#this is not the break i want please let me recover quickly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bradshawssugarbaby · 1 month

Text

Got My Mind Set On You - Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: I know I said fluff, but somehow I got to spicy stuff instead. Oops.

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

content/warnings: suggested smut.

word count: 1.7k

Jake Seresin leaned casually against the rustic exposed wooden beam of the dimly lit bar, his gaze fixed on you as you shared a moment of laughter with your friends across the room. With the air of someone who knew they were being watched, he flicked another dart effortlessly towards the board, the satisfying thud of it hitting the bullseye punctuating the room. He took a slow sip of his beer, the corner of his lips curling into a self-assured smirk as his friends marveled at his accuracy.

Javy couldn't help but prod at Jake's seemingly supernatural dart-throwing abilities. "How do you do it, man? You never even look at the board."

Jake chuckled, tapping the side of his temple with his index finger. "Photographic memory, my friend. I've got every angle mapped out up here," he said with a grin, never once breaking his gaze from you.

Bradley, ever the skeptic, scoffed from the sidelines. "Oh, please. Anyone can get lucky tossing darts at a board."

A challenge hung heavy in the air as Jake raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Care to put that theory to the test, Bradshaw?"

Bradley, never one to back down, accepted with a lazy smirk. "Fine. But don't blame me if your girl decides she wants a more skilled pilot."

"Bring it on," Jake replied, his confidence unwavering.

With practiced ease, Bradley sent his first dart flying, hitting the bullseye just as he predicted. Jake's expression remained cool, but there was a flicker of admiration in his eyes as Bradley repeated the feat with his second shot. Bullseye again.

Jake's smirk faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, raising his pint glass towards the dartboard. "You can't do it a third time."

Bradley's competitive spirit flared as he confidently launched his final dart, only to miss the mark by a fraction of an inch. He turned to Jake, a hint of defiance in his eyes as he admitted defeat.

Jake couldn't resist a playful jab. "Not quite perfect, Bradley."

But any teasing was forgotten as you appeared beside him, your touch warm on his shoulder. "Hey there, sugar," Jake greeted you with a smile. "See me get a perfect streak?" Jake purposefully drawled out the word ‘perfect’, resulting in a dramatic eyeroll from Bradley.

Jake's smile softened as he wrapped an arm around you, his gaze never straying far from yours. You grinned as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, nodding your head as you spoke. “Sure did, honey. You did great!”, you gushed.

“I am great, darlin’, you know that.”

Bradley groaned and rolled his eyes before downing the rest of his beer. With an exaggerated sigh, he shook his head, holding his empty glass up to you and the others before speaking.

“Anyone down for another round? I’ll buy.”

You chuckled at Bradley's offer, exchanging knowing glances with Jake before nodding in agreement. "I could go for another," you said with a grin, feeling Jake's arm tighten slightly around your waist.

“Sure, thanks man,” Jake started, handing Bradley his empty glass, “After, why don’t we rematch? We can switch to the pool table, if you guys would rather, that way you might actually have a chance at beating me.”

Bradley scoffed and shook his head. “Fine, you’re on.”

Javy, always up for a good time, eagerly agreed. "I'm in. Let's see if lightning strikes twice for old Bradshaw here."

Bradley shot Javy a mock glare before laughing, his competitive streak undeterred. "We'll see about that," he retorted, already heading towards the bar to order everyone’s drinks.

As Bradley disappeared into the crowd, you leaned into Jake's side, relishing in the warmth of his presence. The soft buzz of conversation and clinking glasses enveloped you, creating a comforting backdrop to the evening.

"You know, I think Bradley's just jealous," you whispered teasingly, tilting your head up to meet Jake's gaze.

Jake chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you. "Can you blame him?" he replied, his voice low and playful. "After all, he's got to compete with the best."

You rolled your eyes affectionately, swatting his chest playfully. "Smooth talker," you teased, but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Besides all that, I’ve got the best girl, so really, poor Bradley didn’t stand a chance, did he?” Jake whispered as he leaned into your ear, his green eyes fixed on yours as he planted a soft kiss on your lips.

“The best girl, huh?” You mused, raising an eyebrow, “That’s a new one for me.”

“Mhmm,” Jake hummed as he gave you a playful tap on the nose with his index finger. “You better get used to it, honey.”

As you all rounded the pool table, gathering into your teams, Bradley furrowed his brow as he gestured to you and Jake as Jake kept you close to him for his team.

“Oh no you don’t loverboy.” Bradley chided, shaking his head, “She’s on my team. Together you two’ll just end up getting handsy on the pool table and make us all lose our lunch.”

“He’s got a point there, don’t he?” Jake shrugged as he conceded, letting go of his protective, loving grip on your waist.

You watched as Bradley lined up to take his shot. Observing his form carefully, you tried to make mental notes so you could match his game - you weren’t the greatest at pool, Jake usually used teaching you as an excuse to put his hands all over you, not that you complained. It just resulted in some incredibly short lessons in pool, and some playful sessions in the bed of his Ford F-150.

Bradley leaned in close to your ear, whispering softly as he came up with a game strategy. “How well can you accidentally distract Jake?”

“Oh, easy,” you responded with confidence, nodding your head slightly as your gaze fixated on Jake, who was lining his pool cue up for his turn.

“Perfect, do your thing.”

You sipped your cocktail and fiddled with the straw, your lips encircling the tip in a way that you knew Jake would interpret as suggestive. Sure enough, as soon as Jake looked up at you, sea-green eyes locked in a gaze at your mouth as it played with the end of your straw, he missed his shot, causing the cue ball to bounce off the edge of the table, not striking anything in its path. Jake straightened his posture, raising an eyebrow at you as you set your glass down to take your own shot. Bradley smirked from behind his beer bottle, admiring your technique for riling Jake up better than any amount of trash talk ever could.

During Jake’s next turn, you shoved your glass into Bradley’s open hand, before fiddling and unbuttoning the top two buttons of your plaid shirt, exposing just enough cleavage to have Jake’s mind wandering. Once again, as soon as Jake caught a glimpse of you, he missed his shot, shaking his head and grumbling to himself as Javy joked about him being off his game.

“I’m not off my game. Everyone has one off game.”

“Just admit it, Jake, you’re not as good at pool as they are. Bradley’s got you beat.”

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes again, before leaning over to take his next shot, trying to follow up after you sink one of the balls into the pocket, eliciting a high-five and a cheer from Bradley. As the game progressed, Jake caught on to your little game. His cheeks blushed when you whispered what you wanted him to do to you later that evening, he had to clear his throat to cover the involuntary moan that threatened to escape his mouth when your hand caressed his bicep, and he had to position himself carefully behind the pool table while he tried to focus his mind on anything other than the mental image you put in his head when you described what kind of underwear you were wearing under your skirt.

After losing another round, Jake felt a simmering frustration bubbling beneath his skin, an insistent urge gnawing at him with every passing moment. He clenched his jaw, struggling to rein in the primal desires coursing through him. All he could think about was laying you down on the smooth surface of the pool table, indulging in the raw passion that pulsed between you. But he knew he couldn't act on those impulses, not here, not now.

Instead, he tossed the pool cue down with an uncharacteristic huff, the weight of his competitive nature hanging heavy in the air. His typically composed demeanor faltered, a rare glimpse of vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he turned away. You exchanged a knowing glance with Bradley, silently acknowledging the tension that hung between you all, before following Jake's retreating figure outside.

The night air enveloped you like a thick blanket as you stepped out of the dimly lit bar, the humidity clinging to your skin like a second layer. Concern etched across your features, you approached Jake cautiously, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

"Jake?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as you closed the distance between you.

"Mhmm?" His response was gruff, his body tense as he leaned against the side of his truck, the muscles in his arms flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"Are you alright?" you asked softly, furrowing your brow with worry. "I wasn’t trying to be a dick—Bradley and I just thought it’d be funny if I, you know, distracted you a little."

Jake chuckled, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes as he turned to face you. "I'm not mad."

"You aren’t?" Relief flooded through you, easing the tension in your shoulders.

"Of course not," he reassured you, his gaze softening as he reached out to pull you into his embrace. "I mean, you got me good, I’ll give you that."

"I did?" A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, grateful for his understanding.

"Sure did, Sugar." Jake's smirk was equal parts wicked and enticing, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But now it’s my turn to get you back." His words hung in the air like a promise, igniting a fire in your veins as you met his gaze with a playful challenge of your own.

526 notes · View notes

iambilliejeanok · 2 months

Text

🩷Lust and Tradition🩷

Summary: Gojo Satoru finds himself obsessing over his arranged wife’s innocence. He ends up finding himself doing things to her that even frightens him at times. Y/n who never even knew what sex was until she married Satoru, must now navigate how she should manage her own uncontrollable lust to please her husband, who simply has no mercy when it comes to having her obey him and his strange desires. How can she continue to behave like a lady when he makes her feel like a whore at times and just how long can Satoru play this out until he finally manages to break her.

Warnings: 18+, no minors please, very explicit, shameless smut, nsfw, cunnilingus, oral sex, tongue fucking, vaginal fingering, mentions of vaginal and anal penetration, dacryphillia, spanking, power play, arranged marriage, nipple play, kinky, edging, smut from the beginning to the end.

Gojo Satoru is a man who admires tradition and order. He’s excited to have a wife now, even though you were chosen for him, he still managed to fall for you rather quickly, especially because he finds himself obsessing over your innocence. Your family had groomed you into being a lady perfect for just him. Your favorite color, food, hobbies and abilities were all manipulated to whatever it was that he preferred, all in hopes that the Gojo clan would choose you of all the beautiful women who were also hopeful to marry him. The day finally came and your family praised you more than you ever heard them in front of his elders and Satoru loved everything they had to say about you, but for some reason or another, it was only one piece of information that really stuck with him. You’re a virgin. You’ve never even kissed a boy and the thought of it drove him absolutely crazy. A year into your marriage and you’re fully aware of just how insane he is. He always strays away from penetrating your vagina because he wants to hold on that for as long as possible. If he’s going to take away your innocence and ruin your tight little holes, you’re going to have to beg him for it and if you’re lucky, and he feels convinced, he might give in and grace you with the pleasure of his thick girth tearing you up while you claw cry and scream for him, but he won’t make it easy for you. Only a woman who can entertain his sick and twisted kink for however long he desired can have the pleasure of having his dick anywhere inside of them and since you are his wife, this is going to have to be your fate. Unfortunately for you, the day hasn’t come yet and I say unfortunately because savoring your innocence doesn’t necessarily mean you’re not getting any sexual pleasure. Trust me, he will certainly ensure that you’re getting a lot, even more than what you want sometimes, but once everything is over and done with and you’re face is burried against his warm chest, stifling your moans while trying to recover from the pleasure he let on you, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit unsatisfied. Your vagina is still aching for him, and you can feel it burning so hot as you fantasize of finally having his warm, thick cock massage those aches away. You don’t care about just how painful it might be, you’re too horny to worry about any pain and would happily take on whatever pain you might feel in the name of just feeling him inside your most intimate part.

You squirm against him after those sessions of “innocent pleasure”, as he calls it, that he graces you with when he’s in a good mood and he always notices your uncontrollable lust. He will pretend he doesn’t mind it, but you know he does and you’ll pay for it soon, because despite he’s own pervertedness, he is a traditional man in every sense of the word and will not hesitate to give his wife a decent spanking for her indecency and impure thoughts. The mornings will go on as usual and you’ll start them by waking up before him and preparing his clothing for the day and some breakfast too, unless he decides to start off your mornings by indulging himself with your body. He confuses you sometimes, because he strongly forbids you from entertaining any “filthy” thoughts of him touching you and after a year of being his wife, you still struggle to understand why you’re not allowed to have him how you want to. Afterall, he’s your husband and you are his wife, but according to tradition, all you can do is listen to him and never disobey. So even after he violates your entire body, expect for you vagina, in a way that is most delicious and pleasurable and drives you to tears at times, you cannot question why he doesn’t seal the deal and finally make you his. He leaves after breakfast to work and you’re left feeling like you’re burning at the stake with lust after he took you on the table once again this morning. He does this often and you’re afraid you really might loose it sometime.

The evenings are more intense than the mornings and last much longer and each night you swear you might lose your mind, Satoru taking pleasure in sucking on your nipples. He could do this for hours, he does often and will make you cry just from this, your nipples so sensitive from his prolonged sucking and squeezing. You jump and whimper with every nip he gives your perky buds, trembling on his lap as you cum, despite how painful it gets and you’re too timid to ask him to stop, biting your lip hard yet still failing to stifle your whining and whimpering, gripping his hair without care of causing him pain and your panties are soaked by the time he finally decides to move on.

After ridding you of your last piece of clothing, he places you down whoever he’s taking you, and sometimes, opts to kneel in between your legs just to torture you all the more. He spreads your folds apart so wide that you can’t help but squirm with desire, your vagina aching so intensely that it hurts more than you can bare, but when you voice this to him, he tells you the same thing every time, that he will kiss it better and the ache will go away, which it never does, you know you need him deep inside of you, you need his thick cock to caress and massage you in place his kisses won’t reach, and it frustrates you to tears that he doesn’t give you just that.

You lose yourself as he sucks and slurps on your clit, and if you’re lucky, he’ll lap the entrance of your achy hole, Satoru completely lost in the taste of your arousal and you’ll use this opportunity to grind your hips against his face harder, but to no avail, since he pulls back. Sometimes you’ll feel his tongue penetrate just the entrance before he goes back to sucking on your clit, and you can’t stop yourself from whining and whimpering. You know how good it feels to have him tongue fuck you, since he reserves for you that much relief on special occasions. He once fingered your achy vagina on your birthday, deep and hard. You came so hard and so much that day that you cried, and he had to hold you tight until you calmed down. You hold onto that memory dearly and you’ve never wanted your birthday to come sooner, hoping that he’ll give you that same experience again, but until then, all you get is his hot mouth in your clit, sucking you into a fit of orgasms so intense they make you violently shake and shiver. While he’s eating you out, you try and remember how his fingers felt inside of you, but it’s been so long that the memory fades a little with every passing day. You can still remember the delicious pain of the stretch of his middle and ring finger when he first shoved them into you and you’ve been craving to feel that ever since. You remember how they felt stroking your walls. You immediately reacted, holding onto him like your life depended on it as you cried out in pleasure right in his face. He makes you squirt often from simply eating you out, but his fingers inside of you made you squirt harder and more relentlessly, you came at his will and couldn’t control it and the way he spoke to you, coupled with his never ending thrusting digits drove you to a magical bliss you could never forget.

“Its not right for you to behave this way sweetheart. It’s unladylike and impure. I married a pure lady and I expect you to remain this way. That’s why I have to do this, so you don’t give in to this impurity. Please understand my love”, he says to you as he holds you tight in his arms after spanking you particularly hard, hushing you from crying and wetting his shirt. “B-but for h-how l-long?”, you ask in stuttered breaths. “Until I see fit”, he immediately answers, looking down at you with disapproval in his gorgeous cloudy, blue eyes and you quickly hide your face in his chest again crying even harder, his arms squeezing you tighter. Maybe if he actually made love to you with his dick like every other normal husband out there, you wouldn’t be such a horny mess and therefore, he wouldn’t have to spank you like this. You could even settle for his fingers. You just needed him inside of you.

Despite your burning and sensitive skin from being spanked good, he still spreads your cheeks apart to eat your little hole out the way you wish he’d eat out your vagina. You might whimper from the pain of his big hands gripping your sensitive skin to keep you open, but when his tongue, that you love so much, penetrates your tighter hole, you forget about the pain, scooting back onto him in hopes that he’ll go deeper, and for this hole, he does just what you need him to, shoving his tongue as deep as it can go inside of you, with a rhythm hard enough to make you cum so good you have to try to crawl away from him. He doesn’t let you though and holds you in place as he continues to slurp and suck the rest of you, prolonging your orgasm until your begging him for a break. You love it when he eats your ass out. You love everything he does to you, and just wish he’d finally fuck you. You’d even let him fuck you in both holes and sometimes when you really really feel yourself on the brink on insanity, you promise him you won’t fuss and whine or complain if he does fuck you. He can fuck you as hard as he wants and you’ll take it, begging and pleading for him to make love to you and the longer you talk like that the more furious he gets, wrapping his hand around your neck in frustration. It takes him a moment to calm himself down, because when you beg him like an ill mannered whore, it angers him enough that he despreslty does want to fuck you. Fuck you until you’ll shut up and not ask for him like this again. You truly have balls to speak such filthy words to him and it’s times like this when the spankings leave you sobbing in his arms.

Please understand, he’s just obsessed with your purity and wants to stretched it out for as long as he desires, restricting himself to what he can do with the rest of your beautiful body and despite the teary meltdown you have after a punishment, you still thoroughly enjoy everything he does to you and look forward to it at every passing moment, especially when he holds and comforts you until you stop crying. You’re too ashamed to confide in any of your sisters or friends about your sexual feelings or even about what you’re experiencing, afraid that he will grow upset with you sharing such intimate details of your commitment to him with others. And he’s not interested in sharing his own dark desires with his peers, because he knows he’s fucked up in this regard. Other men take pleasure in sleeping with their wives, and even though he longs to feel that hot, liquidy, virgin tightness swallow him deep inside of you way more than you could ever imagine, he won’t allow himself to fuck you, becauses he’s much too eager to see you break down until you’re really behaving otherwise from how you were raised. only then will he finally fuck your, as a reward for allowing him to bring you to this point and he will make sure that it will feel better than his two fingers on your birthdays or his tongue that he fucks both your holes with when he’s feeling generous.You see, he’s had his eye on you long before his marriage date was even set and already discussed with his elders that it would be you and no one else. Since he first laid eyes on you until now, he grew an unatural, sick desire to break you until you were nothing near what your parents raised just for him. His desire scared him sometimes too, but it turned him on to a point where he’d come in his pants just thinking about it and the first time it happened, is when he knew he had to accept it.

You listen to your friends talk about their own experiences and it’s always a mission for you to hold your tongue, because even the way you feel is only for him and no one else to know. From all the squirming you do under extreme desire from not feeling satisfied with just his tongue work after he plays around with you, he leaves you with a good spanking before heading out to work. Bending you over his knee at the dinner table, or holding you close against him in the bathroom before he hops in the bathtub for you to wash him, generously showering each of your cheeks with hard smacks, your ass jiggling from the force, turning him on all over again as you cling to him, trying not to make too much noise from the fiery sting his hands cause you. Your ass never gets a break, because he does this to you almost every single day and each day feels ten times worse than the day before. He’ll give you a long break from his merciless punishments sometimes for your own relief of course. He’s not a heartless monster. He’s simply a man of tradition and takes disciplining his wife seriously, to “keep you pure and innocent just for him”, so even besides your shame, your fear towards him is freshly awakened after he spanks you, so you keep your mouth shut, and quietly go on about your day, patiently waiting for him to come back home to somewhat sedate the angry ache between your legs, silently praying to the gods that he might allow you to experience him fully tonight because you just don’t know how much longer you can go without doing something you might deeply regret. He can’t help but think about you wherever he goes, and today, he’s been smiling to himself about how much of a good girl you’ve been. He always forgives you for behaving like a whore, after all, he knows just how tough this is for you, it’s hard for him too. He’s thinking of surprising you with a nice dinner he plans on cooking himself and maybe he’ll fuck you just how you want him to, but only in your tight little asshole, and you’re going to endure it, just like you promised him you would.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen imagines #jujustu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujustu gojo #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojou satoru x reader

677 notes · View notes

stevenssacrab · 4 months

Text

I Can't Wait

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

Summary: You come home tired after an exhausting mission and just want to shower and go to bed, but Natasha has other ideas.

Rating: 18+ smut (minors, do not interact)

Warnings: Sub reader, soft dom Natasha, fingering, mommy kink (i'm not sorry), oral (female receiving), hair pulling, aftercare?

Word Count: 2k

a/n: Had to take a break while I recovered but I'm back baby! This is my 2nd, 2,000 word fic! I had tons of fun writing this one, hope everyone enjoys.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ✧ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ*

You sigh, push the key through the keyhole, and open your door. This week's mission really pushed you past your breaking point, and you just wanted to get into a hot shower and wash away all the sweat and grime that had built up; you close the door behind you and sigh for the umpteenth time, tossing your keys haphazardly on the counter.

"I'm home," you exhale, kicking off your boots and walked toward your room; you barely make it through the threshold when Natasha pins you against the wall, devouring your lips; you groan, hands grasping at her hair.

"I've missed you, baby; you smell so good," Natasha uttered between kisses, inhaling your scent; she's always had this primal attraction to your natural scent; she slid her thigh in between your legs, grinding against your core, you whimper against her lips, shamelessly grinding into her thigh, she licks at your lips, silently asking permission to explore, you obliged, opening your mouth, tasting the vanilla ice cream off her tongue.

"Wait, I have to shower; I smell so bad," you whined, throwing your head back in an exasperated groan. Natasha chuckles and steps aside, snickering at the situation's absurdity.

"Don't take too long, or I'll start without you," Natasha teases playfully, choosing to lie on the bed in the meantime; you briskly walk into the bathroom, quickly shedding your clothes. Natasha's not one to make empty promises; the water is like heaven against your aching muscles, and you groan gently; you squeeze shampoo into your palm and spread it in your hair, firmly massaging your scalp, and then rinse; you suddenly feel a pair of arms wrap around you.

"Let me help you, baby," Natasha whispered hotly into your ear, squeezing body wash onto your loofa and lathering; she started at your arms, softly kneading the soap into your damp skin; you mewl into her touch, her soft hands caressing your aching muscles, rubbing her soapy hands all over your body, hugging you from behind, pawing at your tits and pinching the erect buds roughly, while suckling on your neck, you lean against her and tilt your head, giving her more space to explore, and she does, eagerly.

"Please," you beg; Natasha chuckles, biting down on your shoulder, running her middle finger through your pussy lips; you whine loudly, desperate for more.

"Beg for more, baby," she coos softly, nibbling your ear gently, hands palming your ass; you let out a high-pitched moan.

"Please, more, I need you; I'll be a good girl, I promise," you whined loudly, gripping her hand and placing it on your aching pussy, "please, I'll do anything," you keened delicately, spreading your legs, Natasha groans and obliges, expertly rubbing circles into your swollen clit, you moan loudly, resting your head on her shoulder.

"Does that feel good, baby? Do you like it when I touch you here?" she murmured in your ear, "Yes, I love it," you sobbed, drunk off her fingers, bucking into her hand boldly. Natasha gently turned your head, kissing you slowly, swallowing every whine and moan that spilled out of you; she gently slapped your sensitive clit, smiling when you gasped loudly.

“More; I need more, please,” you pleaded desperately against her lips; she only smiled, relishing how easy it is to get you riled up.

“Anything for you, my princess,” she hums, fingers playfully circling your hole, teasing you further; you whine and buck your hips forward eagerly; she snickered at your desperation, and she lifted two fingers to your mouth; you take them in without a word, gliding your velvet tongue over her digits, suckling harshly as her other hand circles your clit, she pulls her fingers out, slowly sliding one inside, you moan loudly, pushing down onto her finger, desperate for more, pumping her finger in and out agonizingly slow, you whine lustily, hopelessly trying to bounce on her finger but she pulls out entirely.

“Ah ah,” she disapproves, lowering her hand once again, this time sliding in two fingers; you throw your head back and moan thunderously, “Yes, just like that,” you babble out; she pumps her fingers in and out, curling her fingers in a come hither motion, hitting your sweet spot exactly, you mewl loudly, legs feeling like jelly, Natasha holds you up easily, she angles her fingers, hitting it with every thrust, you feel that familiar twist in your stomach, you know if she keeps going like this you won’t last long, you try to express that your close but your brain can’t think straight all that comes out is high-pitched moans, growing louder and louder by the second.

“I-I,” you blurt out, desperately trying to warn her.

“Yes, baby?” She coos, thrusting her fingers faster. She knows you are close, but she wants to hear you say it; she wants to see if you can do it; she likes to watch you short-circuit from the pleasure, to be cruel and add to your undoing; she sucks and bites at your neck, you let out a moan so deep it comes from your throat.

“Nat, I’m, oh god,” you sob; you look down and watch with your mouth ajar, her fingers pumping into you with such speed that you don’t know how you’ve made it this far.

“Are you close, baby? Do you wanna cum on my fingers?” She asks mockingly, thrusting her fingers particularly hard, punctuating each word with a hit to your g-spot; you’re past the high-pitched whines and moans, past trying to stay quiet for the neighbor's sake; all that comes out of you are throaty moans, and screams.

“Yes, mommy! Please let me cum on your fingers; I’m so close,” you cry, tears streaming down your face, simply because she loves to watch you suffer; she lifts her hand and rolls your nipple in between her thumb and index finger, and you scream, and when you thought she couldn’t go faster, she picks up the pace, lowering her hand to play with your clit at the perfect pace.

“Cum on my fingers, baby, let me hear you,” she whispers hotly in your ear, panting; you cum on her fingers, throwing your head back, moan ripping out of you, your vision goes white, and all you hear is ringing in your ears, you feel your walls spasming around her fingers, fucking you through your high, she slowly pulls out her fingers, you lift off her and turn around and stare at her, watching her closely, she puts her two fingers in her mouth, moaning, savoring your delicious taste, eyes locked on yours, you stare, body buzzing that post orgasm feel, she pulls them out with a pop, and it snaps something within you, you push her back against the cool tile wall, you drop to your knees, she chuckles.

“So eager to please,” she hums proudly, stroking your hair lovingly; you waste no time and dive in, your tongue expertly finding her clit, kitten licking it, your eyes watching her; she sighs contently, hand resting on the top of your head, you lift your fingers to her mouth, as she had done before, and she opens her mouth obediently, accepting your fingers, coating them and sucking them softly, you latch onto her clit, catching her off guard, with your fingers still in her mouth she moans gently, you pull them out and tease her hole, slowly push in one finger, pumping excruciatingly slowly, she pressed her lips together trying to suppress her moans, she’s been known to repress how good you make her feel, she wants you to earn her sweet sounds, you sit back on your heels for a better angle, you fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly made for each other, you suckle gently on her clit, mixing between, licking and gently running your teeth along her bud, her face relaxed, she lazily ruts herself against your silk tongue, you moan sending vibrations through her body, gasping softly, gripping your hair gently, you moan again, relishing the delicious sting at your scalp, your hands glide up her legs and to her ass, pawing aggressively against her supple skin, you use your grip as leverage and help her grind down on your tongue, you flick your tongue delectably slow, treasuring the taste, watching her face contort in pleasure, her eyes are closed, her mouth hangs open, she’s basking in it all, you give her ass a smack, signaling her to open her eyes and watch you work away, she watches, bottom lip captured by her teeth, even still she’s holding back, you slide a 2nd finger in, curling your fingers, in search of her bundle of nerves, she moans quietly, watching your fingers disappear inside her, you feel the familiar texture of her spot, you know the feeling all to well, and push your fingers against it slowly, she gasps loudly, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Holy shit,” she blinks rapidly, eyes seeing stars, “don’t stop,” she pleads, chasing that feeling again; you smile; it’s too easy to get her worked up; she likes to act as if it’s not; but you’ve spent a lot of time exploring all her sweet spots and discovering what makes her tick, you curl your fingers once again, brushing against the bundle of nerves, she mewls loudly, her resolve long gone, she throws her head back against the tile, you add the third and final finger, she yelps, eyes wide watching in disbelief, you slide in with ease, curling all three fingers exactly where she wants it, she opens her mouth in a silent scream, her legs trembling violently, she lets out a loud gasp, followed by a cry.

“Oh god, yes,” she weeps, her hands gripping your shoulders, trying desperately to stay upright. Still, her legs feel like they’ll give out at any moment, “Just like that, baby, yes,” she babbles out; you thrust your fingers, hitting the perfect spot every time; you lean forward and lightly lick her clit; earning a scream from Natasha, she grips your hair and pushes you against her pussy, you latch around her clit and suck mercilessly, you can tell she's close, she moans so loud they bounce off the tile, water running cold, you grab her right leg and throw it over your shoulder, eliciting a moan so deep it pains her, her hands buried in your hair, using it as leverage to fuck herself into your face.

"Cum for me, baby," you say quickly, reattaching yourself to her clit, sucking ruthlessly; she gasps loudly and cums on your fingers, body shaking vigorously, eyes squeezed shut, panting loudly; you slowly fuck her through the high; she whimpers when it's too much, you chuckle slightly and pull out, your legs feel numb, you have trouble standing, Natasha hugs you and pulls you up, kissing you tenderly, holding you sweetly, caressing your back and shoulders, almost thanking you, you draw mindless patterns into her wet skin, soothing her muscles, kiss her lazily, hand hidden in her hair, she breaks the kiss and reaches for conditioner and squirts some in her palm, gently massaging it through your hair, you hum, basking in her fingers gingerly rubbing your scalp, running her hands delicately through the strains, she walks you back into the water, you gasp; all the hot water is gone, cold water envelops your body, you shiver, pulling Natasha closer for warmth, she soothingly rinses the conditioner out of your hair, and turns off the water, Natasha grabs the towel and dries you off, carefully patting your more sensitive parts, she helps you step into your underwear, legs still feeling a little wobbly, you support yourself on her shoulders as you step in, she playfully smacks the band against your hip, you laugh and playfully hit her arm, next she grabs your oversized shirt and pulls it over your head, you return the favor and pat Natasha's skin dry, carefully wrapping her hair in the towel, she grabs your hand and leads you to the bedroom, reaching for a fresh pair of panties, and steps into them, pulling an oversized shirt over her head, you both crawl into your warm bed and cuddle for warmth against the cold winter air,

"Goodnight, Y/N," she said lovingly, pulling you closer. You sighed happily, "Goodnight," you whispered and blissfully fell asleep in her arms.

801 notes · View notes

zeezelweazel · 5 months

Text

Alexia Putellas| Wrong place wrong time|

______________________________________

Tumblr decided to be a pain in the ass again and for some reason didn't let me edit my drafts so I'm creating new ones. Sorry to all the people that requested something and it got lost in my drafts, blame Tumblr.

Pt 2 here → With all the time in the world

TW: semi public sex, oral (Alexia receiving), dirty talk

____________________________________________________

Training was especially tiring today, given that you've just came back from national break. But you have a champion's league game in a few days. You feel Ingrid patting your shoulder as she gives you a smile that screams 'I know, me too'. You continue sipping on your water as you make small talk with the tall Norwegian.

After a few minutes training is pronounced over and you groan as you're finally able to take of your sweaty clothing. You throw your shirt somewhere in the training room, making a note to pick it up later, and you search through your bag for a clean shirt. When you find your favourite sweatshirt that you stole from Alexia's closet you move to throw your sweaty shirt in the training bag. Before you're able to put on the fresh garment a hand roughly pulls you back. You're met with Alexia's dark eyes but have no time to question anything before the captain pulls you away.

"Alexia, hey! I still don't even have my shirt on! Where are we even-"

Suddenly Alexia pushed you to the nearest wall and placed a hot needy kiss on your lips. You quickly recovered from your initial shock and kissed back gripping Alexia's hips and pulling her closer to you. The blonde whimpered against your lips and started grinding her hips up against you, without being able to find the much needed friction she was hoping for. Oh, so that's what this is about.

You push Alexia back and smirk when she whines at the loss. You normally love to tease her when she gets all needy like this but there's no time now. You're both still standing in the hallway, were anyone could walk by and see you still topples. You mirror her action from before and pull Alexia with you, opening a random door and closing it behind you. It was a storage room, probably. You didn't have any time to look around because the moment the door closed you pushed Alexia against it.

She whimpered against your lips when you pushed your tongue inside her mouth. She tried to keep up but you were practically devouring her. After a few seconds you got impatient and with a final bite to her lower lip you moved away and slightly lower to nip at her earlobe. Alexia gasped and slightly moved her head to the side. You smirked at her desperate reaction.

"Couldn't wait to go home and get fucked properly, huh? Is your pretty pussy dripping for me?"

Alexia bit her lip at your hushed whispers. She answered your question when her thighs clenched tightly and rubbed against eachother. She really didn't know how she got so wet. Watching you train, your muscles highlighted with sweat and then seeing your abs when you pulled your shirt off...

Alexia almost moans at the mere memories of you. You push your hand under her shirt to squeeze at her breasts and Alexia moans quietly, looking at you with wide pleading eyes.

"Want me to fuck you against the door?"

You asked when you pressed your body closer, effectively trapping her between you and the metal of the door. Your heads had found themselves under the fabric of her sports bra and you immediately took a nipple between your fingers and tugged.

"Yes! Please, fuck, I need you."

Alexia thought she was going to combust from the need to be touched. She looked at you desperately, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes and you couldn't resist anymore. Without a single warning you dropped down on your knees and pulled Alexia's sweatpants and panties down in one go. Alexia immediately spread her legs as far as they could go, with the fabric down her legs restricting her movements. You chucked at her eagerness and brought your hands up to caress her strong thighs. Not wanting to tease the blonde you immediately went into action.

When you leaned in and placed a short and light kiss on her clit Alexia moaned, loud enough so anyone walking outside could hear. You only smirked against her cunt and slowly dragged your tongue between her folds. Alexia moaned again, this time it was a high pitched sound, almost like a whine. You moved your mouth quickly this time going from her clenching hole up to her swollen clit. It was pulsing and begging for attention but you decided to go ignore it for now, opting to move down to her tight opening and tease. Alexia had moved one of her hands to tangle in your hair while the other tried, and failed, to muffle her moans.

You continued devouring her pussy like it was your last meal on earth and Alexia was getting more desperate for release. She started rolling her hips against your face in a pathetic attempt to get off. You growled in warning after a particularly hard thrust pushed her pelvis on your nose painfully. Alexia was so far gone she couldn't control her desperate movements so you moved your hands from her thighs to roughly grab her ass, squeezing the soft flesh and using it as leverage to keep her hips still. Alexia whimpered at your rough touches and her knees buckled.

Soon enough her thighs started closing down around your head, a clear sign that Alexia was close to coming. You suddenly paused when you heard something over Alexia's muffled moans. Alexia whined and looked down at you, eyes confused and pleading. She tried to push your head back to her cunt but the sound of cleats rapidly hitting the cemented floor broke the horny atmosphere.

"You think she lost us?" Aitana.

"I don't know but we're dead if she finds us." Ona.

You don't know what the two young friends did but sounds like their in trouble. You looked up at Alexia, who's eyes were filled with tears at the sudden interruption. You know how much Alexia hates being edged, especially when she's this needy.

"We have to hide somewhere, quickly. How about this room?"

Alexia's eyes widen in fear when she hears Aitana's words and shakes her head slightly as if the girls in the other side of the wall would somehow get the message. You hate how Alexia's attention has shifted to what's happening outside so you bite the inside of her thigh and the captain barely contains a loud moan by bitting her lip. She looks down at you with a shocked expression and just as you're about to dive in again you hear another booming voice in the hallway.

"There you are! No- don't run away from me, I'll get you!"

Thank god for Mapi.

You don't waste a second before you dive back in. Alexia was distracted from the interruption and the fear of getting caught so when you sucked her clit into your mouth she threw her head back so hard you were worried she got a mild concussion and moaned loudly.

"Fuck, just like that! Please, I need to come."

You continue licking her up, slurping all her juices as Alexia squirms under your strong hold, moaning uncontrollably. It only takes a few more moments before her thighs start squeezing your head once more. You brush your teeth against her clit and your nails wrack down her ass and Alexia's eyes roll back in her head and she comes with a silent scream.

Her cum spills down your face and you don't stop, your tongue working between her folds and dipping in her hole before coming back up at her clit. It's sensitive and pulsing so when your tongue touches it Alexia yelps and pushes your head away slightly. You take the hint and rise up to meet her lips in a heated kiss, your tongue pushing it's way into Alexia's mouth. You smirk against her lips when Alexia moans as she tastes herself in your tongue.

Alexia is left panting against the door barely able to stand. When she opens her eyes she grins at you with that just fucked look that you absolutely love and it takes everything you have in you not to jump on her again. Instead you caress her face and smile when she leans in your touch. You press a quick kiss on her forehead and move down to whisper in her ear.

"When we get home I'll make sure to fuck so good you won't be able to walk for days."

____________________________________________________

#wlw #female reader #smut #bottom character #dom reader #sub character #top reader #woso smut #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

527 notes · View notes

skzstannie · 4 months

Text

"I will wait for you"

SKZ-> Felix x fem!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, almostttt s2l wc: ~2,500 cw: a little bit of blood (reader gets hurt), mentions of panic and anxiety, mentions of toxic relationship, mostly just Felix being s’cute tho

summary: a day in the life with Felix as you recover from your previous abusive relationship

A/N: Hiii! Here is the awaited part 2 for “I’ll take care of you”. I hope you all enjoy! All feedback and likes/reblogs are much appreciated!

Happy scrolling! | Masterlist

"Felix, I really don't need all this stuff," you sigh, watching him drag all the things he bought you into your room.

"That's ok, I want you to have it. You deserve it," he replies, his voice strained as he pushes your dresser into place.

As nonchalantly as his words come across, you've decided to permanently engrain them in your head.

Felix has been showering you with words of affirmation for the last few days, and that's the one he used most often.

"You deserve to have the door opened for you."

"You deserve to be taken out for lunch"

"You deserve to be treated like a princess, so please let me."

What may seem like the simplest things to anyone else meant so much to you. Your ex was your first boyfriend, so you've never experienced the love Felix has been showing you. As foreign as it all seems, you urge yourself to get used to it. You want to believe what he says.

You want to trust Felix.

After your breakdown a few nights ago, Felix convinced you to break up with your boyfriend. You sent him a short text, telling him it's over and to not expect to see you again. His texts came in quickly after, sending you countless threats. You contacted the police shortly, and they told you they'd handle it.

The next day, the police called you and informed you your ex had been given a warning and told not to bother you again. They reassured you that they do not take this type of situation lightly and to trust them. The cop told you if your ex ever gave you any trouble, give them a call and they'll take care of it.

You knew you could've pressed charges; you had evidence of the years of abuse he put you through. However, you didn't want to deal with all the extra work that would go with that. You knew your ex deserved to be charged. He'd put you through hell for so long, no one should get away with that.

But, you were also yearning for some peace of mind. You wanted to forget about him, to move on. He didn't deserve the right to take up any space in your mind. You just wanted to live your life peacefully, out of the grasp of your abuser.

Felix has practically been glued to your side ever since that night, only leaving to go to work during the day. He was quick to invite you to stay in his apartment, giving you the spare bedroom.

You explained to Felix that you had absolutely no interest in going back to your old apartment to get your things, and in response to that, he bought you everything new. New clothes, new sheets, new electronics. It was really all too much, but he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You should start hanging up those clothes in your closet; they'll wrinkle if they stay in those bags much longer." He wipes his forehead, working up a sweat while helping you put your room together. You look to your bed, fully decked out in the nicest set of sheets you've ever seen with the fluffiest pillows resting against the headboard. The clothes are piled high on top of it, bag after bag spilling out with the varying pieces of fabric.

At the mall with Felix, he tried to drag you into all the expensive stores, telling you he only wanted you to have the nicest things, but you had to put your foot down sometime. So, with a pout adorning his face, he followed behind you through your favorite stores, stores where the least expensive thing didn't cost $150. You picked up the clothes you thought would look good on you, trying them on in the dressing room, fully expecting to be paying for your own stuff. After all Felix had already done for you, you'd never expect him to pay for your clothes.

Being the gentleman he is, though, he was able to whip his credit card out long before you were able to find yours in your purse.

You vividly remember the shy look he gave you as he'd handed his card to the cashier, batting his eyelashes at you in a silent plea of forgiveness.

"There are hangers in there already, so don't worry about that. If you need more, I have more in my room," he plops down beside the bags on your bed, peeking inside them.

"Thank you again, Felix, for all of this," you tell him, your eyes soft as you watch him get comfortable on your bed.

"You're very welcome."

~ ~ ~

You've finally finished organizing your closet, and it's honestly perfect. Color coded shirts line the rack, hung with nice white hangers, and your pants and shorts are folded in your beautiful dresser. You let out a sigh of relief and turn to view the rest of your bedroom, your eyes scan the room, and your heart thrums with satisfaction.

Everything is beautiful, from your sheer curtains covering your window to the gorgeous oak desk, your computer sitting atop it. Your gaze shifts to the sleeping boy on your bed and your features soften with adoration. Not wanting to wake him up, you crawl in beside him. He's laying crooked across your comforter, but you wiggle your way onto the corner of your bed under the covers.

You're amazed at how drastically your life has changed in just a few days. Only a week ago you feared for your safety every time you walked through your door, leaving you laying with wide eyes most nights.

Now, you've never felt safer as your head hits the pillow and you drift off to sleep.

~ ~ ~

You abruptly sit up in bed, your hand coming up to clutch at your chest. Your breaths come out in short huffs, your quick pulse matching your ragged breathing. Felix, having moved sometime during the night to get under the covers, is already sitting up beside you. His reaction is immediate, his hands coming up to softly grip your shoulders.

Images of your ex run rampant in your mind, clouding the safety you felt just hours before. Your eyes dart to the closed door of your bedroom, scared he'll burst through.

"Hey, it's okay. Everything's locked; no one can get in here," he assures you, seemingly reading your mind. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes frantically searching your panicked ones.

"Yea, I'm fine," you're voice is hoarse, the remnants of sleep slipping through your words. "Just a nightmare."

"Must've been some nightmare, then. You were screaming before you woke up. Scared me half to death," he tells you. Becoming more aware of yourself, you feel how your body is damp with sweat, your hair matted at the back of your head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was just my ex. I don't-" you become choked up at the thought of it, "I don't really want to talk about it."

You hold eye contact with him, his thumbs running along the side of your arms. He has a look of understanding on his face, and, in this moment, you are so glad he stole your coffee that fateful day.

He's saved you. Whether he'll take the credit or not, without Felix you'd still be in the same toxic relationship. Hell, you had already given up, just accepting the fact you'd spend the rest of your life with a monster.

That man had starved you of loving affection for years, so for you to end up in the presence of Felix was a blessing.

"Can you just hold me?" your voice is weak, trembling a bit as you try to shake the nightmarish thoughts from your head.

There's no hesitation as Felix pulls you into his warm embrace, one hand coming up to grip the back of your head while the other rubs affectionately up and down your back. "Of course I can."

Eventually the two of you lay back down with you still residing in the comfort of his arms. You lay in silence for a while, but when you realize sleep isn't going to come easy, you whisper to Felix, "Are you awake?"

He hums back to you, squeezing you a bit tighter for a moment. "Yea," his voice is deep as it rumbles through his chest.

"I can't sleep." Your fingers reach up to play with the bottom of his shirt, toying with a string that's come loose along the side.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Do you want to get up?"

You look to the clock you have on your bedside table, and it reads 6:30 A.M.

You think for a moment before deciding that, in your disheveled state, 6:30 is an appropriate time for you to get up. "Sure," you answer, pulling away from him and moving the covers off your body. "I was planning on making you breakfast before you woke up, but since you're already up, wanna make it together?"

Luckily enough for both of you, neither of you have work today as it's Saturday.

"I'd love to."

He sits up as well, stretching his arms up high while letting out a groan. Your eyes travel down to his body, stopping on his toned stomach that peaks out from the bottom of his shirt.

Of course you've always known Felix was attractive, but now that you're officially single, Felix has been looking especially good lately. However, you do have some respect for yourself, and you know you need time to heal before jumping back into another relationship.

But that doesn't mean you can't find him hot as hell.

You blink out of your trance and blush when Felix's eyes are already settled on you. "Breakfast?" he smirks, his eyes crinkling.

"Breakfast."

~ ~ ~

"Felix, that's way too much butter," you laugh, watching him throw slice after slice of softened butter into your hot pan. "We're not trying to deep fry them."

"My members and I made them like this one time, and they were good," he pouts.

You gently take the butter out of his hands, putting it down beside the stove. "I think they'll taste even better this way."

You guys continue on, and the pancakes come out tasty, topped with sweet syrup and some butter. As you're bringing yours and Felix's empty plates to the counter, your hip accidentally bumps into the sharp edge of the counter, and you cry out in pain. The dishes slip from your grasp and crash to the floor, shattering the ceramic into tiny pieces.

Tears well in your eyes immediately, your heartbeat picking up in intensity. You fall into a state of panic, anxiety sweeping your consciousness.

Your movements are robotic as you bend down, picking up the shards with your bare hands. You’re careless, and the sharp slivers cut through your palm as you hold them.

Felix doesn't let this go on long, immediately crouching beside you. He unwraps your tightly closed fist, and he gasps at the blood covering your delicate hand.

"Babe, you've cut your hand," he sighs, his sad eyes roaming your blank face.

You've tuned him out though, your anxiety still holding the reigns. You involuntarily flinch when he brings his hand up towards your face. His hand stops midair, freezing just near you cheek.

He's frozen still as he watches you with desperate eyes. Your blank stare is locked on the ground beside you, the broken pieces still littering the ground there. "You're ok, I'm not going to hurt you."

His soft words bring you out of your daze, and when you finally look to his him, you finally allow the tears to fall.

Once he sees that you're aware of him and who he is, he allows himself to reach out to you again, wiping your falling tears. He lightly grasps your elbow, pulling your crouched form into his.

Your emotions run wild as he holds you.

How could you think that Felix would hurt you?

"I will never hurt you," his voice cracks, and you feel how your shoulder dampens from his tears.

"I know Felix, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Healing will take time, and I want to be there with you through it all, the good and the bad. Okay?"

You sniffle, nodding your head yes.

"Okay, good. Let's get you cleaned up." He helps you up, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers together. He leads you to the bathroom, where he pulls out a little first aid kit from below the sink.

Looking back to you, he pats the toilet seat, silently asking if you'll sit.

You walk the few steps from the doorway to the toilet seat, and plop yourself down.

He brings your hand up towards the sink, a bottle of alcohol in his other hand.

"This will probably sting a bit, but only for a second."

He slowly pours the liquid onto your palm, and it takes everything in you not to pull away. Your face grimaces as the stinging continues, the alcohol running of the ends of your fingers.

The nice white porcelain of the sink is stained red now as your blood swirls down the drain. Felix lets the water run, swishing it up onto the sides of the sink to get rid of the residue.

He grabs the towel hanging behind him, bringing it to your palm to get rid of the excess moisture. His touch is so gentle, his hands treating you like glass.

He opens the first aid kit again, grabbing some wrap and a few bandages. "I'm gonna put these on you and then put this wrap around your hand. I think the bandages will just fall off if I don't wrap them," he explains, waiting for you to give the 'okay' for him to continue.

You hum at him, agreeing, and he gets right to work.

Just a few minutes later, your hand feels as if it's been expertly bandaged by some healthcare professional, and your heart sores with adoration as you admire the man in front of you.

"How lucky I am to have met you," you tell him, a soft smile adorning your lips.

"Not as lucky as I am," he smiles back, pulling you up from your seat to give you a comforting hug.

Your hands land on his chest, creating a slight gap between the two of you.

Your eyes drift down to his lips, his tongue darting out to wet them.

"I really wanna kiss you right now..."

"But..?" his hands grip your waist, holding you tightly.

"But, I feel like it wouldn't be fair for you or me. I need time. I need time to really find myself again," your eyes are filled with sorrow as they make their way up Felix's face. You take note of the way his cheeks have turned rosy, his freckled face tinted with the cutest shade of pink.

"I respect you, wholeheartedly, and if that's what you want, I will wait for you."

"You will?" years of emotional abuse have affected your ability to trust, but you remind yourself that this is Felix you're talking to. He's never given you a reason not to trust him.

"I will. Forever and ever if I have to."

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #lee felix #stray kids felix #felix x reader #part 2/2 #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #strangers to lovers #skz felix #felix

402 notes · View notes

hiddenlife-manager · 7 days

Note

I beg i beg i beg, i’ve read your latest Carlos fic repeatedly, PLEASE give me a part two, please please please i know it isn’t everyone’s taste but ITS MINE PLEASE

Carlos Sainz Jr Anal x femReader

cw... raw, cock, nsfw, anal sex, slight praise kink, creampie in ass, plot, hair gripping, hair pulling, simple sex due to injury, soft dom carlos, overstimulation, lube usage, lack of female pronouns, and lack of breast mentions, etc

notepad... hehe you ask and you recieve I wanted to go with a slight softer point of view in this due to his appendix being removed. I am like down for an anal series cause when i tell you I HAVE A LIST OF POSITONS. Anyway one down of the two stories I am writing for this month.

Part One

“He did it again. Carlos Sainz has won the Australian Grand Prix.” You heard an announcer state through the monitors hung on the walls in the Ferrari garage. You shook your head and placed your hands on your head to breathe for a moment. This race left you stressed, your mind worrying only about Carlos's current condition. What comforted you was seeing his car cross the checkered line, which allowed you to see Carlos was perfectly fine. You fanned yourself off rather quickly and rushed off with the rest of the Ferrari team to join the crowd.

Carlos drove his car into the garage and got out slowly, with the help of others, due to his inability to move rather quickly. He pumped his arm up in the air, walking to the crowd of all his team members; they hugged and cheered his name for this amazing win. The group high-fived or hugged him to celebrate. He eventually reached you, hugging you tightly, not letting you go for even a second, still wearing his helmet. Your lips kissed his hemelt, saying goodbye. He took his helmet and neck support off and celebrated with Lando and Charles before heading to the podium while you clapped the entire time.

The entire day was filled with interviews that he had to participate in. Carlos's win was important for multiple reasons; it showed his worth as a driver and also made him the only person so far to break current world champion Max Verstappen's streak. Yet he finally arrived back at the garage and walked slowly, his one hand resting on his side, where his appendix was and where the bandages currently are. He embraced you, allowing you to give extra support by placing your arm behind his muscular back.

“Another win for Carlos Sainz Jr., and right after getting his appendix removed, it is quite impressive.” You spoke with nothing but a joking tone. He looked down at you and kissed your lips quickly. “Amor, cállate.” He laughed while the two of you walked to the car. You helped him in carefully and couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.

“I am simply stating a fact. Perhaps all drivers should get their appendices removed. Well, except for Alex, his appendix is gone.” You two sat beside each other in the car, his hand slowly going up your leg. He didn’t care if he had his appendix removed or just raced; he wanted his part of the deal. Ever since the first time he made it to the podium, he wanted his gift. It had been four times in total, and now he wanted it again. “Recuerda el trato.” He whispered in your ear; he knew speaking in English risked the driver hearing it, and you had learned the saying, so you knew what he was saying.

Your lips were on his the moment the both of you entered the hotel room. The door shut behind you two, but you made sure to be careful with Carlos. You were well aware he was still recovering and was feeling slight lingering pain. You grabbed his hand the second you two stopped kissing and slowly walked him to a chair. You sat on his lap, being careful.

"Carlito, I will never forget,” you smirked, kissing his neck and slowly going down his body. “Besides, I have been planning the best way to do this.” Your hands reached his zipper and slid it down. His cock came out, and it was clear he was worked up. You heard him let out a gentle breath, but no moan. You wanted to take your time, but knowing Carlos, he just wanted to be with you. You sat up, walked over to the luggage, and pulled out the lube. You tossed it to him, and even if he was recovering, Carlos never missed it and caught it with ease.

“Amor, you are truly rushing.” Carlos paused but chuckled, shaking his head and running his hand through his dark and soft hair. He opened the bottle and squeezed it onto his cock. You walked over to him. You were still standing, and Carlos was sitting staring up at you with his signature smile on his lips. Your hands touched his cock and began to spread a generous amount of lube. “I don't mind, eres mia after all.” He groaned and threw his head back. Your hands were working around his cock, and smirked.

“You love this, Carlos. I know you're sad. You can’t fuck my ass every single day.” He placed the bottle to the side and grabbed your hair, pulling you up and kissing your lips. He let go of your hair and placed his hands on your hips, rolling through your dips. He helped you onto his lap so you didn’t hurt him. You decided to just rely on the lube his cock had, knowing it would take longer for you to get him in you.

You slowly lowered your ass onto his cock and groaned as you gripped his shoulders and fell forward. He didn't care; he loved how weak you got. You moaned as you slowly made him enter and stretch you out. You were clearly struggling to take him in. You got him half way into you, but you had to stop. You pulled yourself off of him and were breathing heavily.

“You can take it.” He whispered in your ear, caressing your hips, and you fully put yourself on his cock and moaned loudly. You couldn’t believe how good it always felt. You were out of breath from him being inside of you. Slowly, you started to go up and down, moving the way you knew he liked it. You rolled your hips each time you went down on him, and you could hear his soft grunts. “Perfecta…” He groaned as you were slow.

“Love being on the podium, Carlito?" He smirked as he kissed your lips and held your hips to go up and down at a faster pace. You were a mess from the way he was softly praising you; he loved your body so much that he desired this more than any man. His hips slightly buckled up into your ass, and he was able to pull out a louder moan from you. Your hips went faster while moans began to slip from your lips, and he continued to kiss you, attempting to disguise the moans through kissing. It was clear he was feeling just as weak as you were; the feeling of tightness was overwhelming, and he loved your thighs against his.

“Si, si asi!” He groaned as you went faster and faster on his cock. You were grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand, and your other pulled at his hair, gently snaking up from behind his neck. He smirked as you were being very vocal through moans but no words. He may have just gotten out of surgery, but he needed this; he needed you and your ass. You had everything he wanted. He continued to praise you in Spanish.

“Me vengo!” You moaned. He loved you using the Spanish that he taught you. He placed his lips on your neck and began to suck as he took over, fucking your ass. You were clearly slowing down, and he would continue as you shook. Your orgasm hit you hard, and he cared very little, his cock ramming into your ass, your arms holding onto him weakly. “So much…” You moaned, but you were nothing but a mess, moaning and crying out loud. He loved the noise you made. It was clear you were perfect for him. He eventually felt himself get closer and closer, ramming harsher into your ass until he came inside your ass. You let out one last sigh of pleasure as you fell on him weakly.

“I need to teach you more Spanish words.” He pulled out of you, and he helped you off him as you leaked his cum, and he kissed your neck. “Estoy cansado y tu.” You nodded, and he was still weak from his surgery, but he sat there, hugging you tightly and brushing your hair with his hands.

#fanfic #x reader #oneshot #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #ferrari carlos #carlos sainz #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz jr #cs55 x reader #cs55 smut

401 notes · View notes

writingforstraykids · 2 months

Text

I owe you a kiss Pt.4

Pairing: Minchan x femReader (mention of Jisung/Felix)

Word Count: 5903

Summary: Chan arrives at the hospital to be there for his family in person. The news they receive about you aren't what they expected and Minho can't help but blame himself. Your husbands try to navigate their life as you recover.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, mention of blood, mention of a panic attack, coma, mention of sleeping pills, mention of throwing up (no further descriptions) min feels guilty, anxious!min, soft!chan

A/N: I sure hope you don't hate me as much as last week...🥺🖤

PART THREE | PART FIVE

Chan's heart drops to his stomach as he sees him. Tears stream down his face, and he looks terrified. Truly terrified. There's blood on his shirt, there's blood on the hand he uses to try and wipe away his tears. “Minho, fuck, where are you?”

“Hospital” is all he gets out.

“Why, what…Minho, where's Y/N?” he asks, his stomach tightening in fear at the pained sound that leaves Minho when your name is mentioned. “Min?”

Minho's breathing picks up, and he clutches the fabric of his pants tightly, trying to steady himself. “Someone crashed into our car, I-I swear it wasn't my fault. T-The airbag didn't open a-and-,” he breaks off with a sob. “Channie, there was so much blood,” he whimpers.

“Where's Y/nnie?” he asks, barely audible, blank fear taking over him.

“She's in surgery right now. Channie, they don't know if-” he can't say it, but meeting Chan's terrified eyes, he knows he gets it. “I'm so sorry,” he buries his face in his knees with a heavy sob.

Tears fill his eyes and he hates himself for not being there and able to hold him tight and not let go. “Minnie, baby, I'm sure it's not your fault,” he says gently and gets up, grabbing his suitcase. “Hannah!” he shouts through the house, not caring that his parents already went to bed. He needs to get back home as soon as possible.

Hannah is there in a few seconds, a little shocked by her brother's distraught look. “What's wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“I need to get home right now,” he tells her, and she nods gently. “Min, I'll figure this out, I promise. I'll be there as quickly as I can, okay?” Hannah's worries deepen at the timid answer Minho gives. “I know you have other things to worry about, but please let them check up on you, okay? I wouldn't want you to be hurt and notice too late.”

“Okay, Channie,” he sniffles. “What if she…?”

“Don't think that way,” Chan tells him softly. “Y/nnie’s a fighter, she'll push through. I'll let you know when I'm at the airport.”

Hannah already started packing her brother's suitcase, glancing at him worriedly as he exchanged goodbyes. “You look like shit, what happened?”

“They got into an accident,” he says and already dials another number. “They don't know if Y/N..,” he breaks off, and Hannah pulls him into a tight hug.

“She'll be okay; she always is,” she promises. “Now go call your fancy staff and get your VIP privileges; I'll pack.”

“Thank you,” he nods.

Minho looks up from his chair as the door to the room opens, and Felix slips inside. “What are you -?”

“Chan called and told me you could use someone,” Felix explains. He takes off his jacket and sits down next to him. He offers his hand, and Minho takes it, squeezing it gently. “Any news?”

“No,” he whispers timidly. “Still nothing,” he says. It's an hour ago that he called Chan. Someone checked up on him after cleaning the blood from his face and hands. “I didn't get hurt,” he says, and his face grows pale. “She was unconscious before I could do a thing, hit her head pretty hard. Felix there was so much blood,” he says mindlessly, as if he's giving him the facts on a new comeback.

Felix hums gently and rubs his shoulder. “I stopped by your place and got you some clothes. Maybe go and change, hm?” he suggests, spotting the blood on his shirt.

Minho stands up in a routine move, grabs his clothes, and locks himself in the bathroom. He meets his reflection in the mirror and closes his eyes, shivering softly. Fuck.

Felix glances up as he comes back and nods towards the small sofa in the corner of the room. He sits down there and pulls Minho into a hug. “I'm so sorry, Min.”

“It's not your fault,” Minho says tiredly and relaxes a little in his warm embrace. It's the first time something as shocking as this has happened, and none of his partners are there to hold his hand.

“I know,” Felix nods gently. “But still. You've already had a rough few months with Chan feeling like shit and then leaving.”

“Life is shit sometimes,” Minho shrugs, and his eyes flutter close when Felix starts running his hand through his hair. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

The flight back home has never felt as long as today. Never. About two hours ago he had gotten a message from Minho, short and simple, but it was enough.

Kitten🖤: She'll make it.

Chan quickly makes his way out of the airport and stops at home for ten minutes. Felix had told him to get home first, take a quick shower, and change clothes. None of them knew how long they'd be stuck at the hospital. Chan got into his car after and drove to the hospital, rushing up to your floor as soon as he knew where. Opening the door, he sees Felix sitting on the sofa in the back and gives him a quick wave.

Minho is by your bed, head resting on his arm on the mattress and seems asleep. Dried tear streaks cover his face and Chan's throat tightens at how exhausted he looks even in his sleep. And then there's you, looking as pale as the sheets, your head wrapped up safely. Your hand lies in Minho's, and only your chest moving tells him you're alive. Chan finds himself in Felix's arms before he fully registers the scene and hugs back tightly.

“Hey, mate,” Felix whispers, not wanting to wake Minho up. “I'll leave you to it, yeah? So that you know Minho does blame himself for what happened. We don't know when she'll wake up, but the doctor said she will.”

Chan nods gently before flashing him a tired smile. “Thank you for being here.”

“Obviously,” Felix snorts and gently pats his chest. “Welcome home, I guess.”

A little later, they're alone, and Chan timidly steps closer to Minho, sitting down on the chair next to him. His hand finds his lower back almost naturally and he very gently picks him up into his lap. A soft protesting sound leaves Minho's lips but he's too tired actually to question the action. Minho curls up in his arms, the way he always does, as if deep down he knows it's Chan. Chan makes sure he's comfortable and plants a tiny kiss on his hair, soothingly fondling his head. Only then did it hit him how much he had missed you two.

Minho wakes up later, feeling warm and comfortable. He subconsciously cuddles close before his brain slowly picks up on Chan's so familiar scent and the way his body feels against him, and he sits up straight rapidly. “Channie,” he breathes out, his eyes getting teary.

“Hi, kitten,” he says softly and presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he confesses quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” he asks gently. “Lee Minho, if you blame yourself for what happened now, I will smack your ass. Not in a good way.”

A weak laugh escapes him, and he gently shoves his chest. “Of course I do. I'd rather get hurt than her.”

“She'd say the same if it were you,” he says and gently rubs his shoulder. “Nevertheless, it's not your fault.”

“Channie?” he whispers timidly. “I really don't believe that and…,” he trails off with a sniffle.

“I'm here now, let it out,” he says softly, and Minho's head drops down in his chest with a broken sound. Chan holds him tight, trying to make him feel as safe and comforted as possible. Minho shuffles into his lap, straddling him and pulling him into a tight hug. They hold onto each other firmly and find comfort in their shared pain for a bit. “I'm so sorry I wasn't there.”

“Don't,” Minho stops him, burying his hand in his hair. “You're here now.”

“I didn't mean what I said in that call,” Chan tells him nevertheless. “I was planning to surprise you for your birthday in two weeks after.”

Minho sniffles softly and squeezes him. “Yeah? So you've been getting better?”

“I have,” Chan nods and kisses his cheek. “It's still not completely, but it's so much better.”

“That's good,” he tells him. “I'm proud of you, Channie.”

“I love you,” Chan says gently. “So so much.”

Minho smiles a little at that and takes a deep breath. He is better. “I love you too, Channie.”

Minho firmly holds Chan's hand as they lean against the wall opposite your room. About twenty minutes ago, the doctor sent them away as you started to tremble. Since then, no one has talked to them. Another doctor shuffled into the room, and Minho could tell Chan was getting anxious from there on.

Chan grows awfully quiet next to him, staring at the floor and seeming like he's far away. Minho is shaking a little, tapping his fingers against his thigh anxiously. Chan soothingly rubs his knuckles and squeezes his hand for the tenth time. “They said she'd be okay, right?” he asks.

Minho glances at him awkwardly. “They said she'd make it…whatever that means for the rest.”

Chan huffs softly and nods, Minho is right. “Am I the only one feeling like throwing up?”

“God no,” Minho laughs weakly. “Have been since the accident.”

Chan glances at him worriedly. “You should've told me.”

He shrugs tiredly and cracks his neck with a soft moan. “I always am when I'm worried. There's nothing you could've done.”

Chan nods and traces his eyes up and down his body. “But you're not dizzy? Are you having a headache? Or anything?”

Minho steps in front of him and takes both of his hands. “I'm okay, physically. They checked everything, I promise,” he tells him softly and Chan pulls him into a hug. He lets him, only then noticing that Chan is shaking himself by now. “Deep breaths, we'll be alright.”

“Okay,” Chan whispers.

“We'll be okay,” Minho repeats himself as if to convince them both.

“Okay,” Chan nods, and Minho pulls back from him as the door opens. Their hands don't part as the doctor leads them to an office nearby and asks them to sit down. Chan looks like he's about to throw up now and Minho is dancing at the edge of a lingering panic attack.

“Mr. Lee, you've asked me to wait for a proper update on your wife's state until your husband arrives,” she starts out, and Chan gently grabs Minho's hand, squeezing it. “I have an update on the condition of your wife and I'm afraid it isn't what you'd like to hear. The impact injured her frontal bone, which punctured her brain. We could fix this with the surgery,” the doctor tells them.

Both of them are smart enough not to be too relieved already. “And besides that?” Minho asks timidly, not having missed that warning before.

She gives him a compassionate smile. “Well, for one there'll probably be the usual aftermaths like nightmares or even fear of sitting in a car again. That isn't everything, though.”

“Stop sweet talking and tell us what we're dealing with, please,” Chan says kindly, heart thumping in his throat.

“Your wife seems to have suffered more trauma than we thought, especially after the surgery. She's in a coma, and we don't know when or if she'll wake-.”

“If?” Minho asks, barely audible, his hand slipping from Chan’s. “But…you said she’d make it.”

She flashes him a compassionate smile. “That’s before her body shut down, she seemed stable before. I’m really sorry.”

“For fucks sake,” he breathes out and slowly pushes himself up from his chair. “You’re saying there’s a chance she’ll never wake up again? What then? You expect me to tell you when to turn it all off?”

“Minho,” Chan speaks up gently and turns in his chair to face him. There’s nothing but blank fear in his eyes, and he looks at the doctor in front of them so desperately it breaks his heart. “It’s not her fault.”

“No shit, Chan!” Minho snaps at him, and Chan’s gaze grows firm.

“Don’t do this. Not here,” he says calmly, and Minho scoffs at him.

“My image as an idol is the last thing I care about right now, Mr. Golden Boy,” he presses out and shakes his head, leaving the room without another word.

Chan sighs heavily and turns back at the doctor, smiling apologetically. “I apologize, he didn’t mean it.”

“I'll be quick,” she assures him kindly. We don't know how soon she'll wake up again. In case she does, someone has to take care of her. I know you're both very busy. Is there anyone else, just in case?”

“Besides a friend of hers not really, no,” Chan says worriedly. “Her family doesn't live exactly close.”

“If she can go back home soon…Mr. Bahng, there's a high chance this will take months, maybe a year, until she fully regains her abilities. We don't know how bad it'll affect her yet, there's a potential for memory loss. I will inform you about eventual treatments and everything when it's time. I'm really sorry and I wish you and your husband the best of luck and strength with this new situation.”

Chan exchanges another few words before quickly rushing outside and trying the closest bathroom as the hallway is empty. Luckily, Minho seemed to have forgotten to lock the door. Minho's on his knees, retching even though there's nothing left. Chan crouches down behind him, gently rubbing his shoulders. “Hey, baby, deep breaths.”

Minho whimpers and falls back against him, sobbing. “Please, please tell me this isn't true. Not our sweet Y/nnie.”

Chan swallows down tears, trying to stay strong for both of them. Minho has been carrying everyone's shit on his shoulders for too long now. It's time he steps up again. “It'll be okay, we'll be okay,” he promises and rocks him gently as Minho allows himself to break down in his arms. “Shh, it's okay, Minnie baby, it's okay, I got you.”

Chan stares at you, deep in thoughts, trying to make sense of the past few hours. The thought of you possibly never waking up again is killing him. He feels guilty for not being there those past months. What if he missed all this time with you? Just because he hadn't been feeling so well? His chest tightens, and he sucks in a sharp breath, subconsciously reaching for Minho next to him. Every word dies in his throat, seeing his husband. Minho stares at the floor, hot tears running down his cheeks and pressing his lips together tightly in an attempt to hold back his sobs. His hair falls into his face, stomach twisting with guilt the longer he thinks about what happened. Chan swallows hard at the sight of his husband, trying not to break down. His shoulders tremble with the impact of his suppressed sobs, and he sniffles softly. Chan gently rubs his back and watches him worriedly as he pushes himself up. He quickly reaches out for him and stares up at him with wide eyes. “Please don't leave,” he whispers, swallowing down his own fear but not fully succeeding. “Please,” he adds, tears brimming his eyes.

Minho looks at him and shakes his head. “I can't breathe in here,” he confesses through tears and shakily holds Chan's hand. “I just wanna go home, please, I’ve been here for hours,” he whimpers.

Chan looks at him quietly before nodding. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. They're both exhausted and need some sleep. You wouldn't wake up that soon, and they both could use a break. “Okay, I'll drive us home; my car’s outside.”

“For telling you to get yourself together…more or less,” he says and stops at a redlight. “That wasn’t very supportive of me.”

Minho exhales, relieved, and shakily holds onto his hand as Chan gently says his goodbye to you. They leave the hospital in silence, and Chan drives them back home, soothingly rubbing Minho's knee. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Minho asks tiredly, staring at the many buildings passing by.

Minho laughs weakly and rolls his eyes at himself. “It’s okay, you were right. There’s nothing she can do about it right now…Also, I’m sorry for calling you a golden boy.”

“Please, as if I’d take that to heart after those past few months,” he snorts, and Minho smiles at him tiredly.

“I missed you,” he admits and grabs his hand, squeezing it. “It’s good to have you back.”

Chan smiles softly and brings their hands up to his mouth, planting a kiss on his knuckles. “I’m here now, yeah?”

Minho hums quietly in response, and Chan starts driving again.

Back home, Minho stands still for a moment, and Chan watches him worriedly as he starts shaking. Minho sucks in a sharp breath and clutches his chest, bending over with a whimper. “Hey, hey, babe,” he panics a little as Minho sinks to his knees with a groan, curling up and sobbing loudly. “What’s wrong?” he asks, worried that Minho got hurt and just didn’t tell him.

“I'm so sorry,” he whimpers as Chan gets down on the floor next to him. “It's all my fault.”

Chan shakes his head and holds onto him tightly, leaning down. “No, don't say that,” he tells him and helplessly rubs his back. “It's not your fault, baby.” His heart races with how intensely Minho sobs beneath him, and his stomach turns painfully. He has never seen him break down like this in all those many years he has known and then loved him. “Come here, please,” he whispers, tears making their way down his face. Now that they're back home, he can let them flow freely and allow himself to let it out. He heaves him into his lap, and Minho clings onto him firmly, allowing himself a little comfort in his husband's arms. Chan rocks him in his arms, trying to calm his own troubled mind.

“I’m sorry, Channie,” he whimpers and Chan hugs him even tighter in response.

One week later

“Min, baby?” Chan asks, coming back upstairs. “You're ready yet, we gotta-Minho?” he asks worriedly as he spots his husband lying in bed fully dressed. He bites back a sigh and sits down at the edge of the bed. “Min? What's wrong?”

“I don't want to,” he says quietly, seemingly staring right through him.

“What do you mean? We made a promise to stop by every day,” he tries gently.

“I can't go there, okay? Not today,” he shakes his head and subconsciously curls up a little. “I hate hospitals, I hate that she's there, I hate that she's hurt, and there's nothing I can do about it.”

“We should try to be there for her as much as we can, baby,” Chan argues carefully and brushes his hair from his face.

“It’s not like she notices if I’m not there or not,” Minho says.

“The doctor said there’s a chance she can hear us, kitten, remember?” he asks patiently.

“I don’t talk anyway,” he argues weakly.

“Min,” he sighs softly.

“I can't go there, Channie. Please don't make me go there,” he shivers, his eyes brimming with tears. “Please,” he whispers shakily.

Chan crawls into bed and pulls him in close, soothingly running his hand through his hair. “Shh, baby, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry, Channie,” Minho hiccups and buries himself deep into his chest. “I fucked it all up, I'm so sorry.”

“No, Minho, none of that,” he says firmly and shakes his head. “This isn't your fault, none of it.”

“You weren't even there, you don't know that,” he whimpers.

Chan pulls back and cups his face, making him look at him. “I might haven't been there, but I'm here now. I know my husband would do anything to keep that girl of ours safe. I know you would've swapped places in an instant, and I know you'd never put her at risk like that.” His thumbs rub along his cheeks soothingly, and he searches his eyes desperately. “Minho, this isn't your fault, and I’m sure she knows that. She loves you so much, and so do I. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over.”

“Please don't make me go there again,” he sniffles timidly, eyes wide and filled with guilt.

“I'll go on my own, it's okay, Min,” he assures him and kisses his forehead. “Try and get some rest okay?”

“I keep dreaming about it,” he shakes his head and rubs his face tiredly. “I keep hearing her scream, and then her head hits…Channie, I'm fucked.”

Chan hums gently and rubs soothing circles on his lower back. “If it doesn't get better, we'll get you some help, yeah?” he suggests, and Minho nods tiredly. “For now, I'll give you one of my pills, and you'll be sleeping like a baby.”

“Okay,” he nods gently. Minho gets into some more comfortable clothes again and takes the pill, curling up in his arms. Chan plays with his hair and hums softly, lulling him in with every passing minute. “Love you, Channie hyung.”

“Love you too, Minho baby,” he says softly and kisses his head. Once Minho's actually asleep, he tucks him in and makes sure he's comfortable before he leaves to go and see you. Chan stays with you for a while, talking to himself, telling you about whatever comes to his mind. If he could, he’d stay here all day, but there’s still loads of work to catch up with, and he doesn’t dare leave Minho on his own for too long.

At the company, Chan slowly strolls down the hallway to their practice room and hears the music blasting. He opens the door and finds Felix and Jisung practicing their newest dance. He gives them a tired wave, and Jisung quickly turns off the music.

“Didn’t we agree on you staying home for a few days?” Felix asks him and raises his eyebrows at him.

“It’s suffocating,” he shakes his head, and Jisung glances at him worriedly.

“He’s not getting better, huh?” he asks, and Chan shakes his head.

“I can’t blame him. He was the one driving; I’d blame myself, too. It’s just…today, he simply couldn’t get himself to go to the hospital with me,” Chan tells them quietly and stares at the floor. “I can’t fix this, and it’s driving me insane.”

“Hey,” Jisung says gently. “When you were feeling like shit, neither of them tried to fix you. They held your hand when you needed it and let you go as you needed some space. You can’t fix any of this, just be there for him.”

“I’m trying, Ji, I swear,” Chan huffs, frustrated, tears burning in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have left.”

“And what would have that changed?” Felix asks gently. “The only difference that could’ve been would be you driving. You think Minho would stand here any differently now then?”

“I hurt him,” Chan says and they frown at him softly. “We got into a fight, and Y/nnie took him out for dinner to cheer him up because I’ve been a complete asshole. She texted me, saying how hurt he was and…maybe he would’ve reacted more quickly and-.”

“Chan,” Felix says firmly. “We’ve seen the footage, there was no chance. The other driver was drunk and racing down that street. There’s nothing he could’ve done. If you truly don’t blame him, you can’t blame yourself either. If you’re saying you made him too caught up in his thoughts to prevent the accident, you’re not only blaming yourself here.”

Chan tiredly rubs his face before nodding. “Yeah, okay, sorry.”

“You should get back home and get some rest,” Jisung says softly and pulls him into a tight hug. “There’s no use in staying here and beating yourself up, worrying about Min when you could be with him right now.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nods and squeezes them both tightly. “I’ll just sort a few things out, then I’ll be gone, promise.”

“Alright,” they nod and wave goodbye.

So three hours in total later, Chan gets back home and quietly glances into their bedroom. Minho's still deep asleep, and Chan decides to join him while he works. He sits down on the bed next to him and gently runs his hand through his hair, turning on his laptop. He sighs softly, spotting the fading bruises on his arm and the healing cut right below his hairline. Of course, Minho had been hurt by the impact as well, but the shock and gravity of your situation made him downplay his own injuries. Chan only found out accidentally when they took a bath two days ago to relax a little. “Oh, kitten,” he whispers to himself and shakes his head at him.

Minho wakes up another three hours later, rolling away from him drowsily. His brain feels fuzzy, his vision is foggy, and he needs a moment to comprehend he's awake. He rubs his face with a groan and blinks heavily, trying to stay awake. Turning onto his back, he spots Chan next to him and squints at him. “Why the fuck are they so strong?” he rasps, voice laced heavily with sleep.

“Well, because I need them to sleep,” he chuckles and gently fondles his hair. “You slept alright?”

“Mhm,” he hums sleepily and stretches his body with a low groan. “How's Y/nnie?” he asks timidly.

“No changes yet,” Chan tells him and thoughtfully stares out of the window. “Min?”

“Hm?”

“I think you should take a break,” Chan says, not looking at him.

Minho shoots up and stares at him. “Why?” he asks dangerously low, suddenly fully awake.

“You're exhausted, baby. You deserve a break,” Chan says, glancing at him.

“And it's just that?” Minho asks sharply, and Chan frowns at him. “Not because you think I'm losing it?”

“What? No,” he quickly shakes his head. “I swear it's because you're exhausted, you worked double with me gone.”

“More like triple because you do way too much, but yeah,” he snickers before huffing softly. “Yeah, okay, you're probably right. Can you sort that shit out?”

Chan smiles knowingly. “I already did. You're on break for a month besides group interviews that get recorded or those two live performances we have coming up.”

“Okay,” he nods, agreeing. “That won't stop me from dragging you home from the studio if you stay too long.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promises and squeezes his hand. “You’re okay?”

“I know,” he giggles softly. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“You’re a menace, Chan,” he shakes his head. “If you don’t cut back a little, you’ll end up overwhelmed and overworked again in a month.”

Minho’s eyes flicker away from his, and he nods firmly. “Of course I am.”

“Kitten?” he asks softly. “Can you promise me something?”

“Depends,” he squints at him suspiciously.

“I need you to be honest with me. If you’re struggling, feeling lost, or overwhelmed, let me know. No matter where I am, no matter how late it is,” Chan says, and Minho stares at him quietly for a minute. “Minho?”

“I can try,” he whispers and searches his eyes. “No, I will try. I promise. Just…don’t expect too much, you know how I am.”

“Yeah, okay,” Chan nods worriedly, and Minho gently kisses his cheek.

“I’ll be fine, I always am,” he says.

One and a half months later

After skipping that one time, it took him a week to go back to the hospital. After that, he didn’t miss a day, sometimes coming here with Chan and sometimes, when Chan’s schedule didn’t fit, coming on his own. He couldn’t deal with not seeing you and talking to you, even though you never answered.

Minho greets the nurse with a kind smile and nervously clutches the flowers in his hand. “Any news?”

“Not yet, Mr. Lee,” she says gently. “She’s stable, that’s what counts. It isn’t getting any worse. Don’t give up hope.”

Minho nods gently. “I won’t,” he says before excusing himself and stepping into your room. He closes the door quietly behind himself and sighs softly, seeing you. “Hey, Y/nnie,” he says gently and makes his way around the bed, replacing the old flowers with the ones he brought. “Got you some flowers…you would like those,” he says and sits down on the chair next to your bed. For a while he simply watches you, watches your chest rising and falling, your lashes resting against your cheeks. The bandages around your head are gone by now, and he hesitantly reaches out, caressing your cheek. “God, I miss you,” he sighs softly and braces himself on the mattress, taking your hand between his. “It’s so quiet at the house now when Channie’s working. Sometimes, I’m stupid enough to believe you’ll come around the corner every second and ask for cuddles. Or ask if I can make you dinner, I miss cooking with you so much,” he rambles on mindlessly. “You’d be surprised how much has changed since you’re not home. Chan is home before twelve every night, can you believe that? He’s really taking care of himself now, you’d be so proud. Also, he asked me to teach him some things around the kitchen, I think he did it so I wouldn’t get bored. I’m seeing a therapist now…never thought I’d ever need that. Apparently, there’s more stuff in my life I need to work through besides that stupid accident. She’s nice, you’d like her,” he says and trails off for a while. Your face before his eyes gets blurry as his eyes brim with tears and his throat tightens up.

It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel like shit about what happened. It’s okay to feel guilty. As long as it doesn’t stop you from moving on with your life and eventually smiling again. He doesn’t know how often he heard those first three sentences in the past few weeks.

Minho inhales shakily and squeezes your hand in his. “I miss you so much, honey. I miss your laugh, I miss acting stupid with you, I miss holding your hand or pulling you close and swaying you through the kitchen. I miss holding you when you’re asleep, and I never thought I’d miss carrying the grocery bags for you this badly. Fuck, I miss your voice and those beautiful eyes looking at me like I deserve all the love you have for me,” he sniffles softly and presses his trembling lips together for a second. “Can you try and wake up soon, Y/nnie honey? I can’t stay strong forever,” he presses out, and his shoulders shake with a suppressed sob. He doesn’t notice the door opening and flinches a little as someone wraps his arms around his waist. Chan’s familiar scent surrounds him, and Minho instinctively leans into his touch. “I’m okay,” he whispers.

“I know,” Chan answers quietly and kisses his cheek. “Some days are just harder than others.”

“Yeah,” Minho sniffles softly and stays in his arms, your hand in his pressed against his face. “You’re early,” he speaks up after a while.

“We finished early,” he nods and mindlessly rubs his side. “Thought I’d stop by and pick you up.”

“Thanks, love,” he says gently. He doesn’t feel safe driving yet, and Chan made sure to pick him up personally whenever he could. Minho pulls back from you with a sniffle, gently resting your hand on the mattress. “No update yet, but they told me it’s a good sign that her state isn’t getting worse.”

“Okay, that’s something,” Chan nods, agreeing, and gets himself a chair, lifting Minho in his lap. “You wanna talk about today?” he asks, gently rubbing his thighs.

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asks, turning in his hold. Chan nods understandingly and squeezes his hand.

“That’s fine,” he says, resting his head on his shoulder. “You know you don’t have to tell me about therapy, but I’m there if you want to.”

“I know,” Minho smiles thankfully and watches you thoughtfully. “I see her every day, and still, I miss her like crazy.”

“Yeah, me too,” Chan nods. “I’m so glad to have you still…I’d go insane on my own.”

“Oh, me too,” he chuckles softly. “You wanna leave? Or can we stay for another bit?”

“We can stay as long as you want to, kitten,” he promises.

One week later

Minho unlocks the front door to your house and drags himself inside. After a quick visit this morning he had been at the company, practicing for an upcoming performance. It’s been two months since you fell into a coma, and according to the doctor, you’re slowly starting to make progress. She told them there was a high chance it wouldn’t take all too long anymore for you to wake up. Minho didn’t care one bit how long it would still take. The fact that you’d wake up again had been everything he needed.

He frowns softly at how quiet the house is. Shouldn’t Chan already be home? Minho slips out of his shoes and calls out for him, getting no answer. “Channie, love?” he asks again, strolling into the living room area. His eyes widen at the sight in front of him, and he covers his mouth in shock. “What the fuck?”

The living room is dark but illuminated by the many strings of light adorning the walls. A huge bouquet of red roses rests beautifully in a vase on top of the sofa table, and the sweet scent of fresh brownies lingers in the air. Minho turns at the sound of the door opening and sees his husband stepping inside with a bottle of wine. “Channie?” he asks softly.

Chan’s eyes widen, spotting him, and his face falls checking his watch. “Hey! You’re home early,” he protests.

“Obviously,” Minho giggles and frowns at him. “What’s all that about? Did I miss something? It’s not our anniversary, right?” he asks worriedly.

Chan puts down the bottle of wine and shakes his head. “I just realized it’s been six long months since I did something nice for you with everything going on. I wanted to surprise you and - no, why are you crying?” he asks softly.

“Sorry,” he giggles through tears. “Happy tears, I swear,” he promises and messily wipes his cheeks.

“Fucker,” he breathes out as his own eyes fill with tears seeing him beaming with joy after all this time.

Minho giggles wetly and closes the distance between them, hugging him so forcefully it makes Chan stumble for a moment. “You’re so sweet.”

Chan smiles brightly and buries his face in his shoulder. “I love you so much, kitten.”

“I love you too,” he whispers and pulls back, beaming at him. They sink into each other’s eyes and Minho can’t help giving in to the invisible string pulling them closer. Their lips meet in a slow, sweet kiss and Minho melts into him, hand buried in his curls.

“I worried this would be too cheesy,” Chan giggles breathlessly as he pulls back for a moment.

“Don’t you ever dare stop being cheesy, yeah?” he whispers.

“Never,” he promises, giggling, and seals the deal with another soft kiss.

PART THREE | PART FIVE

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @kailee08 @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @ontito0icongirls @furiousheartpoetry @bluesiebirdie @scarlet789 @ziipzeepzop-eez @harshaaaaa @lost-in-avoidance

225 notes · View notes

ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year

Note

Sagau but the reader gets reallyangry evry time when someone insults sucrose,venti,nahida and fischil...... so the former sages of academia are now seeing the reader riding on azdaha screaming how they will wrath of the rock, or anyone who badmouths sucrose and fischil feels like reader screaming that they will sufere while zhongli and ei holds them back, but when someone try to insult reader.......reader just gets bored and gose to sleep and acolaytes have wtf face

When Someone Insults Sucrose, Venti, & Nahida... Vs When Someone Insults Reader

Anon, you know for a fact things are about to go down when Reader hears the insults directed at these characters. For all we know—if reader wasn't be held back they probably would actually murder some people.

OH, and this one's going to be VERY LONG, so be prepared! This was also the reason why I had to get rid of Fischl—that and it was also because my motivation decided to die on me—

(Disclaimers: Might be OOC, (perhaps) Mentions of Violence, & Quest Spoilers!)

Sucrose

The moment she gets insulted for how shy and unusual her experiments were, you can literally tell her confidence breaking. You can see it in the way her ears began to droop more and how she starts fumbling with her stuff.

And, you treasure Sucrose A LOT. What are you going to do, sit there on the side lines? NOT do anything?

"Hey, you lot!" You march up to the insulters out of your hiding place. "What do you think you're doing, insulting one of my acolytes?"

This gets the gossipers to shut up immediately. They are shivering as they hear your voice, flaring with anger and hatred to the bone.

"Y-Your Grace! We were just...uhm—just...commenting! Yes, just commenting on, uh—"

"Shut up. This. INSTANT!" Your voice rings out through the street of Mondstadt. Sucrose's eyes were wide as she sees you, the Almighty Creator, stand up for her. "DO THIS AGAIN, AND I WILL SLIT YOUR THROAT OUT, YOU HEAR ME?"

Yeah, the gossipers are getting absolute PSTD from this. They are never recovering from this incident. Sucrose, upon hearing the threat, quickly runs up to you, to hold you back from actually hurting them.

Yes, you were raising your fists. Who wouldn't want to punch them? They were acting ignorant!

"P-please, Your Grace! Let's not get violent!" Sucrose tries to persuade you from not doing anything murderous—she doesn't want to have to report to the Knights of Favonius that the Creator themself has committed first-degree murder on the streets right before her eyes.

You sigh, relenting. You won't do it if Sucrose won't like it, but if anyone asked you, they absolutely deserved losing their vocal cords.

"Fine." You turn back to the gossipers, who were cowering on the table they were at. "You both, get out of here. If this happens again, I will do what I threatened to do. Or worse."

That's what gets the moving. After several panicked confirmations ("Yes, Your Grace!" "Understood, Your Grace!" "This won't happen again, Your Grace!"), they leave.

But if you were the one that got insulted? Sucrose would be so horrified of the audacity of these people! How could they say such things about the Creator?

She would be even more horrified to realize that you were there, hearing it all. So, instead of telling off the gossipers, she runs up to you to make sure you were okay. Your feelings matter more than those idiots!

"Your Grace, are you okay? I'm so sorry for what they're saying! Please know that they're not true!" She would say gently, and Sucrose would be ultimately surprised to see you actually pretty chill about the entire incident.

"Hm? Yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?—Oh, are you talking about those people over there?" You point at the gossipers, still insulting and calling you names. "Yeah, they're actually pretty amusing."

Shookth. That's what Sucrose's expression is. Absolute shock. You would expect someone like the Almighty Creator to be enraged or upset by this kind of behavior from your own people, but no, you're just sitting there, at a table near the Good Hunter, listening to some dudes piling up random trash on the table like it's some Live Soap Opera.

"U-uhm, pardon me, Your Grace...but are you not affected by what they're saying?" Sucrose can't help but be puzzled at your reaction. It's not exactly...what people would expect, you know?

"Nope, none. Anyways, I'm feeling up for a mushroom pizza—wanna come join me? It'll be on me~"

Sucrose blushes, her mind going frantic. Pizza, with the CREATOR THEMSELF?! But, if the creator wants her to join, she can't refuse!

"O-of course, Your Grace!"

"Alright then. SARA! YOU MIND IF YOU MAKE US A MUSHROOM PIZZA, PLEASE?" The moment you shout from your table, the gossipers turned pale. They look over at you and Sucrose.

That was the next gossip going on throughout the streets for the next few weeks. And you found that entire episode even more amusing.

Venti

This guy is honestly pretty used to insults, so hearing one of his own people call him names and insulting his skills as a bard, he just ignores them and goes on with his day.

However, today was different. He was inside the tavern when you stormed to the table where the insults were being piled up on.

"Ahem." Just by the sound of your voice, you can see the dudes trembling. You were that much of a scary character when you wanted to be. "What is the meaning of this?"

"A-ah! Your Grace, we were just placing opinions on a certain bard's skill in their music—"

"And how does insulting the bard himself have to do anything with their music taste?" you ask, voice ringing with anger. The bad mouthers were turning pale just by the tone you were using. If emotions could kill, your glare would have them drop dead in a heartbeat. Venti found that a little amusing, honestly.

"U-uhm, Your Grace, we can explain!" one of them quickly exclaims, trying to save their own skins. You glare down at them, not even budging in expression or movement.

"Perhaps I should call StormTerror and have your discarded bodies thrown into the ocean." Ayo, hold up! Venti nearly sweats his pants off. The Creator calling in his dear friend, Dvalin, just to kill like, 3 people that were badmouthing him?

As much as he wanted to see his buddy again, he does not like the situation as to why he was even here in Mondstadt again. And besides, these three were still children of Mondstadt! It's better if he steps in and saves them all.

"Yahoo! Your Grace!~ Come join me with for a lovely glass of wine!" He uses his cheekiness to get your attention, knowing the favoritism he'll get over the trio in their little corner.

You sigh. You were so close of letting loose your rage on these idiots, but alas, having fun with Venti outweighed dealing with smack talkers.

So, despite your urge to continue to scream bloody murder from the skies above, you joined Venti at his usual spot in front of the bartender. Venti can only smile as he manages to defuse the situation without making a bigger scene.

"So, Your Grace~ Care to hear this bard's next ballad dedicated to the Almighty Creator themself?" Purely distracts you before you can think more about the frustrating topic.

But when Venti hears someone smack talking about the Creator? Oh, it's really about to go down. Someone was really asking for a death wish. He can suddenly sympathize how much anger you could've felt when you heard other talking crap about him.

Until he sees you, chilling in the corner, listening in on the crap and looking like you would fall asleep at any given time. Venti was puzzled—has the Creator heard insults such as these before? He had to know.

So, disregarding the stupid and semi-drunk idiots, he runs up to you. The moment you see him, you were suddenly very much awake.

"Your Grace! I apologize for what those morons are saying—please, allow this humble bard to deal with them—" You wave him off, telling him to not bother. You tell him that it was actually pretty amusing, and sometimes really good background noise to help you sleep.

Now this dude is even more confused. How could insults be good background noise? How could the Creator themself be using that as a source to doze off to dreamland? It didn't make sense, but he suppose it'll be better for himself if he just left the question alone, never to be answered.

"Well, anyways, I'm up for a walk—you wanna come with?" Venti grins at the request. Spending time with the Creator? Of course he would join! He can brag about it all to the old block head in Liyue and the grumpy royal in Inazuma.

"Ehe, lead the way, Your Grace!" He says it loud enough to have the gossipers freeze and look over. They watch as you both leave the tavern to go on a walk.

Mission accomplished! Venti can live with that kind of revenge on the plate. It served them right to be scared.

Nahida

Okay, to make it more convenient for myself, let's have this take place before the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata was erased from Irmunsil. The traveler has managed to save Nahida from the sanctuary of Surasthana, and now we're basically at the part where Cyno meets Azar face to face.

You, quite literally, begged Cyno to let you join him—you were sick and tired of that old man that proclaimed himself to be he Grand Sage anyways.

Even without all the begging, Cyno would've let you follow him anyways. If Azar didn't think that the Dendro Archon could ever lay judgement on him, then let the Almighty Creator reign justice on him themself.

The moment you step into the sanctuary, however, you felt your blood boil. You remember playing through this darn quest and listened to all the crap this son of a dirt bag threw at the wholesome bean that is the Dendro Archon.

You knew what would happen, since you played through the entire quest. For some reason, Teyvat hasn't gone through this change, but you knew. In the end, Nahida was too merciful to the sages. And, let's be honest, who wouldn't want to throw a darn punch at this guy?

You let Cyno do most of the talking with Azar, enjoying how he was looking uneasy as you silently glared at him from the shadows. You can tell Nahida saw you, her eyes wide with awe and shock.

The moment Cyno slams down his polearm, you took it as your cue to come out of your hiding spot.

"And if you think you're leaving this place unharmed, you better think twice! I will claw off that smug face of yours if you think you would get away insulting that precious child!" You point at Nahida to make your statement very clear of who said-child was, in case Azar was stupid enough to think it was someone else.

The moment the (ex)Grand Sage saw you, you can see the literal fear dawning his very figure and eyes. Cyno had to hold you back with an arm on your shoulder because you were looking wayy too murderous than he thought you would be.

"Your Grace, please calm down!" As much as she hates what the sages and the Fatui did to the people of Sumeru, she didn't exactly want Azar dead.

Nahida is smart enough to speculate that if she interfered, maybe Cyno would be able to do his job for both she and the Almighty Creator before things escalate too quickly by Their Grace's divine hand.

As much as she loves you standing up to her, she really doesn't want things to get too bloody than it needs to be.

You glare at Azar one more time. Fine, if you can't have this son of a crap dead as a corpse, you would take some satisfaction in driving fear into him.

"You do this again, little old man, and I'll make sure you actually lose all that self-pride you have and oh-so cherish. Got it?" Even with confirmation, you wouldn't let this guy off the hook. You were that enraged with him.

But at least Nahida was out of her cage, so that's all that mattered.

"Don't worry, Your Grace! I won't let others do this again to me, I promise!" She reassures you that she will not have anyone trample all over her again, and you just couldn't help yourself but smile gently down at her. You know very well she wouldn't.

Alright, post-sumeru archon quest, Nahida is pretty much free to roam wherever she wants. She's pretty happy, until she hears a group of people huddling together talking bad about the Almighty Creator...

At first, she was surprised. Then she got upset and a little angry. Why would her people speak so ill of the Creator?

She literally nearly breaks when she sees you chilling at a different table at Puspa Cafe. She ran up to you, surprisingly, undetected by almost everyone she ran past.

You notice Nahida approaching, and welcome her with a warm smile and a wave, but dies away when she sees the sadness on her face.

"Your Grace! Please forgive my people for talking such false things about you!" She would exclaim, her eyes close to watering tears. While she doesn't like what she hears about you, she doesn't want her people hurt for such things they say.

"Oh—that's what you were concerned about?" you said, dumbly. You look over at the table that were still gossiping about you. "Nah, don't worry, Nahida—they're actually pretty funny."

That immediately gets Nahida spiraling down in confusion. Huh? How could such hurtful things be funny? Was the Almighty Creator very used to this kind of thing, or was it simply because they truly did find it amusing somehow?

"I'm sorry, Your Grace...but I don't really get what you mean." You shrug it off, telling her that's just how you roll. Besides, this was like a free, live time drama show! They were that amusing.

"Say, since we're sitting here in Puspa Cafe, how 'bout I treat you to some Padisarah Pudding and Candied Ajilenakh Nuts? It's all on me!" Yeah, you're pretty okay with spoiling Nahida with treats. Besides, cute bean was sad—you wanted to cheer her up!

When she agrees, you shout, "BOSS! MIND IF YOU GET ME TWO PADISARAH PUDDINGS AND A PLATE OF AJILENAKH NUTS?" And, much like what happened with Sucrose and the pizza, the gossipers freeze, turn pale, and look over.

They become even paler when they see the Dendro Archon herself sitting with the Almighty Creator, casually talking about random things.

"Your Grace, did you really fall from the sky as a shooting star to our world?" You and Nahida would continue talking about your origins and how you brought Teyvat to life from the storybook version, not knowing that the bad mouthers were having a existential crisis at their table.

AND THAT'S IT! I'M SORRY FISCHL, BUT I AM VERY TIRED—

I hope you guys enjoyed it though! See you around! :)

Ghost Rebel Side Note: This was WAYY longer than I thought it would be, holy cow- but at least it turned out okay? :') Boy, I am so tired lol- this took far too much energy than I thought it would. My motivation legit started plummeting when I got to Nahida—You can legit tell I had to reuse the cafe/restaurant scene from Sucrose into hers because my brain just died on me- But I do hope you guys still liked it! Especially you, Anon! I hope it was up to your standards :)

Check Out The Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

#sagau venti #sagau nahida #sagau genshin #sagau #sagau x reader #yandere sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #genshin self aware #self aware genshin #platonic genshin x reader #platonic #platonic genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #sagau sucrose #WHAT DO YOU MEAN SAGAU SUCROSE ISN'T A TAG????#sagau cyno

1K notes · View notes

kaydenverse · 1 year

Text

Needy

pairing: König x gn reader

18+ MINORS DNI

genre: absolute filth

word count: 814

content warnings: size kink, overstimulation, begging, uhh idk

a/n: woaahh using proper punctuation now anyways i’m deeply in love with könig like very deeply

“I’m sorry,” König pants has he desperately ruts his hips against yours. “I’m sorry Mein Liebling, you just feel so good I can’t stop.” he groans against your shoulder.

You whine out, high and loud, when he pins one of your wrists next to your head while his other hand grips your hip. He’s still careful to not lean too much of his weight on you despite his rough handling of you at the moment.

He’d never forgive himself if he ever hurt you more than you can handle even after telling him countless times that you truly don’t mind.

“König-!” Part of you wants to arch into him and beg him for more but another part of you also wants the mattress beneath you to open up and swallow you whole so you could catch a few seconds of peace, a moment to piece your thoughts back together, before König is prying open the jaws of the cushiony monster and diving in after you to jumble your head all over again.

“Shh shh, you can handle it.” König nearly chokes on a moan when you tug at the ginger hair on the back of his neck.

You turn your head to the side and squeeze your eyes shut. There’s too much of that wonderful feeling pulsing through your body and you kick one of your legs out as if that will extend some of the pleasure outside your body but you’re simply stuck with the overwhelming buzz. In fact, your squirming is making him get just the right angle.

you’re going to burst at the seams.

“Baby,” You whimper and yank his head back just enough so he can see your face. “Please I can't.” you whine yet make zero effort to stop him.

König shoves his face back into the crook of your neck. “I’m so close, you feel so good. Been thinking about this all day.” his whiny tone is almost competition with yours.

König had been so needy all day, so much so that Horangi definitely caught the several times the Austrian man had pulled you aside for a not so sneaky kiss or two… or three… Horangi did walk in on the two of you making out on the sparring mat after König had pinned you during a sparring match. The both of you quickly apologized and excused yourselves from the room with Horangi teasing the two of you on your way out.

A short walk to your room on base and an hour later he's made you cum three times already, twice with his mouth because he eats like a starved man and once with his fingers while forcing you to look directly into his chestnut colored eyes. You’re quickly approaching your fourth high as König fucks you as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“You’re so small.” König lets out a breathy laugh above you. “Yet here you are taking me so well aren’t you?” he leans his kissed raw lips closed to your ear and what he whispers makes your mind go blank.

“I could break you and you’d love it, meine liebe.”

König, your darling boyfriend who shyly asks to kiss you and gets flustered when you call him pretty. Your König who handcrafts you gifts to leave in your bed whenever you're away on missions. you two are so sweet to one another around others that no one would ever guess that you both shamelessly get off on threatening one another while you fuck.

And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

The moan that escapes you is loud and König has the audacity to laugh at you. “I’m, ooh-“ you’re hurdling over the edge before you can get the words out.

König’s rhythm falters as you completely come apart underneath him. You scratch at his broad shoulders and shake, your high so intense your lips part but no noise falls from them. The Austrian manages to slide out of your despite your legs trying to lock him in place and he spills his release all over your stomach, whimpering and whining. He adores seeing you covered in his mess.

You barely have time to recover before König is frantically kissing down your torso to lick him his mess. You stare at the ceiling and shiver at the sensation of your König lapping up every last drop of his own cum on your stomach. Just when you think he’s done, he’s kissing down farther and that causes you to snap your head up to look at him.

“baby, wait,” You tug at the hair on the top of his head which only earns you a pleased moan as he settles himself between your thighs again. “please I can’t” you whine but he sees right through your fake protest.

“You can,” König hoists your thighs over his shoulders yet again. “and you will.”

#könig x you #könig x reader #könig #könig smut #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #cod #cod smut #call of duty mwii #call of duty smut #könig call of duty #könig imagine #könig mw2 #kayden writes

2K notes · View notes

my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 18 days

Text

Let's Get Out Of Here

Jake Lockley x GN!Reader • Rating: M •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist• ko-fi •

Summary: You've met your Dad's best friend before.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: This one was so difficult.

Warnings: Implied sexy times, Reader has a sort of family backstory, Reader's Dad had Reader very young, Reader has a good relationship with their Dad, Jake being a flirt, swearing, overuse of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 776

“And this is Jake.”

Your smile freezes on your face as your Dad gestures to his aforementioned best friend. If it wasn’t for the grounding warmth of his hand on your arm you were sure you would have had an out of body experience.

Him.

Oh fuck.

How could it be him?

“Nice to finally meet you Jake.” You nod and shake his hand when he holds his out to you.

“Likewise.” His own smile is polite, tailored to a mask of neutrality that you can see through. He’s shitting himself just as much as you are.

Your Dad laughs, thankfully oblivious to the sudden tension in air. “I’m glad you two could finally meet.”

If it wasn’t for social norms you’d turn on your heels and just march right out of there. Maybe you could hide somewhere in the crowd.

Your Father and Step-Mother were renewing their vows, and were throwing an ‘engagement’ party of sorts.

They’d long ago moved out of the town you’d grown up in, as had you and sadly your new home was further away from them than you’d have liked. So you didn’t get to see them in person as much as you wanted to.

Jake had met your Dad about four years ago, the two becoming fast friends. From what your Dad had told you Jake travelled a lot, but when they did meet up they always got on like a house on fire. He was, as well, a little camera shy. Covering his face or ducking out of the way in group photos, so the most you’d ever seen of him was the arm of his leather jacket, a blurred cap, or the scruff of curls poking just into frame.

It had become a running joke that this ‘Jake’ was either imaginary, or a spy.

Your Dad had had you young, an accident that he always called ‘his greatest achievement’. Despite his youth and the barely sixteen years between you, he had been and was a wonderful father.

Someone calls your Dad’s name and he excuses himself quickly, darting off before you even have a chance to protest.

You look after him forlornly, your shoulders slumping.

Maybe running away wasn’t such a break of social norms.

“Hi.” Jake says softly, having taken a step closer.

You turn back to him. He’s shoved his hands in his pocket, looking down before giving you an uncertain smile.

You return the gesture.

“I’m so sorry-” You blurt out.

“I didn’t know you-” He starts at the same time.

You both laugh.

“What are the odds?” He says with a shrug.

“Well, I guess a fondness for you runs in the family?”

Jake pulls a face and you laugh.

“Don’t say that.” He grins.

You try and fail to hide your smile. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Maybe… if I’d told you my name?”

“Well,” you shift your weight, relaxing a little. “I didn’t tell you mine either.”

“We were a little preoccupied.”

“Hmm.” You nod and close your eyes for a second to let the wave of embarrassment pass. “The first time yeah… but I think by the sixth we probably should have.”

He laughs again. It’s a musical sound, deep and rich. Calming in its certainty. “What did you save my number as?”

Heat burns a little under your skin. “Pretty guy.”

“Pretty guy?” His eyebrows raise, but not in upset, just surprise.

“Yeah, well,” you pull a face. “You’re pretty and a guy, so…”

He puffs his chest out a little, leaning a fraction closer. “You think I’m pretty.” He teases.

You give him a sincere look. “I think you’re beautiful.”

The honesty gives him pause for just a beat before he quickly recovers. “Says you.”

“Says me?”

“Yeah, says you. You’re stunning.” He lightly touches your forearm, his fingertips just ghosting over your skin.

You swallow, trying not to get lost in his eyes. “Shut up. What do you have me saved as then?”

He grins, not breaking eye contact for a moment before he pulls out his phone and shows you your contact information. There’s a single red heart emoji listed as your name.

“I didn’t take you as a romantic.” You tease.

He chuckles, leaning close and whispering in your ear. “Haven’t been treating you right then, have I?” He softly brushes the tip of his nose along your ear and you shiver. “Let me show you just how romantic I can be?”

He leans back just enough for you to see his expression, the question in his dark eyes as he nods his head towards the venue doors.

You grin. “Let’s get out of here.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight mcu #jake lockley x reader #x reader #jake lockley x you #x you #jake lockley x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #jake lockley x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

173 notes · View notes

prettyinpurplelights · 1 year

Note

hii ur writing is SOO SOO good im practically going insane over ur mbappe writings. could u pls write smth about mbappe being sick and reader having to take care of him but he's just enjoying being a brat and clinging to reader ? like imagine taking care of this manchild. imagine the HAVOC he would wreck if he didn't get a kiss from his gf

HOUR OF NEED

Heyy, thank you for your lovely words, means so much 🫶🏿 hope this is okay!

“You’re leaving me here all by myself? This is your fault.” Your boyfriend sniffles, pouting as you put on your jacket, ready to leave the house.

“I warned you about kissing me last week when I was sick.”

“But your mouth was so nice and warm.”

“And now here we are.”

“So you’re going to abandon me in my hour of need?”

“Kylian, it’s just a cold. You’ll survive.” You roll your eyes.

“I hope you know those may be your last words to me. Ever! Who knows if I’ll still be alive and breathing when you get back.” He shivers dramatically and you grab your bag, placing your phone in your coat pocket.

“I spent all day yesterday playing nurse Ky, I have to go to the office.”

“And you think if nurses just left their patients before they got better, anyone would recover?”

“You are a ridiculous man Kylian Mbappe. You have a runny nose and a high temperature, just keep hydrated and take your pills. I’ll see you at 6.” You reach over to kiss his forehead and he rolls over and pulls the covers high over his head.

“You don’t deserve to kiss me.” His voice his muffled under the blankets and you laugh.

“Whatever you big baby.” You call as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

————

“So if we push the campaign from this angle, I think the overall engagement would-“

PING!

Your phone buzzes for the hundredth time in the last 10 minutes since you started giving your pitch to the newest clients at your firm. You reach for your phone to turn it off, apologising profusely, when it starts ringing and you see your boyfriend’s face lighting up the screen.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this very quickly, I really apologise.” You hold your hands in a prayer sign before scrambling out of the office with the phone to your ear.

“Kylian, what the hell do you want.”

“Y/N…” his voices sounds strained and breathless, and you immediately begin to worry.

“Kyky? Baby what’s wrong?”

“I just…can you…” He coughs violently and you wince. He really doesn’t sound good, and you feel start to feel a little guilty for leaving him alone. “Can you…come home please? E…Emergency.” He croaks out that last part, as though he doesn’t have the energy to do anything else.

“Oh baby. I’ll be there as soon as I can okay? I’m sorry for not taking you seriously. I’m leaving the office as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” he breathes before hanging up abruptly and you think the absolute worst. Maybe it wasn’t just a cold, maybe it was something worse, and now he’s alone and confused and deteriorating. You head back into the conference room, chewing on the inside of your cheek anxiously.

“Everything okay Y/N?” Your boss asks.

“Yes, ummm, it’s just my boyfriend is really ill right now, and he’s just called me and he doesn’t sound too good so I’m a bit worried that’s all. But we can get this pitch finished up and I’ll go and quickly see him on my lunch break-“

“Kylian is ill?” He says, shocked as if you’d just told him his own mother on was on her death bed. “Oh no, you must go to him right away. We have the PowerPoint and your notes, Lisa can finish your pitch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes of course, I hope he makes a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you so much, and I really am sorry.” You disconnect your laptop from the hdmi cable connected to the project and slide it into your handbag.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, please let us know how he’s doing tomorrow, you don’t have to come in if he’s still not feeling well.” He smiles. You thank him one last time before rushing out of the office and down to the elevator to the underground car park. You barely lock your seatbelt in place before hightailing it out of the building.

“Kylian!” You yell as soon as you make it back into the apartment. You drop your bag at the door and hurry up the steps, taking them two at time. It’s not long before you’re bursting into the bedroom. “Ky, baby what’s wrong? Have your symptoms gotten worse?” You sit on the bed, taking his sweaty face into your hands. “I’m sorry for leaving you baby.”

“You’re back.” He croaks.

“Of course,” you sigh leaning in to kiss him and he lets you this time. “What was so urgent?”

“I…the bistro is out of chicken soup and I really want some chicken soup, I was wondering if you could make some for me please?” You drop his head, and he falls back onto the pillow violently.

“Ouch!” He moans, rubbing his head.

“Kylian…” you close your eyes, your right hand pressing on the bridge of your nose. “Kylian, do not tell me you pulled me out of work because you want FUCKING SOUP!”

“I missed you too?” He pouts.

“Kylian! I was in an important meeting with my boss!”

“The one that’s the PSG fan? I’ll have someone send him some tickets to our next game, he’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes.

“Of course that’s why he let me leave the office without hesistation….but that’s not the point Ky!”

“Look babe, I’m sorry for making you leave work.” He doesn’t look sorry in the slightest and it pisses you off even more. “But I mean…you’re here now? So…”

“So???”

He opens his arms, his eyes wide as he smiles. “Come spend the day in bed with me.” You throw a pillow at him, landing in the space his open arms created, before storming out of the room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out.

“To make YOUR FUCKING SOUP!“ you shout back. “Tu es un putain d’idiot!”

———

You feel someone’s arms wrap around you as you’re stirring the soup and you shrug your shoulders.

“Get off me Kylian.” You mumble.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks, holding you tighter as he presses a kiss into your neck.

“Kylian Mbappe Lottin, I’m within an arms reach of very sharp objects. Get the fuck off me.”

“No.” He insists, burying his head further into your neck. “I want to hug you. I read somewhere hugs and kisses when you’re sick are very healing.” He moves from behind you to stand by your side, his arms around your shoulders instead, leaning forward with his eyes closed and lips pursed. You shove the teaspoon you were using to taste the soup into his mouth instead and push him off you as you untie your apron and place it on the work surface.

“You can keep your kisses. I’m not trying to get sick again.”

“You kissed me earlier when you came back?”

“Yeah when I thought you were on your death bed you manipulative man child.”

“Oh Y/N, come on!” He whines, stomping his feet. “I’m not a baby.” You look at his stomping foot and raise an eyebrow. He stops and his lips turn up in a little smile. “Okay fine, maybe I am a baby. But I’m your baby. And your baby is sick and needs you. He needs your kisses. Desperately or he might drop to the floor right now.”

“Drop. I don’t care, I’m not kissing you.”

“But I said I’m sorry!” He groans.

“And you’re forgiven. But I’m not kissing you. I don’t want to get sick again.”

“Actually,” he says, coming up to you as you reach into a cabinet above the sink to grab two bowls. “Since I caught this cold from you, it’s the same strain, and you can’t catch a cold twice with the same strain of virus. So you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“And since when did you become Dr. Mbappe.”

“I did some reading in the 3 hours you abandoned me.” You slide past him and start serving up the soup in the bowls.

“Good for you.”

He takes the bowls from you and sets them on the island before backing you up against the counter. The blanket around his shoulders falls to the floor as he rests his arms either side of you on the granite worktop, trapping your body between his.

“Just one kiss.” He whispers against your lips, his face barely an inch from yours. “Please. Just one.”

“Fine.” You press your lips against his lightly, ready to pull away but his hands cage your face, and he presses his lips harder against yours, deepening the kiss. You both pull away eventually breathless, your hand around his neck.

“Better?” You ask in a low voice.

“I’m cured.” He murmurs, before he suddenly recoils and sneezes all over your face.

“DUDE!” You shout, pushing him away as you reach for a tissue.

“Well, almost cured.” He laughs, stopping when he sees your stone cold expression, your eyes shooting daggers at him. You shove his bowl of soup into his chest and go to sit on the sofa with yours. You soon feel Kylian snuggle up next to you, lying down dramatically with his hand over his forehead.

“I suddenly feel weak and dizzy, I don’t think I can hold myself up Y/N.”

“What? You want me to feed you the soup now?”

“If you insist.” He smirks.

“You are unbelievable,” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too as you pick up the bowl and hold a spoonful to his lips.

“I also think a kiss in between each spoonful will really help speed up my recovery process.” He nods as he slurps the soup from the spoon.

“You know what, you should legally change your name to Mbaby.”

“Haha funny.” He retorts. He points to the soup, then his lips before opening his mouth wide. You intentionally put the bowl down and pull out your phone, flipping the camera to selfie mode and holding it up so both you and Kylian are in the frame simultaneously.

“Look at this big baby here,” You start, as you press the live option on your instagram. “Big boy Kylian Mbappe lying here while I feed him soup because he’s got a little cold he can’t handle.” Kylian reaches up to grab your phone but you leap from the sofa to the other side of the coffee table.

“Y/N, turn it off.”

“Oh look,” you say into the camera. “Suddenly he has the energy to get up. You should’ve seen him merely a few seconds ago guys, acting as though he had the plague.”

“Y/N, I’m warning you.”

You laugh as you read some of the comments from the fans on your live, getting louder as you see one from his teammate.

“Ky, Achraf said stop being such a pussy!”

“That’s it!” Kylian says before leaping over the table, but you’re a tad quicker than he is, dodging his lunge and making a break for it into the kitchen. “Cut the live Y/N, or I swear-“

“Or what?” You taunt, flipping the camera so it’s facing him as he stares you down from the other end of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You quickly slip through the door and up the steps before he can reach you, but Kylian proves himself to be one of the fastest men in the world once again because he’s grabbing onto your shirt just as you reach the top of the steps pulling you to the floor, his full weight on top of you as you raise your arm as high as you can out of his reach.

“Okay guys, I have to go, it’s time to feed baby Kyky his cough syrup.” You say just as Kylian grabs the phone out of your hand and turns it off.

“Looks like you’re suddenly feeling better hmm?” You tease, laughing.

“You…” He starts but his sentence trails and he pulls the blanket over his mouth before sneezing into it loudly. He sniffs, rolling over so he’s lying next to you, wheezing and breathless. “You’re so lucky I’m ill. Once this cold is gone, you’re dead.”

———

Tried to make it a bit fluffy, I feel like it probably wasn’t that fluffy aksjsksk enjoy ! <3

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fic #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #mbappe fic #mbappe x reader #football fanfic #footballer x reader #mbappe #kylian mbappé #mbappe fanfic #mbappé #football imagine #kylian mbappe imagine #mbappe imagine

2K notes · View notes

matchingbatbites · 1 month

Text

You know how sometimes you think of a scene that belongs in a long fic, so you write the fic just so you can share that scene that started it all? I had one of those scenes come to me today, but you're not getting a full fic. Eddie is caught posing as Princess Nancy and is brought before Prince Steve.

Steven is going over the plans for the kingdom's expansion when the door slams open and Thomas and Jason step through. They appear furious, and held between them is Nancy, only- only she's half dressed, and she appears to be a he.

“What's the meaning of this?” Steven asks as he steps around the table, and the two men throw their captive to the ground before him. He crumples in a heap but still attempts to right his clothes where they've been torn from his person, trying to recover a bit of modesty.

“This imposter,” Thomas spits, “has been deceiving you. Carol saw him in the bath yesterday and discovered his truth. He's been posing as princess Nancy for his own sick gain and he must be properly punished for this indiscretion.”

“He should be hanged for it,” Jason says, his tone full of venom. Said imposter looks up, clearly terrified at the possibility, and his eyes plead with Steve as he says “My lord, please-”

“Silence!” Steven snaps, and all three go quiet. He looks between Thomas and Jason before giving the command of “Leave us. Now.”

The two men nod and each shoot the stranger a vile look before they exit the room. The prince stares down at the man, at this charlatan brought before him, and can only feel a sense of betrayal from someone he'd quickly grown to care for.

“Explain.”

The man takes a shaky inhale before he begins. “My name is Eddie- Edward. Nancy is my half-sister. When she received the news of her betrothal to you, she was concerned about your character. There were- rumors. I volunteered to take her place, to learn your true nature so she could make an informed decision about your union without having to abandon her duties.”

He looks properly ashamed of his actions, but it doesn't stop Steven's heart from breaking. Instead of falling in love with Nancy over these last weeks, he'd fallen for a farce, a sham.

“What was your plan for after? If you'd decided I was acceptable for her?”

Eddie hesitates, but says “She was going to return herself and reveal the truth to you.”

“And what? Pray that I wouldn't take offense to being tested?” He scoffs, and Eddie winces at the sound.

“Thomas and Jason were right,” Steven says, unable to keep the hurt from bleeding into his voice. “You were lying to me.”

The man looks up at him, his gaze open and pleading once more. “Only about my intentions. I swear to you, where my feelings are concerned, I've only ever spoken the truth. I'm- I was never supposed to fall for you myself.”

It echoes what Eddie-as-Nancy told him the other night as they walked through the gardens, the soft ‘I do believe I'm falling for you, your majesty,’ meant only for Steven and the roses and the stars. He thinks about the hours, the days he's spent with this person. With this man, who has shown Steven a mere glimpse of the love he's always dreamed of.

“This plot is the most foolish, most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of,” Steve says, and Eddie's head drops with a sob. Steve feels weak at the sound, and he falls to his knees before Eddie. He takes the man's hands in his own, and shining brown eyes look up at him in disbelief.

“But I would be truly foolish to let you go. All I've wanted in life is for someone to love me for my truest self. You’ve shown me a future where that desire is not just a dream.”

Eddie sobs again as Steven pushes a hand into those wild curls and tugs him closer, resting their foreheads together. “Sorry- I'm so sorry-” he stutters, and Steve shakes his head.

#there are so many details i thought of that just didn't fit into this snippet #just needed to get it out of my brain #steddie #royalty au #joey writes #steve x eddie #ficlet #steddie ficlet

170 notes · View notes

justabigassnerd · 1 year

Text

I'm Right Here

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 3,515

Warnings - mentions of kidnappings, angst, but mostly fluff/comfort

Summary - You wander off during Maverick's volleyball match sending both you and him into a panic

A/N - it's a Maverick fic y'all!!!! I really enjoyed getting to explore what Mav would be like as a father, especially during the events of '86 Top Gun and I've also learnt that writing Goose and Mav's dynamic is my new favourite thing I love them. This was a request I was sent in and I hope I did it justice! I also just wanna say that watching the volleyball scene back showed me that they weren't actually on the beach so I set it kinda near the beach but not at the beach if that makes sense? Anyways I'll stop rambling now. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

“Alright squirt, are you ready to see me and Uncle Goose beat Ice and Slider in volleyball?” Maverick asks with a grin as he scoops you up, making you squeal happily as you hug your dad tightly.

“Uncle Ice!” You cheer happily, excited at the thought of seeing Iceman. Maverick chuckles lightly at your words.

“You’re well on your way to breaking Goose’s heart, darling.” Maverick laughs before pressing a kiss to your temple. Since moving to Miramar to attend Top Gun, you’d decided Iceman was one of your new favourite people and Maverick saw how Ice looked out for you and appreciated it, regardless of their rivalry. Now, it meant that Goose was facing competition for the title of best uncle and Maverick thought it was hilarious.

“Let’s make sure we have everything packed so we can go to the beach once we’re done.” Maverick says and the second the beach is mentioned, you’re squirming to get out of his arms to gather the things you want to take with you to the beach. Maverick grabs a bag and lets you pack what you want while he packs some food to take to the beach. Once the bag is packed, Maverick helps you put your shoes on and as he straightens up and slings the bag over his shoulder, a knock at the door rings out.

“Hey, Goose.” Maverick greets his RIO with a smile as he opens the door.

“Hey, Mav.” Goose beams, giving Maverick a high-five as you notice Goose’s presence.

“Uncle Goose!” You yell excitedly, running to him as quickly as your legs could take you.

“Hey, pipsqueak! How’s my favourite Mitchell doing?” Goose says as he picks you up when you hold your arms up. Goose laughed when he saw Maverick’s narrowed eyes at his question.

“Those are brave words coming from someone whose position of favourite uncle is being threatened by Iceman.” Maverick says cockily as he slips his aviators on and grabs his keys before he brushes past Goose to exit the house, leaving Goose shocked as you giggled at his expression. Maverick would usually take his motorbike to the volleyball court but with you coming too he opted to walk instead. He didn’t live too far from the court and Goose offered to walk with you, so it was decided that the trio would walk.

“Mav is that- y/n, you prefer Uncle Goose to Iceman, right?” Goose asks desperately, maybe too desperately given that he was begging for approval from a three-year-old but being your godfather and had been your favourite uncle since you were born, he was willing to fight to hold on to that title.

“I love Uncle Goosey!” You say with a grin, making Goose nod in approval as he follows Maverick down the path.

“And I love Uncle Ice.” You admit which makes Maverick double over laughing when Goose’s smile drops from his face instantly. He quickly recovers and smiles at you once more.

“You’re going to break hearts when you’re older.” Goose says with a chuckle as you gesture that you want to be put down.

“We are not thinking about that Goose, stop talking.” Maverick says quickly, covering Goose’s mouth to stop him from talking any more. You were barely three years old, and Maverick was already dreading the day you’d grow up and start dating. As the three of you walked to the volleyball court, you kept running ahead, distracted by your surroundings and as Maverick turned his attention back to you, he found you almost wandering off.

“y/n/n, come here please!” He calls for you and you run right back to him. Maverick knelt down just before you reached him and he took your small hands in his.

“You can’t wander off, sweetheart, okay? Make sure you’re always in my sight, or Uncle Goose’s. Does that sound okay?” Maverick asks, his eyes searching yours as you nod.

“Okay, daddy.” You say with a large Cheshire cat grin that Maverick can’t help but mirror. Maverick then stands up to his full height and takes your hand once more, continuing the walk. When the three of you reach the court, you see Iceman and immediately, run up to him, demanding you get a hug as you greet him and of course, Iceman complies. As Iceman gives you a hug, Slider gives you a high-five, both men doting on you as Maverick puts the bag down and takes his jacket and top off, ready to play volleyball.

“Iceman, Slider, I thought we were here to play volleyball not to fawn over my kid.” Maverick calls over to the two as he puts his shirt and jacket on the bleachers that the bag is sitting next to.

“Don’t be jealous just because you’re not the centre of attention, Maverick.” Slider taunts as Iceman places you back on the floor, letting you run back over to Maverick who scoops you up and sits you on the bottom bleacher, next to the bag and his shirt and jacket.

“You stay right here and guard my stuff okay kiddo?” Maverick asks with a smile as Goose ruffles your hair lightly. You nod at Maverick’s words and attempt to slide Maverick’s jacket on, both of you laughing at the sheer size of it compared to you.

“It’ll fit you one day, kid.” Maverick grins, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he and Goose cross to the court to begin the match against Iceman and Slider.

At first, you watched the match diligently. You laughed when your dad and Goose would happily celebrate scoring a point with a double high-five. Your attention slowly slipped away from the match and onto your dad’s jacket you since had taken off, tracing the images on the patches until something fluttered past you, tearing your attention away from the jacket completely. You see a small bird staring at you, head tilting as it flicks its tail. Entranced by the bird you hopped off the seat and walked towards it. The bird fluttered away slightly before landing back on the ground again, turning back to face you and flicking its tail once more, seemingly instigating a game of cat and mouse. You continue to follow the bird, giggling as it flies a few meters away and yet still turns to see if you are following it. After a while, you and the bird came to a standstill, staring at each other and as you waved at it, the bird hopped a little closer to you, inspecting you curiously as it chirped, flicked its tail once more and then finally took off into the sky. You watched it fly high into the sky, waving goodbye at it as it joined its fellow birds who soared in the sky with it. When you finally tore your eyes away from the birds in the sky, you looked around you and had a sudden and horrible realisation that you had no idea where you were, or where your dad was.

Back at the volleyball court, the aviators had just wrapped up their match, with Iceman and Slider securing a strong victory as they celebrated loudly. Maverick had grumbled about how he was going to beat Iceman and win the Top Gun trophy to prove that this volleyball match meant nothing. When he approached the bleacher to grab his shirt and jacket so he could go to the beach with you and Goose where you’d meet with Carole and Bradley. When he reached the bleacher, he noticed that you were nowhere to be seen. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked around as he pulled on his shirt and tugged his jacket on, the panic in his eyes hidden by his aviators.

“Goose, have you seen y/n?” Maverick says when he senses the presence of his RIO, turning to face him. Maverick’s worry only increases when Goose shakes his head.

“Last time I saw her you sat her here before the match.” Goose’s response made Maverick’s breath hitch in his throat. He felt panic rising within him as he looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere. Having heard Maverick’s panicked breaths, Goose placed his hands on his pilot's shoulders, getting Maverick’s focus on him.

“Mav, we’re going to find her, okay? She can’t have gotten far. We’ll find her.” Goose said reassuringly. As a father, Goose understood Maverick’s panic. There was one time Goose lost sight of Bradley in a store and Goose nearly had an aneurysm thinking someone had taken him. Thankfully, he found Bradley in the sweet aisle, his little hands grabbing at as many colourful packets as he could. Goose had never felt a relief quite like finding Bradley again and he scooped his son up in his arms and held him tight, instructing him to never do that again. Iceman and Slider, noticing the panic between Maverick and Goose, came jogging over to the two after throwing their shirts on.

“What’s going on?” Iceman asks, eyebrow raised as he glances between Goose and Maverick as he tries to assess the situation.

“We can’t find y/n.” Goose says, hardly removing his focus from Maverick so he could focus on keeping Maverick from hyperventilating. At Goose’s words, Iceman and Slider exchanged a worried look before turning back to Goose.

“Come on Slider. We’ll look around for her.” Iceman says to Goose who nods quickly before resuming his focus on Maverick. The pilot and RIO duo take off in a random direction, calling your name and looking around for you or anyone who might’ve seen you. Meanwhile, Goose was still focusing on keeping Maverick with a clear head so he could focus on finding his daughter.

“Deep breaths, Mav. We can ask around while Ice and Slider look for her.” Goose says as Maverick takes his aviators off, wiping at his eyes fiercely.

“What if someone took her? Or she gets hurt? I can’t lose my little girl, Goose.” Maverick says worriedly, more tears working their way down his cheeks.

“We’ll find her. Come on, let’s ask around and see if anyone has seen what direction she went off in.” Goose says with a gentle smile, encouraging Maverick to follow him so the pair could ask fellow navy personnel if they had seen where you might’ve gone.

You were still confused and lost. You hadn’t moved from where you realised you were lost, too scared to move so you stayed put, bawling your eyes out as you hoped your dad would find you. There was no one around to help you. In your fear, you sat on the floor, not knowing what else to do other than cry.

“y/n! y/n, where are y-” Iceman cut himself off when you came into his line of sight. Your head shot up at hearing Iceman’s voice, but your cries didn’t slow.

“Ice!” You managed to cry out as the blond pilot ran over to you, kneeling down and assessing you for any injuries before you threw yourself into his arms, tears pouring down your face.

“Slider, go and get Maverick, now.” Iceman instructs his RIO as you bury your face in his shoulder. Slider nods and without hesitation turns to run back in the direction of the volleyball court to track down Maverick.

“I want my daddy.” You whimper into Iceman’s shoulder as he moves to hug you.

“I know sweetheart. Slider’s gone to find your dad, okay? They’ll be here soon.” Iceman whispers reassuringly, glancing around as if that would bring Maverick to you quicker. You hadn’t wandered massively far from the court, but Iceman understood that what is a simple path to him would not be the same to a three-year-old. After a couple of minutes of Iceman whispering words of reassurance and promising you that your dad is coming, Maverick appears with Goose and Slider hot on his heels.

“Daddy!” You cry out when you see Maverick, quickly wiggling out of Iceman’s arms and into Maverick’s as he bends down to pick you up, setting you on his hip as you cry against his shoulder. Maverick allowed tears of his own to fall as he let out a shuddering breath of relief when he felt your tiny arms wind around his neck.

“I got you; y/n/n. Daddy’s got you.” Maverick whispered as he pressed repeated kisses to your temple as you cried, clinging to him. Maverick’s free hand came up to rest on the back of your head, running a hand through your hair as you sobbed in relief.

“I was scared.” You whine, making Maverick’s heart break as more tears roll down his cheeks at your words.

“I know sweetheart. But I’m right here. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” Maverick assures, squeezing you tighter before pressing more kisses to the side of your head. Just as Iceman and Slider went to leave, Maverick turned to face them.

“Thank you.” Maverick says to the two who nod their heads in acknowledgement at his words.

“No worries, Mitchell.” Iceman says, the two men now seeing each other in a whole new light. Iceman was now seeing a devoted father who would do anything for his daughter instead of the reckless and cocky aviator he saw at Top Gun. While Maverick was now seeing someone who dropped everything to look for a kid that wasn’t his and without being asked instead of seeing the man who lectured him after every training session for flying dangerously. After sharing a curt nod with Maverick; Iceman and Slider headed back to the volleyball court, leaving Maverick and Goose with you.

“I think we’re going to head home, Goose. Just let Carole and Bradley know we’ll catch up with them another day.” Maverick says to Goose who nods in understanding.

“No! I wanna see Brad!” You exclaim tearily when you hear what your dad says, pulling away to look your dad in the eye. Maverick raised an eyebrow curiously while he lifted a hand to wipe your tears away.

“We don’t have to go to the beach sweetheart.” Maverick says, worried that you’d either wander off again or felt you had to go just because Bradley was going too.

“I wanna see Brad and Auntie Carole.” You whine, burying your face in the crook of your dad’s neck as he looks over at Goose who shrugs.

“Your call, Mav.” Goose says, not wanting to intervene. Maverick turned his head to look at you as you pulled away again, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could as Maverick cursed internally. He could never say no to your puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, we’ll go to the beach with the others. But you are to stay in my sight at all times.” Maverick instructs, his expression conveying every ounce of seriousness that he could as you nod, understanding every word he said clearly. Maverick glances over at Goose and gestures for them to head back to the volleyball court to gather up the beach stuff before heading down to the beach. You refuse to let your dad put you down so Goose takes the bag and the three of you begin the short walk to the beach. When you reach the beach, Goose crosses to his wife quickly and captures her in a sweet kiss before sweeping Bradley up into a hug. Just as Goose puts Bradley down, he quietly explains to Carole what had happened earlier and she felt her heart break for the Mitchell’s knowing how terrifying the thought of losing a child was. Carole immediately moved to speak to Maverick as he attempts to lay out a beach towel while keeping you in his arms.

“Hey Mav, how’s she doing?” Carole asks sweetly as she helps Maverick lie out the towel and smiling at you as you wave at her.

“She’s pretty shaken up. I also feel like I gotta buy Ice’s drinks for the rest of his life for finding her.” Maverick admits with a slight chuckle as he moves to carefully sit down, freeing one of his hands to ease himself down.

“She’s not hurt physically either, thank god.” Maverick says as you settle yourself into his lap, your once teary eyes lighting up when you see Bradley come running over. Goose sets down another towel alongside Maverick’s and sits down on it, opening his arms and gesturing for Carole to sit in between his legs which she does with a laugh, snuggling back into his chest. Once Bradley has dropped his toys on his parent’s towel he launched at you for a hug, pushing you into Maverick as he dramatically fell onto his back, causing a pile of children on his chest as he wraps his arms around the both of you.

“Uncle Mav! y/n!” Bradley giggles, wrapping his arms around you in a hug you reciprocate a bright grin covering your face.

“Hey, kiddo.” Maverick says, ruffling Bradley’s hair as he swats at his hand, protesting loudly as you giggle. When Bradley finally clambers off, Maverick sits up, adjusting you so you’re sat in his lap once more as Bradley rushes to his parents, his little hands digging through Carole’s beach bag to find his bucket and spade.

“y/n, do you want to build a sandcastle with me?” Bradley asks, his eyes shining with glee as he grins at you. At first, you don’t respond, wrapping your arms around Maverick and cuddling into him.

“Oh, y/n might not be in the mood to build sandcastles right now, buddy.” Goose says, noticing your reaction and looking over at his son who looks between you and his dad curiously.

“Why not?” The five-year-old enquires, not understanding why you didn’t want to join in on building sandcastles.

“She’s just a bit tired, sweetheart. But you can build sandcastles if you want.” Carole says, smiling sweetly at her son.

“But it’s no fun without y/n.” Bradley whines, his bottom lip jutting out as he complains.

“Bradley, come on buddy, you have plenty of time to build sandcastles with y/n another day.” Goose says, trying to lighten his son’s dampening mood. Noticing Bradley insist that building sandcastles is better with you, you feel more in the mood to build sandcastles with Bradley. But you were also terrified to be out of your dad’s arms in fear he’d disappear and you’d be alone again. Maverick noticed you looking at Bradley and loosening your grip on him so he looked down at you with a gentle smile.

“You want to play with Bradley, sweetheart?” He asks, giving you the freedom to decide whether you wanted to or not.

“Yes, but I don’t want to be far away from you.” You admit, looking down at the towel and Maverick’s face softens as he moves to hook a finger under your chin to lift it so you’d look at him.

“I got an idea.” Maverick says with a small smirk. He shuffles forward on the towel until he’s right at the end of the towel, barely sitting on the towel. He then stands you on the sand, still holding your hand as he reaches his spare hand back to the bag to dig out your bucket and spade, handing them to you with a smile.

“Okay, take two steps forward.” He says and you do as he asks, looking back at him after each step to check he’s still there and to your relief he is, grinning at you.

“There we go! You’re doing so well! Now, hold your hand out towards me.” Maverick then instructs gently, waiting for you to do as he asked and when you do, he reaches out and takes your hand in his.

“See that? If you feel worried while you’re building your sandcastles you can just reach for me and I’ll grab your hand, yeah? But if it feels like too much you can always come and just cuddle and chill out with me.” Maverick says, making sure you know you have options as he speaks and to his joy, you nod and immediately kneel down in the sand with Bradley and begin making sandcastles.

“You’re good with her Mav.” Carole says with a smile as the parents watch their kids playing in the sand.

“This was a win-win for us. She didn’t want to be too far away from me and I wanted her in my sight. It seemed like the best solution.” Maverick shrugs as if what he did wasn’t a big deal, barely glancing Carole’s way as he focuses his attention on his daughter, waiting to see if you reach out for him. Every time you looked over at him to make sure he was still there, he was sure to send you an encouraging smile and took your hand whenever you asked for it. But mostly you were kept occupied by Bradley, the two of you building rows of sandcastles and decorating them as you happily chat with each other.

“Twenty bucks says these two get married when they’re older.”

“GOOSE!”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun fic #top gun 1986 #pete maverick mitchell #maverick #pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x y/n #pete mitchell x daughter reader #maverick x reader #maverick x daughter!reader #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x daughter!reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell #pete 'maverick' mitchell x reader #pete 'maverick' mitchell x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader

1K notes · View notes

coryosbaby · 7 months

Text

Come back to me, please !

Fandom: “Queen of the Damned”

Pairing: Sub! Lestat De Lioncourt x fem! Reader

Synopsis: You return to your lover.

Cw: blood drinking, nsfw . handjobs, p n v, riding, creampie, cockwarming

A bath.

A bubble bath, to be exact— equipped with strawberry scented soap, rose petals and epsom salts. Lestat, there, at the far corner of the large tub. And your robe, with a soft flourish, dropping to the floor.

Your long lost love, beautiful & almost god like, was hard to find. But after all these years, he’s finally come home to you.

His eyes are glazed, playful. He watches as you step inside the tub. Naked, you’re the most beautiful thing Lestat has ever seen. Sitting down at the opposite end of him, you turn the lights in the room down with a flick of your wrist.

“The roses are a nice touch,” Lestat teases to you. A small smirk plays on his lips. “Always.. extra. As usual.”

“And you’ve missed it?”

Of course he has. He’s missed every single part of you. Most of all, the spot between your legs— the spot that’s hidden under crimson petals.

“I may have.”

The water rushes. Lestat leans forward, beginning to crawl to you. A predator catching his prey, almost. But you know that’s not why he’s approaching you.

He wants to be the hunted. He wants you to take control, as you always have.

His body, perfectly lean and pale, leans into you. His breath is hot on your lips, as he sits on his knees. You smirk, watching as his eyes beg to touch you. He can feel your blood rushing— pump, pump, pump. His favorite meal. He leans in, fangs brushing over your neck. But you tsk, and grasp his hair firmly in your hands. You pull him away.

“I don’t think so,” you say. “What have you done to deserve this, Lestat?”

He exhales heavily, and when your thumb brushes against his bottom lip he nicks it with his teeth.

“I’ve waited for you,” he states. “I’ve waited all this time…”

He breathes you in. Watches the way your face looks incredibly pleased.

“Please, my love.”

And oh, when he begs. Perfect, silky and angelic toned in such a way that is not him. So eager, so needy…

You hesitate for a moment, but alas you can’t say no to him.

“Only a little.” You warn.

The answer has him keening against you, smiling as his hands pull your head to the side. And with spit slick lips he sinks his fangs into you. Your eyes roll back, a gasp leaving your lips as he suckles from your jugular. While most are pained when fed, the feeling of Lestat being inside you in more ways than one has you moaning and pleading for him to drain the life from your eyes.

“Oh, gods…”

Your vision gets blurry, and with a shaky but firm voice you whisper, “Darling, that’s enough.”

Lestat, although one not known for his sense of control, listens. He pulls from you, biting his own lips and licking them hastily. He doesn’t want to waste a drop of your essence. You tilt your head back and try to compose yourself. You recover quickly from things, so it only takes you a few seconds to feel back to normal again.

Your hands wrap around Lestat’s neck, and you push him against the wall of the tub. You turn around so you’re in his original position, and he groans as your sharp nails dig into his neck.

“My turn,” you say.

Your lips graze his neck and chest. The neck would be where you get the most blood, but you want to drag this out— it’s what you’ve always done in intimate times like these. Break Lestat down, sink your teeth deep. Make him hazy and desperate with lust. He looks best when he’s in pieces.

You bring a finger up to one of his nipples. You rub him there, and he lets out a tiny whine. Your fangs scrape against it, and right below this spot you decide to sink your fangs in him. Suckling, his taste is absolutely divine. He whimpers, and you watch as his gorgeous head of hair tilts back in a sort of pained/pleasured stance.

Oh, Lestat.

It’s the most pleasure you’ve ever felt— Lestat.

There, your little fledgling, naked with his cock hard and feeding you the most important part of him.

Your fangs leave him and make another spot right next to that one, on the very other side. You drink, drink, drink. Blood runs down your chin, neck, breasts, and into the water below. You leave him, find another spot— his neck. Perfect, warm crimson. All yours.

Lestat doesn’t tell you to let up. He’s gotten like this, ever since the two of you had first made love. He would let you drain him of everything he had if it forsake your satisfaction. His vision almost goes out for a moment, before you pull away. You always know when it’s too much for him.

You chuckle, pleasured and full.

But not full enough, you decide.

You brush against his cock, hidden under the water. He’s thick, long. You know if you were to taste him right now it would be just as good as his blood. But that can wait for another day— you wrap your hand around him and stroke.

His lashes flutter, mouth falling open. He’s dizzy, horny, hot… how ironic. A vampire, all hot and bothered.

“Oh, thank you, goddess..” he praises. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much..”

You smile. Your hand speeds up, and for the first time that night you bring yourself up and kiss him. Your teeth clack together at first, but you soon adjust and sloppily press your lips against your lover’s. Your cunt clenches, empty. You need to feel his cock inside you soon, or you think you’ll go crazy. Your free hand scrapes against the nape of his neck and he whines out for you to fuck him.

“And I will, darling,” you reply to him. Your hand leaves his aching cock and wraps around his neck. You rest your face in his neck as you grab his cock with your other hand and position it below your entrance. You slick yourself up by rubbing his throbbing tip against your clit. It feels so nice, and you press him into your hole with one swift stroke. Lestat moans loudly, his hands going down to your hips to push you further down onto his thick cockhead. You adjust in due time, though it takes a moment. You’ll never get used to his size.

“My good little fledgling,” you purr, almost like a cat. “Does your cock get this hard for all those little blood whores you bring home?”

The words are teasing, but have a hint of malice to them. You don’t like sharing your things, and your jealousy hasn’t gone unnoticed by Lestat since you’ve returned. Though you know no woman could compare to you, the stupidity of men has never been an impossibility. But, regardless, Lestat seems equally as revolted by the idea.

“Never,” he grunts out. His fingers spread your asscheeks as to bottom out harder in you. “You’re the only woman I want, the only one I’ll ever need…”

You mewl, beginning to bounce on him. He feels so thick, fills you up so perfectly. His hips are moving up, fucking into you from underneath. You can feel your clit brushing up against his pelvis, can feel his pubic hair brushing up against you. It’s pure bliss. You pull on his hair with one hand and kiss him again.

“I bet you thought about me when you fucked those whores,” you mutter out. “I bet you thought about my wet cunt, filling me up with your cum. Thought about my mouth, my hands…”

“I never—“

He gasps when you clench down on him.

“Oh, I never fucked them!” he whimpers out. “I couldn’t! I was waiting for you to come back, goddess. I couldn’t— I couldn’t. I’ve always been yours.”

You’re pleased by his answer, and he throbs inside of you. By the look on his face you can tell that he’s close.

“Mine.” You growl out. Your grip on him tightens as your possessiveness glazes your features. “That’s right. All fucking mine.”

And as his hips stutter and he chokes up on his words, you make sure to leave a long, deep scratch on his collar bone. A marking, a symbol of your ownership.

“Cum inside me.” You demand to him. “Fill up my pussy. Show me you’re mine.”

He whines, loud. His cock spills thick ropes into your cunt and fills you to the brim. He reaches down, rubs your clit with his fingers. Your orgasm washes over you in gigantic waves. Lestat always makes sure to give you a release, and that you’re thankful for.

A few moments pass, as you both breathe heavily. His cock is softened inside you, but you both make no move to remove yourselves for each other. Lestat seems exhausted, tired. His eyes drift close against your chest as you sit there on top of him.

Yours.

#queen of the damned #Lestat de lioncourt #Lestat de Lioncourt x reader #Lestat de Lioncourt smut #Lestat queen of the damned #queen of the damned fanfic #vampires #I ❤️ vampires

401 notes · View notes