food?” Luke asks, speaking into the crook of your neck

“mhm, exams make me hungry and that breakfast bar Ethan snuck into my bag wasn't very filling” you add, moving so you can look at Luke once more, placing a delicate kiss on his lips

“About Ethan, should I talk to him about how pizza doesn't solve every problem?”

You giggle at his comment, staring softly into his muddy blue eyes before being interrupted by Ethan opening his door

“PIZZA SOLVES EVERYTHING” he shouts just before slamming his bedroom door closed.

“He's been home this whole time?” I ask Luke

“Who do you think let me in?” Luke chimes, smirking down at you.

wriggling out of his arms its not long till you're pulled back by a gentle hand on your wrist

“Wait, I gotta ask how your exam went” Luke asks, hands sneaking around my waist and resting on my lower back.

“It went okay, i didn't give up so that's good” i say, shrugging.

“Mhm good, never give up” he says, finishing his comment by patting my head.

Silence is left between us once again, eyes frowning as he tries to read my expression

“I missed you, Lukey. Don't pull that shit again”

“I missed you too, and judging by how angry you were when you came home i definitely won't” he says as we both make our way out the door and down the stairs.

#nhl hockey #nhl imagine #ethan edwards #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagine #mark estapa #Lh43

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lovelytsunoda · 1 year

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one of the boys // charles leclerc

summary: she's worked for ferrari for four years now. four years that only let her feelings for their number one driver grow stronger and stronger, until she wishes that charles leclerc would stop seeing her as just one of the boys, and start seeing her the way that she sees him

pairing: charles leclerc x mechanic! reader

warnings: ferrari fuckups, sexual tension, sad charles, actually charles goes through a whole range of emotions, matchmaker seb, mentions of workplace harassment, set in the 2022 season when charles won australia, sexual innuendos and references.

she sat on the halo, her feet resting against the seat as she leaned over the engine compartment, her boiler suit tied off around her waist and her hair pinned to the back of her head as the bahrain sun beat down.

ferrari had bottled it again. which meant double-duty for the pit crew to fix it for jeddah.

the radio hummed softly in the background as she cursed, losing her grip on the ratchet. when the engine fried itself, it had also made the parts a lot harder to take apart.

"fucking hell." she groaned, resting her head against the cool, red body of the car. "vasseur was supposed to fix this."

"what are you still doing here? you should have left at least an hour ago?"

the movement in the garage, as well as the voice breaking the almost-silence was enough to get her to look up, heart hammering against her ribcage.

the same annoyingly alert reaction that she'd had to his presence for the last two years.

"charles. what are you doing here?"

"hiding." the driver smiled sadly. the balaclava lines had faded fomr his face, but she could still see the sweat in his hair, the scent of the race mingling with his team-sponsored cologne. "you know how it is after a weekend like this."

"yeah, i do." she could feel the blush creeping onto her face, and she subtly pinched herself to try and make it go down. charles leclerc couldn't give her butterflies, it wasn't right. technically speaking, he was her superior.

but that didn't change how much she cared about him, how much she longed to feel the monegasque's lips against hers

"you should not be working. come out with the rest of us, we're getting drinks and commiserating. did i use that word right?"

it was hard for y/n not to smile at charles' attempt to learn the english language. he had a fantastic grip on the language, but when he tried to use larger words to sound cooler, it was usually followed up with uncertainty, all adding to what she liked to call his 'boston terrier energy'.

"yeah, you got that one right." she chuckled, dismounting the car, pain rocketing through the nerves in her feet as she hit the ground too hard. "that's a beauty of a car. such a shame that the scuderia doesn't know how to treat it properly."

standing next to charles, she was all too aware that she was wearing nothing but a sports bra on the top half of her body, and she wondered if she could pull her boiler suit back on without charles noticing.

charles snorted. "try driving that thing."

she patted him on the shoulder, a sad smile on her face. "give me ten minutes to go put some proper clothes on, and then we'll go out somewhere. drinks are on me, god knows you deserve it."

______

"seb, i don't know what to do!" y/n groaned, face against the tabeltop as the german man laughed.

sebastian vettel had been the closest thing she had to a father when she was on the road with the scuderia. in all fairness, the job with ferrari hadn't even been what she went to school for. she had picked engineering at college because it was what everybody else was doing, and she'd stumbled upon this job by accident with the promise of travel. when she was starting to regret everything, it had been sebastian who had convinced her to stay.

"ugh, this is so not funny!" she shouted, throwing her arms in the air and wincing as her knuckle banged against the shop window. they were in a quaint little café in fiji ahead of the australian grand prix, and y/n was in need of some serious advice.

but to get advice from seb, you needed to bribe him with coffee first. hence why they were in the rustic cafe, every bare surface covered in plants that sebastian had spent ages talking to the manager about.

sebastian vettel was a nerd. in a good way, of course.

"you're a lovely young woman, y/n. you have a nice figure."

"does hanna know you're out here complimenting younger women?" she joked, taking a sip from her strawberry lemonade.

sebastian laughed, shaking his head. "you need to let everybody else see that side of you, y/n. let your hair down, wear a nice pair of jeans for once instead of that boiler suit. let the world see the lovely girl that we all know is there."

"i'm going to miss you when you retire."

"i know, kiddo. listen, we're all going out after the race, to have drinks and whatever. go out with hanna, buy yourself a nice new dress on my credit card, and then come out for drinks with us. i guarantee that one look at you will whip charles into shape. you're a catch, y/n. i think that charles would be lucky to have someone like you in his life."

"i'm already a part of his life. as a work friend. and i'm accepted that i'm not likely to be anything more."

seb raised an eybrow. "doesn't sound like it."

in another bar, on another part of the small island of fiji, carlos and charles were having a very similar conversation.

"carlos, i can't make a move! technically, i'm higher ranking at ferrari than she is. there's a power imbalance, what if she feels like she can't say no? it's a harassment case waiting to happen!" charles whined, a pint glass clutched in his hands.

carlos shook his head, an annoyed sigh escaping the back of his throat. "you're an idiot, hermano. she's in love with you! you think you're the only person who sees her staring at you in the garage?

"forgive me if that's not something i want to be wrong about. i could be staking our careers on your little hunch."

groaning, carlos buried his head in his hands. getting through to his teammate was a hopeless and futile affair. once charles leclerc was set in his ways about something, there was no changing his mind.

"what about the party in australia? ask her to dance, buy her a drink? you're not getting any younger, charles. you need to get back out there and start dating again."

______

as f1 descended on albert park, the glitz and glamour taking over melbourne, y/n y/l/n and hanna vettel were standing in a small, glitzy boutique, armed with hanna's husband's credit card. the young ferrari mechanic was standing in front of a floor-length mirror, her hair falling around her shoulders.

"hanna, i don't know how i feel about this." she inhaled, staring at her reflection and the ferrari red dress that hugged her figure. "i love it, honestly, i do, i just cringe at the thought of ever wearing it outside of the house. especially if i;m in front of charles!"

hanns sighed, brushing her fingers through the younger girl's hair. "have a little bit of faith in yourself, darling. you look stunning, this dress shows off all your best physical attributes, and charles already knows your best qualities."

"yeah, because who else is going to sing nineties stoner rock songs in the car on the way to the track with me?" y/n laughed, remembering singing ‘teenage dirtbag’ with charles on their way to the track in jeddah, a carpool with some of the other mechanics. charles barely knew the words, but then again, y/n got them wrong a lot as well. “yeah, okay. lets do this fucking thing.”

hanna grinned. “that’s our girl!”

hours later, she was regretting her decision, standing in front of the club in her baggy leather jacket, shaky knees knocking together as she stood outside the front door in her heels and that tiny little dress, voices and laughter wafting through the walls as the inside hummed with the rarity of a ferrari victory. she nervously tapped her fingers against the side of her purse as a group of haas mechanics crossed the parking lot, wolf whistling at her before she flipped them both the bird.

“are you coming inside, or are you just going to stand there and freeze your balls off?”

“oh, if only I had balls to freeze. and this is bloody australia, its not even that cold.” y/n chuckled to herself, turning to look at jessica hawkins, one of the aston martin young drivers. “I need someone to remind me that I dont look stupid in this goddamn dress that hanna vettel picked out for me.”

jessica cocked an eyebrow, looking the mechanic up and down. “babes, you look hot! who are you trying to impress?”

“charles.” y/n mumbled, her face flushing pink before she cleared her throat. “its stupid, isn’t it?”

the other young woman shook her head. “not at all.” she grinned, linking her arm through y/n’s. “come on, lets go get you your man!”

the inside of the club was crowded, yet closed to the public as f1, f2, and the w series descended on the establishment. all of the f3 drivers were too young to legally drink, and had made their displeasure quite clear as they were herded away to an italian restaurant instead of the club.

"drinks for the lovely ladies?" abbie eaton chortled, bringing tequila shots over to where the mechanic and jessica were standing. "cheers on three, yeah?"

jessica sounded off with the countdown, the three women tapping the tiny glasses against each other before throwing back the burning alcoholic drink.

"if i'm going to do this," y/n began, raising her voice to be heard over the drake song that was playing. "i'm doing it right!" she took off her jacket, throwing it over a chair before she made her way over to the dj booth, her ballet flats sticking to the floor.

after a whispered conversation (and a monetary bribe), wheatus' 2000 hit 'teenage dirtbag' began to play over the speakers as y/n and jessica took to the floor, champagne flutes in hand as they began to dance.

from across the way, under the deep blue lights, charles leclerc was in a trance as he watched the way she moved, laughing and giggling as she sang along, finally getting each word right. adn charles would be lying if he said he didn't love the way her legs looked in that short little dress, how full her breasts looked in the red fabric that cradled them.

"is he still being a pussy?" pierre gasly groaned. "come on, man! you won the fucking race, and that's still not giving you the confidence you need to tell her you have a crush on her?"

"i'd rather not embarrass myself too much, thank you pierre." charles grumbled, taking another sip of his fruity mixed drink.

"he won't even drink proper alcohol." carlos commented. "i think she broke him."

pierre shook his head. "i will not stand for this, i am not letting it go on any longer. ilies!" he shouted, waving over his best friend- save for charles of course- and social media manager. "we need you to do something for us, for charles."

ilies nadri nodded. "it's about that girl he keeps talking about, isn't it?"

"exactly. so here's what you're going to do."

back on the dancefloor, y/n was beginning to forget that charles was watching, laughing and singing with jessica as the dj began to play 'toxic' by britney spears, at a drunken lando norris' request.

"looks like you've got an admirier. and it's not charles." nerea marti pointed out, nudging her head in the direction of ilies nadri, who was beginning to make his way over to the girls.

"well, if charles isn't interested." jessica shrugged, calpping her on the shoulders. "you look too pretty tonight to go home alone if you don't want to, and it looks like there's a good looking bloke who wants to join ya."

moments blurred as nadri took y/n's hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and making her laugh with a french come-on, and before she knew it they were dancing to britney.

and she had forgotten about him, about the reason she wore that red dress in the first place.

but charles never forgot about her, his eyes boring into the back of ilies' head as he watched them dancing to a christina aguilera song. his grip was steadily tightening on his glass, and carlos looked over at him with a concerned glance.

"are you sure that getting her to dance with ilies was the smartest idea?" carlos whispered under his breath, raising his eyebrow at pierre. "he's going to break the fucking glass."

"or, he'll get jealous and go over there." pierre reasoned.

"how the fuck do you have a girlfriend, gasly?"

but pierre's reasoning must have been rooted in proof, for charles put down his glass and tromped over to the dance floor, his eyes a certain shade of jealous as he prepared himself to finally make a move.

he didn't speak, sweeping over the dancefloor to grab y/n's arm and pull her away from ilies and away from the dancefloor and it's illuminated vinyl flooring.

"charles, what is wrong with you?" y/n shouted, tispy on her feet and buzzing from alcohol as she tried to ignore the way her chest tightened and her heart skipped a beat at charles' possessiveness.

"i'm in love with you." he blurted out, desperation in his voice. "and i'm tired of hiding how i feel. i don't care how it looks to the outside, or to mattia, but i want to be with you. you were never just one of the boys to me, y/n. you were just you. and i like who i am with you. i want to be able to be that person for you, all the time."

"charles." she said softly, heart softening before starting and stopping again in an erratic beating pattern that would have worried her if she could have heard the beating over the refrain of charles' confessions playing on loop in her mind, louder and louder each time. "just kiss me."

and that's what charles did, an *nsync song playing in the background as he mashed his lips to hers, backing her up against the wall as she giggled, wrapping a slender, bare leg around his own, arms looped haphazardly around his neck and over his shoulders.

"charles, your phone isn't in your front pocket, right?" she panted.

charles looked confused, resting his forehead against hers. "no, i always put it in my back pocket."

"fuck." y/n all but moaned, arousal pooling in her own thighs as she thought about what was in between charles'. "that means that it's your rock-hard cock that's pressing against me right now, and that's so fucking hot."

grinning to himself, charles pressed up against her even more. "whay don't you join me at my hotel, and i'll show you just how fucking hard you make me."

"is that a threat or an invitation?"

"it's whatever you want it to be, mon cher."

"kiss me one more time, and you've got a deal."

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #lovelytsunodas katy perry series #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #Spotify

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augustinewrites · 8 months

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+ series summary: as marius von hagen’s assistant, it’s your job to accompany him to certain public functions. you’re used to being in the background, but this time? the event is an engagement party, and he doesn’t need an assistant. he needs a date.

as soon as the elevator opens to the penthouse floor, you pull the key card out of your purse and march straight to the door on your right.

six months ago you would have hesitated. six months ago you would have knocked politely, with a cup of coffee, a muffin, and a kind smile.

now, you slap the key against the scanner aggressively. as soon as it turns green, you push down the handle and lean heavily on the door to let yourself in.

you scrunch your nose as you step over a pair of sloppily discarded high heels, slipping your own off and pushing both pairs aside with a stocking-clad foot. then you venture into your boss’ apartment, deciding to deal with the blonde scrolling through her phone on the couch first.

“you need to leave,” you tell her dispassionately, picking up what you assume is her clutch and tossing it into her lap. “this isn’t a bed and breakfast. mr. von hagen has business to attend to.”

you wait impatiently as she looks you up and down, taking in your office ensemble along with the identification card hanging from your lanyard.

relenting, she lets you herd her out the door without protest, but not before handing off all her contact information in case your boss ‘wants to have fun again.’

you take the little slip of paper (noting the lipstick kiss in the corner), then slam the door in her face.

monday mornings are always the same.

after kicking out sunday’s trash, you grab some aspirin and a glass of water, heading for the master bedroom.

predictably, marius is still passed out. you find him practically spread-eagled in the bed, with only a thin top sheet protecting his modesty.

you’ve learned the hard way that marius sleeps nude, but seeing his toned chest and abdomen, along with the neatly trimmed trail of hair leading below the sheet never fails to make you catch your breath…

you squeeze your eyes shut, telling yourself to snap out of it. he’s your boss, the man who signs your paychecks and is the cause of some of your biggest headaches to date.

“sir,” you whisper harshly from the doorway, reluctant to move closer. when you don’t get a response, you call out to him again, this time at a normal volume. much to your chagrin, his cute sleeping face - mouth slightly parted, brows scrunched - remains unchanged.

huffing, you step around last night’s clothes and empty liquor bottles to rip the curtains open, letting the morning sunshine stream into the room. this action makes marius stir, groaning tiredly as he lays a hand over his eyes.

“sir,” you say again, with more force this time. “you have a consult with the legal team in a half hour.”

“the legal team…” he mutters, still refusing to pry his eyes open.

he continues to grumble uselessly into his pillowcase, clearly intending to make your job as difficult as possible.

…until you check your watch and decide that you can’t waste anymore time coddling him, so you take the half filled glass of water and dump it over his head.

he jerks up with a sputter, glaring at you as he swipes the ice water out of his face.

“there are nicer ways to wake a guy up, you know,” he huffs, shaking the water out of his hair.

you set the glass down, sighing. “if you want to be babied, sir, you should call vincent.”

he mumbles something you’re sure is rude under his breath, pushing wet bangs out of his face before asking, “where’s maia?”

“first of all her name is–” you check the note you’d scrunched in your pocket. “–mia and she left her cell number, home number, and the number of the strip club she works at.” you hold it out to him, humming. “very classy, sir.”

he doesn’t even look at it, so you crumple it back up and stuff it into your pocket.

“yikes. i don’t know why she bothered. i already gave her the speech.” he shrugs, clearing his throat as he recites, “‘last night was incredible. you’re a great girl, but right now in my career–’”

“‘i just can’t give you the relationship you want or deserve,’” you finish, having heard him recycle the practiced line to multiple other hookups in the last three months.

“hey, you memorized it!” he exclaims, lifting his hand for a high five. he lowers it when he sees your unimpressed look. “wrong crowd, i see that now.”

rolling your eyes, you turn around and open the door to his closet, grabbing a set of clothes that costs more than your rent and laying them over your arm as you call over your shoulder, “when i took this job, i didn’t expect to deal with the pussy parade. be honest, are you in some kind of competitive sex tournament?”

“i’m young and single!” he reasons, catching the boxers you throw at his head and quickly slipping them on. “i’m allowed to sow a few oats.”

everyone in the office knows that it’s really about the lawyer from themis getting engaged.

you’ve seen the way marius used to look at her, seen the plain adoration that used to shine in his gaze. it’s why ever since news of her engagement, you go through this every monday— when she comes in to help him navigate the confusing reports and updates of confusing legalese.

his behaviour these past few weeks was a coping mechanism. an unhealthy one, obviously, but who were you to tell that to the president of a multi-billion dollar company?

“whatever you say, sir,” you shrug, shoving the pants and button down into his arms. “get changed. i’ll call vincent and have him let everyone know we’re on our way.”

you step out of the bedroom to let him get dressed, deciding to make yourself busy by starting the coffee maker. as the scent of freshly ground beans fills the penthouse, you take a moment to pull out your phone and double-check your boss’ calendar.

after the meeting with legal, his schedule is relatively clear. only a handful of things you need him to review, along with a spot of press. it’s a relatively easy monday, by all means.

it’s then that berry decides to make an appearance, the adorable russian blue leaping up onto the counter and meowing insistently to get your attention. smiling, you reach out to scratch lightly under his chin.

“what are we going to do with him, huh?” you whisper, scooping him up into your arms. content purrs rumble against your palm as you stroke his fur.

“traitor,” marius scoffs, entering the kitchen. you glance over your shoulder to see him looking somewhat put together. not only is his shirt still untucked, but his hair is still messy and wet and you’re positive he’s still sweating tequila.

he ignores the fresh coffee in favour of grabbing a carton of orange juice from the fridge. he unscrews the cap, flicking it onto the counter so he can take a swig.

“unbelievable,” you mutter under your breath. marius glances over at you, wiping the corner of his mouth with sleeve before holding the carton out to you.

“what? you want some?”

you push it away with a fingertip. “no, thank you.”

he shrugs, screwing the cap back on and shoving it back into the fridge. you and berry watch with equally unimpressed looks as he rummages through the oversized pantry, resurfacing with a box of cereal.

you turn to open a nearby cabinet, grabbing a bowl.

but in those few seconds, he’d already ripped the box open and was scooping cereal out with his hands, pouring handfuls into his mouth.

this is it, you think as he gets crumbs all over his nice shirt. this is what marius von hagen looks like when he hits rock bottom.

_____

you barely make it to the meeting on time.

the whole team is already seated, ready to begin. marius - with the mcdonald’s iced coffee that’d almost made the two of you late in hand - takes a seat at the head of the conference table.

your boss is surprisingly alert despite the fact that his brain is currently steeped in alcohol. he takes notes, asks appropriate questions, makes thoughtful suggestions. it’s one of the things you respect about him. he is a professional first and foremost.

“it seems that’s all for today,” he says once the last subject has been covered. “if there are any other questions, please keep them to yourselves.”

with that, he makes his grand exit.

well…he was a professional most of the time.

you're quick to jump in when the room fills with dissatisfied murmurs. “if you have any questions, please direct them to vincent or myself so we may raise them with mr. von hagen at a later time."

with that, everyone carries on with their day. you head back to your desk with an armload of paperwork for marius to look over and sign. you read the first few pages as you walk, already working out a summary in your head.

you make it to your desk just in time to see rosa following marius into his office.

chatting in his office after a meeting is a fairly common occurance. rosa comes by to help review whatever contracts his staff of corporate lawyers had drawn up, or walk him through any topics confused about.

your phone buzzes with a message from marius.

[marius]: come get me in five to say that we’ll be late for lunch.

what isn’t common is for him to do that.

but you do as he says, knocking politely when the five minutes are up.

“come in!”

“sir,” you begin after sending rosa a small wave. “we’ll be late for lunch if we don’t leave now.”

“lunch?” the young lawyer echoes, sounding confused. “it’s hardly 10am.”

marius clicks his tongue, closing the folder on his desk. “well, you know what they say. early worm gets the worm.”

“that’s not at all correct—”

he’s already nudging you out the door, a respectful hand resting on the small of your back as he guides you away from his office. “see you later, miss!”

“what are you doing?” you ask, feeling your face heat up as you become the object of your coworker’s confused stares. “i have work to do—”

marius pulls you into an empty conference room, closing the door behind you.

“rosa invited me to her engagement party this weekend,” he says, tone clipped.

you’re not quite sure where he’s going with this. “shall i pick out a gift?”

“no, i’ll take care of that,” he tells you. then, with a growing smile that almost always means he’s up to something, he asks, “what are you doing this saturday?”

“i—”

“trick question. i’d like you to accompany me as my date.”

#marius von hagen x reader #tot x reader #tears of themis x reader #marius x reader #i know i said i’d do reo for this au but that’s coming next #i had to get this out of my system

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wttcsms · 9 months

Text

time, mystical time (cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine) ; simon "ghost" riley.

pairing simon "ghost" riley x f!reader word count 3.3k synopsis snapshots of the defining moments in ghost's life. content contains slight angst, mild descriptions of alcohol abuse (ghost's father) + domestic abuse (non-explicit desc., but the act itself is mentioned various times), a bit of tiny look into my take on ghost's background, nsfw content, slight size kink, breeding kink, creampie, domestic fluff, pregnant!reader in some scenes, children (dad!ghost) author's notes takes place in this au & honestly is a lot more enjoyable of a read if you read that fic (+ the other connected one shots [go on my masterlist]). fun fact: simon is referred to as simon in the scenes with only you and his family. he's ghost anywhere else.

His mother had always told him that as a baby, he was always rather quiet. Scared her half to death, she would say, ‘cause he’d rarely ever cry. Even the doctor got worried when he first came out.

Looking back at his childhood — perhaps the lack thereof — Simon assumes it’s probably instinctual. With a deadbeat drunk of a father armed with a heavy hand, being quiet probably saved Simon’s life more times than he wants to admit. He’d be knocked upside the head for the littlest of reasons, shouted at for even less.

I’m the man of the house.

His father’s slurred justifications for doling out unfair punishments ring through the dark halls of his childhood home. Simon hears it while he cowers inside his closet. His room is dark because his father doesn’t believe in nightlights, and mum got slapped hard for daring to go against his wishes and trying to sneak Simon one. She thinks he didn’t see it, but Simon sees a lot more than he should. Since then, he’s been sleeping in the dark. It’s not so scary anymore.

There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway.

It’s stuffy in the closet, and he knows it’s stupid to hide here because dad will find him any second now. The punishment is bad when he gets to drinking, and it gets worse whenever Simon tries to hide.

A loud thump against his door makes Simon hold his breath. Then, the door bangs open from the weight.

Kicking doors open comes second nature to Lieutenant Riley.

The loud crash of the door popping from the rusty hinges shocks the poor girls previously trapped behind them. All of them stay huddled together, staring fearfully at the loud, big men toting even louder, bigger guns. The hollowed cheeks, hopeless eyes, and array of bruises on their skin makes him sick. It’s a hot summer’s day, and Simon hates that after all this time, his observation from his childhood still stands true:

There are scarier things that lurk in the light, anyway.

A bit hypocritical, he supposes. After all, he walks around in broad daylight, and he’s certainly no saint.

With the help of the rest of his extraction team, Ghost makes quick work of herding all the girls out of this depressing underground prison and out into a free world. He’s careful to be gentle with his touches, nothing more than a gentle guiding hand. Even with his gloves, he can’t be certain he’s not tainting them. Sins don’t wash away as easily as blood does.

He’s the last one to leave, but he doesn’t exit alone.

For a while, he felt a tight grip on his arm. Someone’s been clinging onto him this whole time, and with everything that’s happened, he can’t find it in his heart to shake them off. With no other distractions present, he finally turns to see who’s gotten so attached to him.

This is it.

This is the moment where Simon Riley claims his life begins.

It’s such a juvenile feeling, he thinks. Waiting for his phone to ring, wondering why you haven’t texted or called. It’s so silly. So what he saved your life? It’s not like you owe him anything. It’s his job. He had a duty. Nothing more, nothing less.

Besides, he’s an asshole. Not the type of asshole who thinks he’s entitled to your company since he rescued you, but the type where Soap and the rest of the team aren’t too surprised he doesn’t have anyone to come home to.

He can’t sleep.

It’s been weeks since he gave you that burner phone. Surely you would have called, even sent a simple “hello”, if you really wanted to. He knows there’s not much to do in that facility. He knows that you haven’t been sleeping well. He knows that he should go to sleep; he’s got an early flight to catch in an active warzone, and there’s no way in hell he’s gonna get any semblance of rest as a result.

Instead of sleeping, he’s grabbing his own burner phone off the nightstand and staring at the screen. It’s a simple enough task, really. He can just head straight to his contacts list and click the only one that’s there. Isn’t it traditional for the guy to call first, anyway? Or is he just fooling himself into thinking that you’re waiting for him to make the first move? Do you want him to make the first move?

He’s never experienced this before. This newfound, boyish anxiety. The equal mixture of both hopelessness and hope churning in his stomach every time he sees you; do you think of him as much as he thinks of you? The question is then followed by a decisive no. He hasn’t survived this long because of blind optimism, so there’s no point in indulging in it now.

Will you come back then?

You looked up at him while asking this question, and you looked like an angel unfairly punished to walk alongside man. He wanted to spend the rest of his life constructing a stairway to heaven that you could use to make it back to your rightful home. When you look that beautiful and then proceed to ask him a question, what else was he supposed to say besides,

Whenever you want me to.

Perhaps God truly is as merciful as he is all-seeing, because after a minute of contemplation and staring longingly at your contact, his phone screen lights up with the notification he’s prayed for (the only thing he’s ever prayed for, really).

You’re calling him.

And true to his word, he’s on his way.

He’s never said I love you before, and as a result, he’s too scared to make his first attempt to do so, even though you just told him those three words yourself.

(He might tower over you, but looks can be deceiving. Simon thinks you’re much stronger and braver than him, in all the ways that matter.)

I love you.

He resists the urge to beg you to say it again and again and again, on repeat for the rest of your lives.

He doesn’t say it back immediately, but he does let you take off his mask for the first time.

He doesn’t realize that the wide-eyed, awestruck, soft gleam in your eyes as you take him in, fully, for the first time is the same starry-eyed look he gets whenever he looks at you. He has a feeling you’re well aware of it, but now he finds the courage to confirm it.

“I love you.”

And with a smile that could bring him back to life, all you have to say is, “I know.”

His mask is in your hands, after all.

“You never quite outgrow it, do ya?” Tommy’s got his hands in his pockets, but Simon can still picture the wedding band on his younger brother’s finger. He had been happy when Tommy tied the knot with Beth, if not a bit jealous.

Now, though, Simon’s got his own wedding band. It’s tucked underneath his uniform, hanging from the same chain his dog tags are. It rests against his chest, in a spot closest to his heart, right where it — you — belong.

Dad’s dead. Tommy says mum cried, but he couldn’t understand why. After all, she’s the one who faced his wrath for the longest. She’s been on the receiving end of all his harshness. She’s the one who’s taken the most hits, the hardest hits. Simon nods in agreement but doesn’t tell his brother that he thinks he might know why.

Simon knows his mother is a good woman. A long time ago, his father wasn’t the man he knew growing up. He doesn’t know when the change in his personality happened, and Simon somehow feels like it’s his fault. He was the catalyst, the trigger. While she was pregnant with him, that’s when the violence and the drinking and the anger started. He knows mum isn’t crying to mourn the man he became; she’s just finally safe to grieve about the man she loved and lost. Simon hasn’t been able to face her in a while since he’s come to the conclusion that his being born was the cause of everything horrible that has happened to her.

“No, I suppose not,” Simone says. The house feels smaller than he remembers, but when he walks into his childhood bedroom, he’s transported to darker times. The room is as big as the whole world again. This room, this damn house, is his only world. He’s nine and cowering in fear again. He’s little again. He’s scared again. He wants to run away, but his scrawny little legs won’t let him. Dad won’t let him.

Then he blinks and realizes that the room hasn’t changed all that much.

Within the next week, Simon gets the house demolished and the land sold.

“Ta-da!” You present to him a knitted, baby-blue blanket. The beginning stitchwork is sloppy at best with considerable improvement the further he looks. Between every thread, Simon can practically feel the love that’s stitched in it.

“You like it?” You ask him, looking at him expectantly.

“It’s perfect.”

“Liar!” Your laugh rings through the cabin, and Simon feels like he’s being bathed in sunlight from the warmth of the sound alone. It’s distinctly yours, and he doesn’t want to be the barbarian who just takes and takes, but he wants it all to himself. He wants to catch it from the air and stuff it in his pockets and save it for when he’s in a foreign country and can’t sleep at night.

“Why would I lie? It’s perfect.” You’re perfect.

“I messed up, like, five times trying to get this damn thing started! And it was so hard to get into a good groove since Simon Jr. thinks he’s a little football player. He’s been kicking like crazy!” To prove your point, you get closer to Simon and take one of his large hands, placing it on your growing belly. He’s sitting, surrounded by tools and pieces of a crib that he’s trying to build, and all he can do is look up in admiration at you, the most beautiful woman to walk this earth, an angel too good for this world, the mother of his child, his wife, you. Your hand is on top of his, and you squeeze it gently, and he loves the way the diamond on your wedding ring glitters in the sunlight.

“He’s a strong one, alright.” Simon chuckles, feeling the way his son bumps against your belly.

“Must get it from you, then.”

That’s funny. Simon was just about to say that he’s pretty sure he gets it from you.

When he’s with you, Simon likes to take things slow. He can be rough at times, demanding and conquering you with nothing but brute strength and vulgar compliments. Like a true soldier, you take all of his transgressions in stride.

Tonight is one of the nights where Simon will indulge and finally take things slow. He likes to savor every moment he gets with you because no matter how much time has passed, the pessimist in him doesn’t stop reminding him that time is fickle, and the future is never promised.

But Simon wants to build a future with you. Simon has built a future, but he’s greedy. So, so greedy. He wants more, he wants all of you, he wants everything you’re willing to give him. The way you part your legs for him, how you willingly — lovingly — let him in, even though nature resists.

No matter how many times he’s split you open on his cock, even with the slickness of the previous two orgasms he so happily wrung out from you, there’s still resistance as the width and length of his cock struggle to slide into your cunt.

“It’s okay, love, let me in.” His whispers of reassurance are barely heard over your little whimpers. You’re nodding, trying to be a good girl for him, but the fact of the matter is that Simon Riley is incredibly too big. He is a god among men, and you find yourself squeezing his hand tightly as the first few inches of his cock make its way into your warmth.

“I know, darling.” He mumbles, but his gentle words are spoken roughly. Desire coats every syllable, and his voice is gravelly. He’s holding back, restraining himself from giving in and giving it to you roughly. His hand, so much larger than your own, squeezes back. He’s slowly pushing more of his length inside your needy cunt, and you moan at the feeling of being complete.

You don’t realize the tears that are welling up in the corner of your eyes as he completely enters you, the tip of his cock perfectly pressed against your cervix. Simon’s always been good at mixing pain and pleasure, and tonight is a testament to that.

“More, please.” It comes out like a weak, little whine, and Simon is putty in your hands. Completely malleable to your every whim and desire. His love wants more? He’ll give you everything.

Your lashes are wet with your tears, and he watches as tiny streams of tears fall down your heated cheeks. Your face feels warm to the touch, Simon realizes, as he leans down to kiss away your tears. Poor thing. You must have exerted yourself too much when you were thrashing around earlier as he refused to remove his mouth from your precious pussy until you came in his mouth.

You’re no match for the sheer strength and power of Simon, who’s built like a Greek god and probably just as powerful. You surrender to the overwhelming sensation of his cock stroking in and out of your cunt, and you’re damn near shameless in your greed and desire for more.

“Cum in me. I want you to give me another baby, wanna grow our family with you.” You toss your head back in pleasure, feeling the way his grip on your hand tightens at your words. The two of you move perfectly together; you wrap your legs around his waist as his free hand grips your hip to keep you steady.

“Yeah? My wife wants me to fuck another baby into her?” Simon grunts, doubling his efforts to ensure that his cock hits deep enough to press against all the spots that have your walls tightening around him.

The throbbing of his cock and the allure of expanding your family with Simon, with having a part of him always, even after the two of you have left this earth, is enough to send you over the edge. The ecstasy is all-consuming; all you know is Simon. You feel him to the depth of your core, his heat pressed against your own, your shared bedroom heavy with lust and love.

He loves the way your body goes slack from the intensity of your orgasm. It lets him know that he’s fucked you just the way you deserved to be fucked, filled to the brim with his cock and his cum and all his love. He kisses you hard, savoring the natural sweetness of your lips pressed against his own. He muffles your moans as you feel the endless stream of his cum spilling inside of you, the warmth of it all being almost too much to bear.

“Mmmf,” You pull back from his kiss, just so you can look him in the eyes as you give him his favorite reminder in the world.

“I love you.”

He responds with another deep kiss. It says enough. It says I love you, too, and we’re going for a round two.

He has all the time in the world with you.

He doesn’t feel any pain. That’s odd.

He looks back to the last minute. He heard the distinct sound of a gun firing, and he stumbled a bit as fate had its cruel fun and allowed the bullet to miraculously hit him in the one area his bulletproof gear just so happened to miss. What are the odds?

He looks down. A dark stain is forming on his uniform, and the spot only continues to grow bigger. He moves a hand down to where the stain is at — it’s wet. A fresh wound. Fuck.

The sentiment is shared with Soap, who for once in his life doesn’t have anything smart to say. Ghost wants to say something cheeky, then. Just to keep him calm. It worked with Tommy.

What’s the matter? Don’t worry about me. Should’ve seen the other guy. Almost had him in the last round.

The words, Ghost realizes with growing dread, don’t quite come so easily.

It’s like his brain knows what he wants to do, but nothing is going as planned. Soap is saying something, but he just can’t quite make out the words. Johnny, speak proper fucking English, why don’t ya?

No. That’s not the issue. Ghost frowns, but he doesn’t think Soap notices because of his damn mask. He can’t speak for shit, and he can’t hear, either. Actually, now that he’s really trying to take in his surroundings, everything’s a bit hazy, too. Like someone’s put some stupid film over everything, and stuff’s all slightly blurry. Just out of focus, just out of reach.

“—get you home, alright?” The words sound all jumbled up, and Ghost only really catches the last end of whatever Soap’s blabbing on about. He’s a good kid. Great soldier. Stellar human being. He mentioned something about going home, but that’s just silly. The mission isn’t over yet, get it? They can’t go home ‘til the mission’s complete.

“—don’t close your eyes—”

Home sounds nice. Warm vanilla in the colder seasons, jasmine with equal hints of something fruity and floral in the warmer ones. You fill the house with these scents, even matching your daily perfume to it. Doesn’t matter much to him, though. He hugs you close to his body and breathes in deeply, and he can still smell just you. No perfume will ever compare.

Oh, and a busy kitchen. You’re covered in flour, his son sits on the counter, his daughter in her high chair. The entire kitchen comes to life, and every time he sees all three of you giggling in unison, his favorite sound of all, this kitchen becomes his whole world. This is what he goes to war to protect.

Baby blue walls and a crib. Crayon drawings of a stick figure family. Watching his daughter’s first steps and his son clinging to your legs.

Maybe Soap’s right. Forget the mission. He should just head home.

But first, he’s really fucking tired. He’ll shut his eyes just for a minute.

He blinks a few times, eyes struggling to adjust to the light. Light slaps against his face were the cause for his waking up. A damn shame, honestly. He rarely dreams, but when he does, it’s of you, and he was dreaming about something certainly worth remembering for the next time he’s reunited with you.

He rolls over to confront whoever dared to ruin the one good rest he’s had in a long time, only to come face to face with bright, innocent eyes the same shade as his own.

“G’morning,” his son says, the words still clumsy on the two-year-old’s tongue. When Simon doesn’t answer immediately, he resumes slapping his father’s face.

“I’m up, buddy.”

The little toddler claps his chubby little hands together in pure joy.

“Dada home?”

Like a sight for sore eyes, you appear in the doorway, gently opening the door and pushing it open. You’ve got your daughter in your arms, and you look ready to scold the young boy for disturbing Simon until you realize that he’s already awake. There’s that smile of yours that Simon loves so much, the one he swears could bring him back to life.

“I’m home.”

author's note i intended for these little scenes/glimpses of his life to be the things ghost sees as he's bleeding out on the field. get it? the whole "life flashing before your eyes" thing BAHAHAHA. don't worry, he's alive and very much well, enjoying much needed domesticity with you + your little family. the last scene is him fucking u good and well, and that's the lil dream he was having. muahaha

#ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #one shot #drabble #fluff #angst #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw2 smut #ghost smut #simon riley smut

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sheluvv-gambino · 10 months

Note

Can you do a 42 miles x reader. He has a crush on her and she’s really bold don’t give no fucks so, when they meet he’s rude and she gives back that same energy. 😂

Spitfire.

A/N: I hope i served your vision justice, anon!

pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader

summary : It dosen't matter who it is, you refuse for any man to put fear in your blood. Yes, that includes Miles Morales.

warnings : cursing I guess?

You had been at the school for maybe a month and yet you had still not bumped into the infamous Miles Morales. Until…

bang!

Your shoulder collided with something hard. Well someone with brick like muscles that was just standing in the middle of the hall staring at something you didn’t know and didn’t care about.

“What, you don’t know where your going or something…?” The figure spoke.

You looked up to see a tall brown skin with a screwed up face glaring down at you.

“Who the fuck are you talkin’ to right now?” You exclaimed. I mean the audacity of this guy right now. “Ion know about you but where i’m from we don’t stand in the middle of a crowded hall like you don’t got a clue where your supposed to go.”

You walked away in a prideful step.

Your mother raised you better then to take any form of disrespect.

But from that whole interaction with Miles you were oblivious to the fact that the reason Miles had stopped was because he was caught up texting Ganke about how he should approach you. You caught his eye the moment you stepped in with your Jordan’s that were identical to his. So when your shoulder collided with his he didn’t want to act like a total fool and stare at your astonishing eyes, instead he acted defensive as he does with everyone else. What he wasn’t expecting was you to rebuttal by cussing him out then walking away with not a single look back. Yeah, he was certain that he was going to fall in love with you somehow.

————————-

It was about about an hour after school on a Friday and your new found friend group had invited you out to a basketball court where the most social interaction happened between people your own age.

Obviously, there was a game going on the basketball court.

Miles seemed to be involved with it.

So whilst he was playing you got the chance to admire him.

As much of a dick you truly thought he was, you couldn’t help but stare at the way his two cornrows shaped his sharp features. He was quite attractive but you wouldn’t dare to admit it considering he clearly didn’t know how to move out of the way when in the hauls.

Miles was just about to shoot when he looked to his left and saw you staring at him. He couldn’t seem to break the eye contact that you both held. In result he missed the basket and got a chorus of…

“…Milesss!”

“C’mon man!”

“How’d you miss that, Miles?!”

He really didn’t care even that he may have jeopardised his teams end result of the game.

“Hol’ on i’ll be back later.” He muttered as he dropped the ball and drifted to where you and your friends were.

His teammates looked around to see where Miles lost his head because there was no way Miles would ever walk out of a game just like that.

Your friends were all looking around to see who Miles was headed too.

When Miles sat beside you on the bench your friends all decided to act like 3rd graders and start with the “Oooh!”.

You glared up at him before he decided to speak.

“Before you decide to cuss me out again, I just wanted to apologise for acting like a dumbass and talking to you crazy.” Miles said as he put his hands up in surrender.

A small grin graced your lips. A man that actually apologised like a gentlemen, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“We’ll i accept your apology. My names Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I know. I’m Miles Morales.”

“I know.”

6 months later…

You and Miles were cuddled up in your bed back at home as a your favourite movie played in the background.

“Y’know I had a crush on you before we actually met in the hall.” He whispered as his thumb stroked your skin on your shoulder.

You moved your head up against his chest and looked at him longingly as a signal to continue.

“That’s why I stopped in the middle of the hall…I was asking Ganke about how to approach you. And then you cussed me out for no reason!”

“Uh uh, I had to put you in your place for giving me attitude.”

“Mhm sure, guapa. OW!”

You looked down to see your cat (Simba) playing with Miles’ foot by biting and gnawing on it.

“Aww Simba is finally showing you love!” You giggled.

“Yeah, whatever.”

#across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles g morales #earth 42 miles #prowler miles #spiderverse #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales earth 42

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Text

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), DUBCON, dark themes, monster fucking, cunnilingus, fingering f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, mild anal play f receiving, dirty talking, degradation, squirting, crying, pussy slapping, spanking, face slapping, creampie, praise kink, biting, blood play, blood kink, no aftercare.

Word Count | 3.7k

A/N | just a lil something since it's halloween, it's only fair we delve into something a bit spooky and out of the ordinary. can't lie i've mortified myself this time but i'm so into it.

"Where have you been all my life?" A figure slides up beside you where you stand at the drinks table, cup in hand filled with some gross 'Halloween Punch' that Harrington had promised tasted good (it didn't), some shitty Blondie tune playing loud in the background, mostly drowned out by the rowdy noise of the party.

You turn your head to glance at said figure, to find Eddie Munson standing there with a smirk on his red stained lips. He's a vampire (you think?), albeit a fantastic one. You had to admit his costume was great as you drank in his appearance. He really had gone all out, red horns poking out from beneath his bangs, large black bat wings fanned out across his back, fingers dusted charcoal and he'd even gone to the trouble of sticking on impossibly long talon-like nails.

His actual outfit could be considered normal, a black button down silk shirt on his torso, two buttons open to reveal a chain dangling from his neck, what looked to be fake bite marks chomped into the surrounding skin. A simple pair of ripped jeans and white trainers to finish the look off, but you could forgive him for the lack of detail in the actual clothes with how good his prosthetics were.

"What are you supposed to be?" You ask, furrowed brows as you brush your hand out to touch his wings, feeling the soft, leathery texture under your fingertips. It feels expensive, which was weird because you were so sure Eddie was dirt poor. Maybe you were wrong.

"I suppose you could call me a vampire-bat hybrid?" Eddie smirks, and you bite your glossy red lip when you see the two crystal white fangs sparkle in the light. Fangs had always done it for you, really, there was something about vampires that got you all hot and bothered.

"Looks good," You say eventually, voice strained as you bring your cup up to your mouth and swig a little of the absolutely vile concoction. You screw your face up in disgust as you swallow, trying to ignore the way the liquid almost comes back up as fast as it goes down.

Eddie crowds into your space, leaning over you to grab a bottle of Bud sat just inches from where you were. Your breath hitches at the feeling of him so close to you, his scent and the cold coming from his body enough to make you feel dizzy.

There was something off about him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. You admittedly hadn't seen Eddie Munson since you graduated in '84 and left Hawkins rather abruptly to study across the country. But you remembered him being a little warmer than this, a little shyer, a little more human.

You stand there awkwardly for a moment longer before excusing yourself to the bathroom, feigning that you needed to rearrange your costume - a party city zombie cheerleader outfit, not exactly enough to leave much to the imagination, and not really an outfit that needed fixing, but Eddie takes your word for it, and you bounce off without another word.

Knowing Steve well enough, you sneak into his room to use his own private bathroom, any party goers being schmucks and using the main bathroom that had a queue the size of Hawkins outside of it. You were surprised he wasn't in there himself with some girl, the room completely void of human life.

You give yourself a second, brushing out your skirt and pulling your ponytail tight. The costume wasn't a far cry from your days at Hawkins High, you were an it girl in those days after all. Not head cheerleader, but on the team - people had liked you more for other reasons.

You unclick the lock on the bathroom door, pulling it open to come face to face with the person you'd ran away from. You jump out of your skin a little, Eddie's face lit up with a little smirk at the reaction he elicits from you. You furrow your brows and shut the door behind you, making to leave without a word, but he won't let you.

It truly was dizzying being up this close to Eddie, his body crowding in on yours and backing you up against Steve's door, and you swear you see his wings curl in too but that could be from the one too many drinks you'd plied yourself with.

"Are you scared of me?" Eddie asks, picking up on the way your heart races and thuds loudly beneath your ribcage, making his fangs ache and his head cloudy with need to sink in and taste the wet, metallic gush of your blood.

"N-no," You stutter, head lulling to the side a little to invite him in, to let him nuzzle his nose in and smell you properly, which he does so gratefully, the pointed edges of his fangs sliding out to graze at your goosebump riddled skin, making you shiver, "does... does anybody know?"

Eddie huffs out a little laugh against your skin, fangs disappearing so he can press a sweet kiss to your neck, "Know what? Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

You gasp out loud at the feeling of Eddie's lips on you, the way his big hands come out to grasp at your hips and hold you in place, "I don't - I don't know, Eddie. You don't seem like yourself. You're not the guy I remember."

Your head is hazy, a mixture of alcohol and whatever weird spell Eddie was putting on you enough to have you confused and doubting yourself. Maybe you truly were just crazy and making this up in your drunk brain, but you were almost positive you knew what was going on here. It terrified you, and you wanted to back away, but it was like your feet were planted firmly in their place, glued down and rendering you unable to run.

Eddie smirks against your neck, hand running from your hip to brazenly slide under your skirt, and you can't help but notice his nails have somehow disappeared, soft pads of his fingers running along your clothed folds, "Your soaking wet pussy tells me you like this though, sweetheart. So wet you're drenching your panties for me."

You shiver, a moan escaping your lips as he moves your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to the cool air. His cold fingers expertly find your clit right away, rubbing it in slow, hard circles that have you mewling.

Your whole body feels like it's on fire, a sensation you've never felt as Eddie assaults your cunt with his fingertips, you're trapped in a trance that you can't pull yourself out of, all of your senses rushing with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Your hands come out to grip at his hair, fingertips accidentally knocking one of his horns and he growls, snapping back from his place in your neck to stare you down with hard eyes, fingertips stuttering on your clit and suddenly he's slapping your cunt hard. You let out a shocked, high-pitched moan at the harsh sting vibrating through your folds and your bundle of nerves, leaving you in a cold sweat and your legs almost buckling.

"Hands to your fucking self, I'm in charge here." Eddie's voice is quiet, but his words come out so harsh and venomous that it frightens you, though your cunt clenches uncontrollably, like it has a mind of its own, "Go lie on the fucking bed and spread your legs like the whore you are."

You do it wordlessly and without question, your legs moving before your brain can comprehend it, like you're under a spell. At this point, you're wondering if you are, because the real you wasn't like this - she doesn't let herself be bossed around, she doesn't allow men to touch her without her say so. You know it's bad, yet you can't stop it, because it doesn't feel wrong in the way it should.

Steve's bed is big and plush, nothing less could be expected of him really, and you sink into it, propping yourself up on your elbows so you didn't feel so vulnerable, spreading your legs wide like Eddie commanded of you. He creeps towards you like a predator stalking his prey, his dark eyes almost black now and something behind them that you can't quite pinpoint.

In the dim light Eddie's skin appears to be flushed a deep red that almost looks supernatural, like he'd covered himself in oil paints. He grabs a tight hold of your ankles and pulls them, yanking you down the bed until your ass is almost over the edge. You watch him in awe as he kneels on the floor in front of you, head going under your short skirt.

"You won't be needing these." He mutters against the insides of your thighs, then you feel and hear him ripping at the lacey material of your panties. They fall in tatters to the floor, discarded to be long forgotten about.

You gasp as he plants wet, sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs, and you feel the points of his fangs brush the skin just hard enough to feel like a papercut. Your fingers clench into the sheets, blown away by how even the slightest touch has you a wet, whimpering mess for him.

"Your cunt smells so fuckin' good," Eddie groans, nestling his nose in between your folds and inhaling deep, "so sweet, just like the rest of you. Good enough to eat."

"Wha-" Your voice dies in your throat as Eddie's long pointed tongue comes out to lick a stripe up the seam of your pussy. He finds your clit as fast with his tongue as he did with his fingers, latching on and suckling at it hard.

The noises escaping you are sad and pathetic, truly, for all it is he's actually doing. You're moaning like you'd never been touched in your life, begging and pleading, "Eddie, please, fuck."

Your hips buck into his face of their own accord and Eddie growls against your cunt, his big hand coming up to shove your hips back down, forearm laying across the width of your pelvis to hold them down so you couldn't move. You can't even focus enough to brace yourself for two of his fingers from the opposite hand circling your entrance and sliding in to the hilt until it's too late.

The slick sounds of your wet cunt being assaulted by Eddie's mouth and fingers fill your senses, making you gush even wetter and clench around his thick fingers. They're so deep you can feel his rings catching on your hole and breaching slightly, it's enough to have you feeling dizzy with want and need.

Your arms finally give out and you fall flat against the bed, mewling and eyes pricking wet with tears as the pads of Eddie's fingers run along your spongey spot and don't let up. You can feel your orgasm building quickly, tummy winding tight and the hot heat spreading through your whole body.

Eddie's mouth is utterly sinful, his tongue working your clit expertly like he'd done this a thousand times before, like something straight out of a porn flick. Your body succumbs to him like you're his for the taking, like his fingers were meant to be buried deep in your cunt forever and his mouth was made specifically for you.

You come so hot and fast you're crying, sobbing wetly, moaning and thrashing uselessly as Eddie's fingers are forced out of you from the sheer power of it - all he does is bury his face harder in your cunt in retaliation. You gush wet and hard enough that you hear it trickling onto the hardwood floor in front of Eddie's knees, feel it run down your ass.

Eddie licks you clean, sharp tongue running all the way down to your asshole and even sucking you dry there, big hands moving to spread your cheeks and shove his face in. In your state you can't find it in you to be embarrassed or feel disgusted, your body feeling like jelly and placid enough that Eddie could do whatever he wanted and get away with it.

You're so out of it that you don't realise Eddie moving you up the bed and tearing your shirt off until he's hovering between your legs and your tits are on full display. He leans down to lick and bite at the round of your left breast, his large hand grabbing the other and kneading it. His wings are encasing you both now, enough to shield you from view if anyone were to walk in.

The wetness of your tears roll down the sides of your face and pool in your ears and hair. Somewhere in your subconscious you're begging him to stop, but your body is keening into him, and your lips betray you with the noises of content that fall from them.

You make to lift your hands up to shove him away, but Eddie's reflexes are incredible and his own hands come out to grasp at your wrists and force them down onto the bed, holding you down tightly. You try to thrash around but it dies when Eddie bares his fangs and sinks them into the flesh of your tit.

The feeling that overcomes you is something you'd never felt before, your body flushes hot like you have a high fever, your skin prickling with want as your tummy coiled up in knots. Eddie drinks from you in silence, the only noises to be heard are the slight slurp of wetness from your dripping blood and the moans escaping your lips.

You come again. Hard, hot and fast. Not a single part of Eddie's body near your cunt, yet you're shuddering and gushing wet on the bed, enough to soak the comforter beneath your legs and ass.

It feels wrong, your pussy clenching around nothing and your body wracking with aftershocks. Eddie's fangs retract and he's smirking against your skin, tongue lapping up the blood still trickling from the wounds on your breast.

"Dirty fuckin' slut, coming just from my fangs in you. You're so fucking easy for it, what a silly little girl." Eddie laughs at you and you're crying again, squeezing your eyes shut as he mocks you, but you like it, you're so ashamed you can't stop the tears from falling.

Eddie roughly grips your chin, shaking you a little until you open your eyes. You're mortified by the sight in front of you, your blood dripping down Eddie's chin and neck, spreading down the open neck of his shirt.

He looks like a monster, the facade gone and his true form on display in all of its glory. He looks deranged, eyes as black as the Devil's, skin flushed crimson and his fangs on full display. The only thing reminding you that it's Eddie perched in front of you is his curly hair, looking out of place on his body. You should be scared, turned off, trying to back out of the door and run for your life.

Yet, you still lie there, with your legs spread for him and refusing to budge. You hazard letting your hands come out to grasp at his silk shirt and he surprisingly lets you, lets you unbutton it with nimble fingers until the front is open and exposing the bites in his toned chest and stomach.

Something had done a number on him; you know that much. Chunks of flesh are missing, deep enough that he should be dead. Through the fog of your brain, you're aware now more than ever that he probably is in fact dead - the undead.

Time was a mere concept to you in your hazy state, as you watch Eddie unbuckle the belt on his jeans, sliding them down his thighs with his underwear to expose himself, hard cock springing out into the cool air, making him hiss.

You shoot up from your place on the bed, sitting up properly to get a good look at what was in front of you.

It was like nothing you'd ever seen in your life.

It was a dick, that much was obvious, clearly. But it matched the rest of his undead body, flushed deep red from base to tip. Where there should've been veins, there were now symmetrical ridges, all the way down to the fat head. The head itself was curved upwards, almost like it was made for stroking a gspot.

And, to put it bluntly, it was fucking huge. Your mouth watered uncontrollably, the urge to reach out and touch it tugging at your gut.

Eddie reaches out and slaps you with a flat palm against your cheek, the connection loud enough to snap you out of your trance, "I said, get up on your knees. Be a good girl and ride me."

Your body moves subconsciously, trading places with Eddie and swinging your leg over so you were hovering just above his hard cock. You couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted to. At this point, you're so far gone that even the voice niggling at the back of your head had died down, leaving you a wanton, submissive mess.

He makes the first move, grabbing his cock by the base and running the head between your folds, getting himself nice and wet. Eddie makes no noise as an indicator as to whether he's genuinely enjoying this or not, just breaches your cunt with the tip until you're gasping and rocking your hips a little.

It's wide, a ridiculous stretch that you're not used to and probably could never get used to. Eddie grips onto your ass with his free hand, slapping it hard enough that you slide down another inch, your back arching a little and tears forming in your eyes.

"Little baby can't take my cock, how cute," Eddie's voice is condescending, mocking you enough to have your cunt clench around him, eliciting a hiss from his lips, "you're gonna take it all like a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

Another slap to your ass has you sliding down again, taking in another inch. You can feel every ridge of his cock, every weird texture, the fat bulb of the head already abusing your soft spot. It hurt, but it hurt so good, like you were being stretched apart from the inside.

Eddie grows impatient at how slow you're going, grabbing a tight hold of your hips and impaling you on the last of his cock until you're screaming, fingertips gripping at his mauled shoulders as you cry, cunt gripping sporadically around the length of him.

You feel so full it's pathetic, if you poked your tummy you'd be able to feel him nestled in your stomach. Could probably see it if you wanted to hazard a glance down.

"You're such a whiny little thing, aren't you? Crying for me," Eddie coos, bucking his hips up a little for emphasis until you're biting out a wet sob, "your little sobs sound like music in my ears, sweetheart."

He doesn't let you become accustomed to the size of his cock in you, lifting your hips up as if you're weightless and shoving you back down to the hilt. You moan in between your cries, body going lax in his hands as you let him do what he wants with you.

Eddie's demeanor breaks eventually and he moans into the expanse of your throat, massive cock fucking into you relentlessly from below and there's nothing you can do but take it, feeling every bit of him consuming your body, "Such a good little slut for me, taking my monster cock so well. You love it, huh? Love being treated like a little fuck toy."

You nod, tears streaming consistently, "Y-yes, Eddie. F-fuck, m'so full." You cry out, the sounds of your soaking wet cunt sucking his cock in making you clench impossibly tighter around him, "Bite me again, aah, wanna come again, please."

Your wet sobs are almost enough to have Eddie folding, sinking his teeth into you without a second thought, but instead his large hand comes up to grab your ponytail, pulling your head back until you're looking at the ceiling as his hips snap up into your own, "Scream a bit louder. Want everyone at this party to hear you cry and beg for me."

The head of Eddie's cock is relentless on your spongey spot, his hips snapping into yours hard enough you're going to be left with so many bruises, "Eddie!" Your voice is primal, you'd never heard yourself sound like this before, "Pleasepleaseplease, m'begging, let me come."

"Atta girl, begging for me all sweet." Eddie smirks, pulling your ponytail impossibly tighter until your back is arched, he leans over and bites into your neck, sinking his fangs in to the hilt as his hips continue to fuck up into you, the brutal assault feeling like it's never ending.

The hot waves of pleasure wash over you so quick you barely comprehend it, the feeling of Eddie feeding from your veins making your cunt clench around his cock as you come again, squirting wet and hot all over him, drenching his balls and his thighs.

Eddie shoves you onto your back without pulling out, driving into you deep and impossibly fast with his fangs still in your throat. He comes not long after, succumbing to the feeling of your tight pussy and your hot blood dripping down his throat, a deep groan escaping him as he buried himself in to the hilt as your clenching cunt helped work him through, "You're mine now, sweetheart. Don't think I'm done with you, I'll be back."

You pass out with his words swimming in your head, for how long you're unsure, but when you wake up Eddie is gone, the fog that clouded your brain leaving with him.

Your aching neck, leaking cunt and bruised body the only reminder he was ever there.

You wonder if he meant it, if you truly would ever see him again.

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in1-nutshell · 1 month

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Human Buddy going through a break up with the Scavengers

SFW, Platonic, Slight Angst, Comfort from everyone, Human reader

Buddy had been in a relationship before they had left Earth and kept in contact through the internet when they met the Scavengers. The group had heard plenty of stories about this mysterious partner of Buddy’s.

It was almost adorable to hear them rave about their partner.

As a gift for Buddy’s birthday, the Scavengers decided to travel to Earth. Spend a couple days on the planet, let Buddy have a couple dates with their significant other, sight see, the whole works. Everything was going well on their way until Buddy received a text from their significant other.

A text saying they wanted to break things off and promptly blocked Buddy from any form of communication.

Buddy is devastated and now the Scavengers have heard the story too.

Krok

Krok is hugging Buddy as they are sobbing into his armor.

He doesn’t say much at first, he knows he needs Buddy to calm down before anything else can be done.

When he thinks that enough time has passed, he is ready to get Buddy better.

All Scavengers are on deck.

He tries to get Buddy distracted in some of their old hobbies.

When they are playing Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang, Krok lets Buddy take a free shot at him. He is worried about Buddy getting better and he is doing the best he can to help them through this hard time.

Krok holding Buddy to his chassis.

“It’s okay Buddy, take your time.”--Krok

Buddy still clinging to Krok’s armor letting the rest of their tears fall.

“Sorry for taking up so much of your time…”--Buddy

“No, I told you was going to be here for you and I’m not going to go down from that promise.”--Krok

Buddy sniffles a bit pressing their face more into his armor.

Krok carefully runs his digits up and down Buddy’s back.

“There, there… there, there…”--Krok

Crankcase

His famous scowl gets deeper.

Crankcase feels for Buddy a lot.

He considers himself lucky seeing how his online relationship ended up working out.

Let’s Buddy have their time to be sad, but after that, he is not going to let them be sad for a sorry excuse of an organic.

The passive aggressive hype bot on board.

He and CONS-4EVA team up to get Buddy back on the dating field after a while.

While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ he will give Buddy a few more openings than usual, maybe even let them get a free shot at him.

Buddy scrolling through the dating app with Crankcase and CON’s looking at it too.

“What about this one?”--Buddy

“Hmm… red flag. He’s got a fish on his profile picture.”—CONS-4EVA

“All right, how about this one?”--Buddy

“Maybe… no, don’t do that one. She’s got a sketchy background.”--Crankcase

“…This one?”--Buddy

“…Put it in the cart.”--Crankcase

“You can’t do that on this app Crankcase.”--Buddy

Spinister

Spinister suggest shooting the person who made Buddy cry like this.

A bit awkward with the affection, but he is trying.

After a few days of Buddy being sad he’ll go on the internet to see what he can do about Buddy’s heartbreak.

A minor spark attack when he reads that humans can die of heart break.

His fleshy isn’t going to die on his watch.

Has Buddy in constant view and encourages them to seek out the team more.

While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ nothing changes much in their dynamic… except the few times he will let them have a chance to shoot him

Or maybe throw them at the opponent.

That one nearly gives Krok a spark attack.

Buddy was sitting on the table reading a data pad.

Spinister and Krok were drinking some enegex and talking about the latest hole Grimlock made.

Buddy twitches a bit before sneezing.

Spinister turns his neck so fast Krok is sure that he snapped it.

He jumps over the couch, snatches Buddy up, grabs a blanket and starts wrapping them up into a burrito.

“Spin—”--Buddy

“Shh! No talking.”—Spinister

Spinister starts walking to the med bay.

“Why are we heading to the med bay?”--Buddy

“Check if your organic spark is still online.”--Spinister

“Excuse me, but my what?!”—Buddy

“Their WHAT!?”--Krok

Fulcrum

As much as Fulcrum hates organics, Buddy has grown on him quite a bit.

That being said, he still isn’t completely comfortable with touching.

More words of encouragement kind of mech.

He does have sympathy for Buddy and their heart break.

Probably tells Buddy minor insensitive things about their ex later.

While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ he’ll offer himself as a shield three times and three times only.

Fulcrum holding a broom and gently petting Buddy from his perch.

“There, there.”--Fulcrum

Buddy looks up a bit strangely at Fulcrum who was on top of the fridge petting them with a broom.

“Everything will be okay eventually.”--Fulcrum

Buddy looks at the dust bunnies floating down on their lap.

At least he’s trying.

Misfire

Another one of the bots holding Buddy as they cry their little heart out.

Tries to make jokes too early on but backs off when he gets a bunch of glares and Buddy starts to cry harder.

Offers to go with Spinister to go shoot the person who broke up with them.

Top hype man for Buddy to get back on their feet.

When playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ defiantly makes an alliance with them and Grimlock.

50 50 on him throwing Buddy in the air.

“Got you now Mis—”--Fulcrum

“SNEAK ATTACK!”--Misfire

Misfire throws Buddy at Fulcrum.

Fulcrum screams and ducks, Krok swan dives and catches Buddy.

“Misfire! What in the name of Cybertron—”--Krok

BANG!

Krok looks at the suction cup stick on his forehelm.

Misfire walks over and grabs Buddy.

“HA! Eat it Krok!”--Misfire

Grimlock

While he can’t communicate too much, Grimlock does keep Buddy close while they are down.

Wants to squish whatever made Buddy this depressed.

He doesn’t want Buddy to feel sad.

He lets Buddy hide with him when things are a bit much.

While playing ‘Shoot-Shoot-Bang-Bang’ Grimlock offers himself as a shield, will growl at anyone who tries to get close to Buddy.

Misfire enters the room.

“Hey Grimmy! Have you seen Buddy around?”--Misfire

Grimlock looks at him before slowly moving his tail.

Buddy fast asleep at his side, snoring and twitching.

“Oh, I’ll come back in a bit. Sweet dreams you two.”--Misfire

Misfire closes the door.

Grimlock wraps his tail around them and continues to sleep to the sound of Buddy snoring.

#transformers x reader #maccadam #human buddy #mtmte scavengers #mtmte scavengers x platonic reader

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greenhorn-art · 4 months

Text

World Champions | Artwork for World Champions by TheDefenestrator by TheDefenestrator, art by Blurb_brain

Fandom: The King's Avatar | 全职高手

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Words: 71 944

At the end of season 4 of the Glory Pro Alliance, the government finally receives the information it has been waiting for: The other players have caught up. Or, In which Glory has been a government recruitment ploy for remote-piloted mecha operators all along.

About the Book

FONTS: Mundo Serif, Azonix [dafont], Segoe UI Symbol

IMAGES: Illustration by Blurb_brain [AO3]; cover image by NASA ID: 440611 [Rawpixel]; Planet Earth background ID: 6331593 [Rawpixel]; Circuit lines background ID: 3117935 [Rawpixel]; endpapers' image by Eric Eastman [Unsplash]; Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer [The King's Avatar Wikia]

MATERIALS: regular printer paper (8.5"x11", 96 bright, 20lb), 80pt bookboard, Iris Bookcloth (colour: Black Pearl), Neenah cardstock (8.5"x11", bright white, 65lb), waxed linen thread (white, 30/3 size), embroidery floss (shades 3750, 350, 3845, 370), leather cording (1.9mm diameter), Reeves’ acrylic paint (Mars Black, Phthalo Blue, Titanum White), Americana acrylic paint (glow in the dark), ph neutral pva glue (Books by Hand)

PROGRAMS USED: Typeset in Affinity Publisher, cover/title page/endpapers designed in Affinity Designer/Photo, QR codes generated with LibreOffice Writer, PDF arranged for printing with Bookbinder-JS

BINDING STYLE: quarto, case bound (slightly rounded, with oxford hollow, forgot to use tapes)

Fenes' "Glory's tech isn't handwaved" AU. This was great! Funny and creative, and I'm both amazed and full of admiration for Fenes' ability to juggle so many characters.

I was feeling excited and ambitious with this one. Tried some new fun things (double core endbands, painted edges) and used some new equipment (a lying press).

The Text

TITLE/HEADINGS FONT: Azonix says 'SciFi' to me, it's a bold, non-serif, sleek font.

BODY FONT: Mundo Serif, it's a decent serif body font I haven't used before. Felt like it worked with Azonix.

SCENE BREAKS: a special character in Segoe UI Symbol of a black & white icon of Earth, the globe showing Asia.

TYPESETTING: Finished typesetting the fic, left document open on my laptop, laptop's battery failed, file now crashes immediately upon reopening, issue persists with copied versions of file (；￣Д￣) . Thankfully I had a backup file for the typeset with the barebones of the text, so I didn't have to restart from scratch...

Title Page

My thinking: it takes place in space, the world's at stake, and it's the dawn of a new horizon for Earth. Glory and the titular champions are represented by Swoksaar, Desert Dust, Lord Grim, Vaccaria, and Cloud Piercer – the captains of what I'd call the 'big 5' teams. A circuitry board background element hints at the tech/mecha nature of the story's competition. It may not match Blurb's art, but I hope I was able to convey some of what the story is about.

The circuitry image is used as decoration throughout the book. I only used the avatars of the top five teams' captains because too many silhouettes would lessen their impact and readability. (Removing the backgrounds was tedious, but worth it.)

Here's what it should have looked like. The test prints for this and the BB art were fine, but I think my inkjet started running out of ink just when I printed the final copies and I didn't reprint them. (Too impatient, really wanted to finish up and read the book)

The Cover

World Champions is another Big Bang fic, and once again I based some of my design choices off of the accompanying artwork. The dominant colours of Blurb_brain's illustration are red and blue-green.

COVER PAPER: For the decorative cover material I used NASA's ASTER image of Poyang Lake. NASA has some really interesting photography some of which remind me of marbled paper, thought it could be interesting. I chose this image of Poyang Lake because 1) it's in China, 2) the colours were similar to Blurb's awesome illustration (fate strikes again, dropping matching images and artwork into my lap!), and 3) NASA is tangentially relevant to the fic, which takes place in space.

BOOKCLOTH: Verona bookcloth in the shade Black Pearl, a lovely dark navy blue colour. Thought it suited the cover paper and title page. (Bought it for this fic specifically, but the colour goes well with almost all of my decorative papers so it should see a lot of use in the future!)

Endpapers

The final decision that held this project at a standstill for two months. In the end I drew inspiration from the matchups against the final opponent in the story. The image I used is a little chaotic and a little too unrelated to identify why I picked it without an explanation, but this book is for me and I know why, so there. (Note that I played around with the colours and cropped the photo.)

Endpaper inspiration: the maps for the matches against the Infilhites

"a long bridge through an enormous tube-like hall, where light seem to come from every side through stained glass windows. It was visually confusing, limited lateral motion" "a warehouse, crates stacked on and beside metal racks that went all the way to the ceiling." "a house of mirrors, fully enclosed to be sure the Infhillte couldn’t fly out of it." "like a volcano, rivers of lava moving sluggishly down a slope, occasional vents of overheated air nearby." "a series of overlapping bridges between halls and stairways, level after level layered over an open abyss."

Trimming & Painting the Edges

Going all out, a 2-for1 deal: the opportunity to use my lying press for the first time and learn a new technique!

TRIMMING: Used a paring chisel and lying press.

CHISEL: The 1.25" wide paring chisel I used was form a modern manufacturer. (Vintage paring chisels are very thin, enough so that you can bend/flex the blade. But don't do that.) It's long and wide blade made it easier to register against the surface of the press for consistent cuts. Looks like this one below from Lee Valley.

LYING PRESS: My dad's project. Solid black walnut, hand carved screws and internal threads — he even made the tools to make the threads too! The jaws of the press are each 3 7/8" wide. It's big and heavy (though much smaller than full-sized professional ones omg), but there's enough of a flat surface to register the chisel against. A thicc boi, much like this one below from Bookbinding Supplies.

PAINTED EDGES: The idea was to have dark navy edges, speckled with white stars. I used acrylic from a tube to paint the edges — tutorials recommended it over liquid bottled acrylic, and I had an old set hanging around. Had to water it down because otherwise the paint just flaked off.

My test of trimming and painting went well. Then the trimmed book itself came out slightly crooked, the paint required significantly more watering-down than before, and the white paint did not want to be both opaque and speckle-able. Unfortunate, but still book-shaped! And now I have an idea of what to do differently next time.

Also, did not like the glow-in-the-dark paint. Looked too translucent in the light when compared to the white acrylic, and needed a thicker coat to be visible in the dark. (The thickness combined with the translucence and base colour kinda reminded me of boogers... Ended up scrapping most of it off, so there's not much left to glow.)

Endbands

Still in the mood to have fun and go all-out, I attempted double-core endbands for the first time.

TUTORIAL: YouTube @ BookbindersChronicle: Bookbinding 101 Sewing Headbands Session 2. Also watched @ DAS Bookbinding's Double-Core Endband // Adventures in Bookbinding, but I personally found Chronicle's closeup video easier to follow.

I used embroidery floss from a 100pk of assorted colours off Amazon, wrapped around a core of 1.9mm leather cording from Michaels. I drew from Blurb_brain's art for the general colours, choosing a dark base, with red, blue-green, and gold. The specific shades were picked to go with the cover.

#World Champions #TheDefenestrator #Blurb_brain #qzgs #tka #the king's avatar #fanfiction #bookbinding #fanbinding

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elspethdekarios · 2 months

Text

Last Light: Gale x Tav

NSFW!!! 🔞

This fic takes place directly after the crew return to Last Light after defeating Ketheric. It's half emotional and sweet, half smut. Yeah, I know it's unrealistic to think that anyone has enough energy to bang after the Moonrise fight, pls suspend your disbelief lol

I hope you enjoy, I put a lot of time into this and I'm quite proud of it 🥹💜

Before you read, you should know a small bit of background info:

My tav, Elspeth, has a ring she's worn for decades that was given to her by her family's housekeeper, Tessie, who thinks of Elspeth as her own. She's always felt more loved by Tessie than she has her own family. The ring is special to her, and it broke shortly into their journey.

------

A crack ran along the surface of the Selunite dome protecting the Last Light Inn, spreading in fractals like the roots of a tree. Slowly, the dome dissipated, following the motions of Isobel’s raised hands. It was still dark outside, but a different darkness–the inky depths of a night sky instead of a green necrotic glow. The air in my lungs felt cleaner, lighter. All around the inn, tieflings and Flaming Fists and Harpers rejoiced with excited squeals, hugging their still-standing loved ones and marveling at the miracle we were witnessing. A hundred years this blight cursed the land–and suddenly, it was gone.

“I won’t fully believe it until the day breaks,” Jaheira said from Isobel’s side. “But I will celebrate all the same.”

I sat on the ground nearby, propped up against a trunk of supplies. My limbs ached, my armor was bloodied, my spirit renewed and spent at the same time. I peeled off my gloves to stretch my fingers, the night air cool and soothing on my sticky skin.

“Alright, soldier?” Karlach’s familiar heat told me she was nearby before she spoke. And the smell of beer. She handed me a mug, frosty and overflowing with foam at the top, and clinked her beer against mine. “We fucking did it! You did it!”

“Yeah, we did,” I said as I gulped down the cold beer. It was the most refreshing drink I’d ever had in my life–and beer was never my beverage of choice. “Though I’m not sure how much of me is left.”

“You lose a limb or something?” she asked. I shook my head. “Didn’t think so. You’ll be good as new after some rest.”

I let my head fall back against the trunk behind me. Just keeping my neck upright was exhausting. We watched the celebration unfolding around us–the residents of Last Light draining the kegs, passing around fresh bread rolls and what fruit we had left. Dammon had even left his forge to join in, laughing in conversation with some of the others. Karlach kept looking in his direction, just briefly, before she would conspicuously look up at the sky or crane her head to the opposite side.

“You like him, don’t you?” I asked.

“What? Who?”

“Dammon.” I nudged her shoulder with mine.

“I don’t–” Karlach protested, but paused when she turned her head towards me and sighed. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

“Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, El.”

“I’m not alone. Look at all these people,” I gestured around us. “Besides, I’m about to go and find Gale. Not sure what he’s up to, now that I think about it….”

After we finished our beers and Karlach strode across the lawn to join Dammon, I headed inside. The bar was lively, a Fist and a tiefling pouring drinks for anyone who wanted one, but not quite as crowded as outside. I supposed everyone wanted to see the sky without the shadow curse as much as possible. Among the few patrons was Gale, leaning on his elbows against the bar as he waited for a drink. Two drinks, actually.

“Are those both for you?” I teased as I slid into the space next to him. He was impeccably clean, clothes and all. He had either taken a bath already or used some spell of his devising. I felt even filthier in comparison.

“That, I am still deciding.” He kissed my forehead and handed me one of the goblets. “You were magnificent.”

“As were you.”

“We make a good team, then.”

“Are you… feeling okay? About your decision, I mean.”

“I will be,” he said. “I’m glad we’re still alive, of course. I’d choose you a thousand times over. I’m upset with myself for being so… willing to destroy myself and the people around me. But–” he took a gulp from his cup. “Tonight is for celebration. I can work through my emotions tomorrow.”

I placed my hand over his with a sad smile. I was trying my hardest to stay upright, my eyelids were beginning to fall involuntarily, my head threatening to do the same.

“Do you want me to run you a hot bath? Might be a good time for one, with everyone still celebrating.”

“That would be lovely,” I said. “But only if you can help me get up the stairs and take this bloody armor off.”

“Deal,” he smiled, offering me his arm.

In our group’s shared bedroom, Gale helped take off my armor, piece by piece, and added them to a pile of washing to be done. First the pauldrons, then the chest plate, and so on until I was only in my underclothes.

“I’ll go start the water,” he said as he walked to the washroom, turning to face me again at the door frame. “Do we have any fresh towels in here?”

“I have some on my bed. I’ll get them.”

I had placed a stack of folded towels on my bed days ago–my bed that I hadn’t been sleeping in. I’d been sleeping in Gale’s. The towels were untouched, still neatly folded where I left them. Only now, a small golden pouch sat atop them, tied with a green ribbon that also held a small scroll. I unrolled the parchment, the smallest hint of magic in my fingertips as I did, and read:

“My dearest Elspeth,

Words alone can never express how much you mean to me. Actions, perhaps, may let me get closer to the heart of it. I know not where our journey will take us. I feel it may be blasphemous to think about the future, but sometimes those fantasies are the very anchor to which I hoist my soul. When sleep is futile or all hope seems lost, I think of you. I imagine holding your hand as I show you around Waterdeep, showing you my favorite spots and learning which places will become yours. I see you curled up in front of the fire in the library, an open book discarded next to you as you sleep without a care in the world. I see a life with you–a normal life. I want that more than anything in the world.

Despite my waxing poetic about our future, this gift is simply that–a gift. I love you.

Yours always,

Gale”

Inside the pouch was Tessie’s ring. The crack had been soldered together with silver, leaving a subtle seam in its place, remnants of the molten metal’s shape before it dried. I looked up through the tears welling in my eyes to see Gale leaning against the door frame, scratching his beard and averting his eyes to the ground.

“I hope it’s okay,” he said. “I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries, and I know there are flaws, but Dammon and I–”

I bolted over to him, interrupting his rambling by pulling him into a deep kiss. I could feel the tension in his body melt away as he rested his hands on my waist. The steam from the bath enveloped us in a cloud of fresh rose and mint–where did he even get this soap?

“It’s perfect.” I embraced him, resting my head on his chest as he squeezed me back. “Thank you.”

“I’m so glad you approve,” he said. “I was worried I went too far, altering something so sentimental to you.”

“This means so much to me, Gale. You mean so much to me.” His eyes found my own,

glassy and emotional, juxtaposed against his upturned lips. “Thank you for choosing me. For staying here with me. I… don’t know if I could go on without you. The possibility of our future is the glue that keeps me together. I know it’s hard to talk about, considering everything, but Gale–I’m yours. I want to be yours forever. I want to wake up next to you every day without the lingering thought that it could be our last. To love you with my whole body and soul and declare it to the entire world.” I caressed his face, looking deep into his eyes. “You are so precious to me.”

My voice broke on the last sentence and teardrops stained the blue fabric of his shirt. He kissed me again and pulled me close.

“Sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream,” he murmured, forehead pressed to mine, pushing a section of loose hair behind my ear. “I don’t know how else I could have managed to get you to love me.”

“It’s not a dream,” I whispered into another kiss, a gentle one, lips light as air. “I love you. All you ever have to do is exist, and I’ll love you.”

He ran his hands down my shoulders, my arms, and back up again. I took his top lip between mine, my tongue gently moving into his mouth. He caressed the thin strap of my bra with the back of his fingers and gently pulled it down my shoulder, smirking.

“I have to get cleaned up first,” I whispered into his mouth.

“I can be patient.”

Once I was sunk to my neck in the hot water, Gale excused himself from the room.

“Relax, my love,” he said. “I’ll be back in just a few moments.”

The weight of my body dissipated as the heat worked its way into my sore muscles and aching bones. The fresh, soapy aroma, the steam, the twinkling lights Gale conjured across the ceiling of the dim, candlelit room–it felt like a luxury spa rather than a washroom in a nearly abandoned inn. Alone with my thoughts, images of the illithid colony flooded my mind’s eye. I kept remembering the tendons holding the place together, the bugbear dismembering bodies, the abject image of Ketheric Thorm himself…. I plunged my head under the water, which felt almost scalding hot on my face, and tried to clear the thoughts from my mind, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was working. I tried to cast a spell to calm my emotions, but my magic was spent.

Gale returned moments later with two large cups of ice cold water and a knowing smile on his face.

“I think we’ve both had enough alcohol for the night,” he said, sitting down on the floor beside the tub. “We’re already in for a rough morning after such a fight, and nursing a hangover won’t make it any easier.”

After gulping down the water, I began to wash. Gale insisted on washing my hair, his strong hands massaging circles into my scalp. It was enough to put me straight to sleep. Once my hair was rinsed and my body thoroughly cleaned of grime, Gale wrapped my shoulders in a towel as I stepped out of the tub.

“I have another surprise for you,” he said, kissing the pointed tip of my ear.

“Another? Gale, you spoil me,” I teased him and wrung my wet hair into the towel. He only held up a dangling keyring and grinned.

“I asked Jaheira for the private bedroom downstairs. It’s ours for the night.”

“You really know how to smooth talk your way into anything, don’t you?”

“She can hardly say no,” he said. “We just saved this place and killed her sworn enemy.”

I moved to pull on my nightclothes, but Gale stopped me with a gentle hand on my wrist. “No need to get dressed when I’ll just be taking everything off of you.”

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and he could see it, judging by the devilish grin that crossed his face.

“And how exactly am I supposed to get downstairs?”

One invisibility spell and a couple of arcane locks later, Gale and I were lying naked on top of the surprisingly soft duvet in the bedroom downstairs. A very faint steam rose from my skin in the cool air as I propped myself up on my elbows like a sphynx, hovering over Gale’s devoted, sleepy face as I played with his hair.

“You went through all this trouble just to fall asleep on me?” I teased as I watched his eyelids flutter shut.

“Your fingers running through my hair may as well be an enchanted lullaby,” he said before forcing his eyes back open. “In truth, I’m exhausted.”

“I know you are, love. So am I. We can just lie here if you want.”

With a hand on the back of my head, he pulled me close for a kiss.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered against my lips. “I want to show you that when I chose you, I meant it.”

A burst of energy ran through me with his words. I swung a leg over his body, straddling his hips as I knit my hands deep into his hair and pressed kisses into his neck. The musk of his skin was intoxicating, a warm, clean sweetness with a hint of something spicy underneath that was impossible to resist. I ran my tongue over the indented scar that trailed up his neck, sucking soft love marks down to his collarbone, savoring the salt of his skin.

He sighed with pleasure and trailed his hands down my body, gentle and deliberate–my skin an ancient carving, his fingertips an artist’s charcoal capturing its relief. I lowered my hips to match his, guiding him to me, movement taking over my body as I pressed myself into him, sliding his length through me again and again. His low moans grew guttural. He was perfect–he was everything. Exhausted as we were, I wanted nothing more than to take fully of him until the first hint of morning light.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed into my ear, pushing my damp hair over my shoulder for full access to my neck. I felt his lips start kissing beneath my jaw and move down my tattoo–over the rose, the leaves that climbed towards the center of my neck, and down to the thorny vines reaching towards my collarbone. He took his time, lingering on the dip of the bone to my chest before his hands on my waist pulled me up so that my breasts fell directly over his face. His hands–gods, his hands–were squeezing gently, fingers caressing over the peaks before doing the same with his tongue.

Gale’s breaths became quicker and he moaned into my skin as I pleasured myself with him, grinding my clit over the ridges of his cock, slick now with my desire. I was lost in him. My face was buried in his neck, my hips becoming the only alert part of my body. All the thoughts and worries in my head had given way to the carnal need I had for him, the ache I felt deep in my core as I looked upon his face. His neck was arched over the pillow, pushing his chin towards the ceiling as exhales and low moans escaped from his lips, the apex of his throat pulsing with each sound. The orb glowed a bright violet from the center of his chest and up his neck. A faint light even could even be seen beneath the skin of his face where the orb’s tendrils reached towards his eye.

Gods, I loved this man. The curve of his lips when he smiled, the stray hairs that fell in front of his face no matter how many times he pushed them back, the freckle on his temple–I was certain there had never been a more exquisite man to walk the face of Toril.

As if he could feel me staring, he opened his eyes and began to sit up, holding my waist as he moved me into his lap.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” he asked with a smile, and I nodded as I fervently kissed every inch of his face. “Let me take over, dearest. It was my idea, after all.”

“You said you were tired,” I said between kisses.

“Mm… not anymore” he mumbled while my lips trailed over his. “Turn around.”

I did as he said. Still upright on my knees, eager hands found my waist as Gale pressed our bodies together and kissed the back of my neck and shoulders, his warm breath sending chills down my spine. One of his hands grabbed my breast while the other dropped between my legs. He ran a feather-light finger through the center, barely parting me. My body twitched in anticipation of his touch, but he only repeated the motion, softly chuckling into my shoulder.

“Gale,” I begged. “Please.”

I expected him to continue teasing me until I was pleading, but, to my surprise, he parted me with two fingers, swirling slow circles around my clit. My hips jerked of their own accord against his movements, and I could feel the climax growing inside me, threatening to come to the surface. I placed my hand on top of his, pulling it away.

“Not ready yet,” was all I managed to say, language suddenly nonexistent in my brain.

“Okay, love.” Gale ran both hands down my sides and over my thighs, slowly and deliberately, until I was begging for him again.

He slipped a hand between my legs from behind and pumped his long fingers into me. The breath hitched in my throat as I cried out, his fingers moving in and out at a sensual pace, eager but reveling in the moment. There was no way I could stay upright, so I lowered onto my elbows, positioning myself for him, watching him as best I could from over my shoulder as he continued.

“My beautiful girl,” he said with awe as he took in the sight of me spread fully before him. He removed his fingers from me, glistening wet, and sucked them into his mouth, humming in ecstasy, eyes rolled back like he was savoring a luxury meal. “How did I get so lucky?”

Rhetorical question or not, I had no time to answer before he pulled my hips closer to him and sank himself into me slowly. We moaned simultaneously, his cock pushing deeper until I had taken all of him. His first thrusts were tender, each of us relishing in every ridge, every sensation of each others’ bodies. An involuntary groan escaped my mouth each time he plunged into me, and I was thanking the gods that people were still celebrating outside the inn.

As much as I was enjoying the pure bliss of his unhurried pace, my body was begging for him to take me, all of me, with wild abandon. I found his rhythm, my hips bouncing along with his thrusting until he was slamming into me, my cries feral, his panting loud between moans. Gale pressed me into the mattress with a strong, loving hand on my back before taking full control and pounding into me, all caution gone, carnal desire overtaking him. I could feel sweat beginning to dampen his skin as he panted, huffing with exertion, grunting and moaning and losing himself in the moment. After several minutes of vigorous pounding, his pace began to slow, and he sank back to his knees. I rolled over to face him.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, catching his breath, orb pulsing with the beat of his heart. “I got carried away.”

“Never apologize.” I crawled towards him, gently pushing him onto his back. “I’m yours,” I whispered in his ear. “You can have me however you’d like.”

“Is that so?” he grinned and I nodded, dropping a kiss to his lips. “Then come here.”

His hands pressed into my thighs as he pulled me to kneel over his face, his tongue lapping and flicking as I held onto the headboard and tried to muffle the whimpering cries escaping my lips. My hips bucked beneath me, grinding against his face, dizzy with ecstasy and anticipation.

“Can’t… Gale… going to–”

The tight pressure in my core sprung loose. I cried out, gods only know how loud, as Gale held my thighs in place and drank from me deeply as I came. His own low moans vibrated against my already-spasming flesh, tongue still lapping against me as the wave of bliss began to subside and my limbs became impossibly heavy. Hypersensitivity made me squirm and whimper.

“Gale!” I pleaded between sharp gasps and yelps. He finally let go of my legs, a desperate desire on his glistening face when he emerged.

In one swift movement he had me on my back with a leg over his shoulder. I caught only a glimpse of his sculpted cock, stiff and flushed, before he thrust inside of me. His eyes roamed over my body, but settled on the dripping valley between my legs where he watched as he fucked me, biting his lip in concentration.

I caressed his face, and he kissed the inside of my palm before melting into me with all his weight as he took everything he needed from me. Sweat coated his back where my legs wrapped around his hips. I held him close to me, his jagged breathing loud in my ears and hot on my neck. Wild thrusts took over his body until he unraveled, panting and gasping and crying out until he was spent. He collapsed on top of me and I hugged him close, his chest heaving against mine as we caught our breath.

“I love you,” I whispered, kissing his temple. “Thank you for choosing to stay. For choosing me.”

Gale let out a long sigh before rolling onto the bed beside me and lacing his fingers through mine. “I love you, El. Although the word ‘love’ doesn’t feel like enough when it comes to my feelings for you,” he said, kissing my hand. “Unfortunately, my brain and body are currently too far gone to find a suitable alternative.”

I laughed and snuggled into his side. I felt safe. Secure. I knew Gale felt the same. We had no need to hide any parts of ourselves, no matter how flawed. We held each other as sleep closed in, our souls as bare as our bodies.

#my writing #gale fic #bg3 fic #gale x oc #gale x tav #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale fanfic #elspeth #galspeth #gale

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